#i have a range of how much i have written about some npc's....press is on the less side...i should change that

[tunnelsnacks]

Okay! Sorry this took me a sec @clownbasedintrigue I got distracted with work and looking for a specific audio file (I didn’t find it) Here’s a short collection on my Preston HC’s. A lot of these are my character notes for him that I use for my series the Noble Lie (which is under reconstruction rn) so when I say Norah I’m referring to my sosu. I originally blocked this out in paragraphs but moved it to bullets so it was less annoying to read! xx

Fair warning, they’re only interesting to me

His full name is Preston Joshua Garvey, friends call him Pres

26 years old, born in the spring. Norah decided to celebrate his birthday on March 20th because he wasn’t sure on the date - the first day of spring and the signaling of lighter days ahead

Hes the Co-General of the Minutemen

Has a dry sense of humor, most of the things he says elicits laughs from others because of the timing of his delivery

Preston can play the fiddle, usually he whistles when he plays but if a little bit of liquor get in him? That pretty boy can sing

 He’s a dog person and hates molerats, the scar on his face came from one

Preston’s parents are named Lorane and Easton and he’s an only child. Lorane is a weaver and makes textiles his uncle Martin, Easton sells them at the store they run in a state over. Preston hasn’t seen them since he was about 20 but they send letters back and forth. They love their son very much

Gwinnett is his preferred beer, his favorite alcohol is moonshine, and he’s not a coffee person (I think wasteland coffee is made out of dried broc flower root) he’s okay with the pre-war version

Ben Gibson, who’s a cut character in game, joined the Minutemen with Preston, they dated for a little bit

His depression will never fully go away, some days are hard

 You know how some people can make trumpet sounds with their mouth? Preston’s one of those people. He considers it his special talent

 The green scarf he wears was made by his mama, it’s the most important thing he owns

 Cooking is something he’s extremely good at, he says everything he leaned is from his mama and has a ‘cook book’ full of recipes that he’s collected over the years

 Preston is the textbook definition of a morning person, on average he wakes up at 5am

 When Danse leaves the brotherhood of bigots they become friends, its rocky at first but they’re friends

He hasn’t spent much time around Piper but they have a big brother little sister type energy

 There isn’t one of Norah’s companions that he outright hates. Gage isn’t one of his favorites of course and he was weary of RJ at first, there’s a weird friction Deacon built between them but there’s no hatred

 Preston is in love with Norah but knows that isn’t reciprocated so he never lets her know though it’s super obvious (Preston’s not good at hiding things from people he cares about) I think that as long as the sosu is a kind person, he’s in love with them

He’s considered a tourist for the Railroad if a label was needed though Preston knows as much abut the organization as Pippin does about the Fellowship of the Ring. He knows the call and response phrase and who to send someone who asks him if he has a geiger counter too, but that’s about it. However the railsign for ally is scratched into his radio receiver that’s worn over his chest

[redschillzone]

Saturday Gaming (Modern!Iden Versio x Fem!Reader)

(Gif Found Here!)

Pairing: Modern!Iden Versio x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k Words

Warnings: Curse Words

Summary: A rainy Saturday evening is a great time for cuddling, but for Iden it’s also a great time for gaming.

Iden Versio Tag List: @allfiguredout​ @dversstark​

A/N: This was written for my best friend who I know is feeling a little down today. I hope you enjoy it bud!

You could hear the rain pinging angrily against the glass behind you as you sat yourself on the couch, giving a low hum as you tightened your hold on the fuzzy blanket around you. It was a very rainy Saturday afternoon and with the downpour outside, you had nowhere else to be and you were lucky enough to have your girlfriend beside you on the touch, only her attention wasn’t on you.

“Stupid fucking dragon...” Iden hissed to the TV as she sat herself up from the laid back position she was in, leaning forward as she pressed the various buttons on the controller she was holding as her eyes remained glued to the TV; Her determination all set on killing the dragon that had been following her for the past five minutes. You couldn’t help but laugh lightly as you watched the TV screen as well, secretly rooting for her. 

Iden was playing Skyrim, one of your favorite games, for the first time and you couldn’t help but laugh at each of her encounters so far; She hated the frost troll that stood on the Seven Thousand Steps on the way to High Hrothgar, she doesn’t dislike the dragons but she hates how often they spawn and chase her ass around the map, and she dreads the mudcrabs when she just wishes to teleport somewhere. She was loving the game, to say the least. She hadn’t put the controller down since you gave it to her; And that was about two hours ago. As much as you loved watching your girlfriend play the game though, you had your needs as well and as you shifted your gaze towards her once more, you couldn’t help but let out a breath as you began to take in her outfit choice for the day.

She was wearing a light green shirt that hugging her form perfectly and as she leaned back to her spot in the couch after the dragon had been killed, it began to hitch up her stomach to expose the skin below and you wanted to plant several kisses there but you just shook your head lightly as you continued to look her over. She was also wearing a pair of dark blue jeans that hugged her ass and thighs perfectly and you really wanted nothing more than to lay your head against her thighs and watch the TV as she played but your mind was running with so many thoughts that you couldn’t help but bite your lip as your eyes finally landed on her footwear; A pair of brown boots that she had gotten with you one day at the mall. One foot was currently kicked up on the corner of your end table while the other was hanging off the couch. 

She even had her hair down and you really wanted to run your fingers through her hair while she played but she was concentrated and you didn’t want to that away from her so you just shook your head and tightened your hold on the blanket around you, jumping slightly as a loud crack of thunder rang out and shook the windows around you. Iden just gave a low hum as she shifted her gaze to the window then to you and chuckled lightly as she noticed your balled up form.

“Babe, you’re looking like a burrito right now… Also it’s just some thunder, you’ll be fine.” She informed you which caused a small chuckle to escape your lips as you shrugged lightly.

“I know.. But am I a good looking burrito~?” You teased her, watching as she grinned and leaned over from her position to gently press her lips to yours. You gave a low hum as you kissed her back, moving one arm out of the warm cocoon you had made for yourself to rest it on her cheek as you gently rubbed your thumb across it. The kiss was slow and sweet and you were savoring it as much as you could; She gave a low hum before she pulled away to look at you with a warm smile but you could see the mischief in her eyes.

“Yeah, you’re looking so damn good, baby… Could just eat you up here and now.” She teased you which caused a blush to form on your cheeks before she chuckled lightly and leaned back on the couch once more. Any other day you would have gladly challenged her on that little comment but today you weren’t in such a sexy mood and wanted nothing more than cuddles; Hesitating you allowed yourself to speak up before she continued her game. 

“Hey Iden…?” You spoke to which she looked at you once more, eyebrow raised at you.

“Yes (Y/N)?” She questioned to which you bit your lip, shifting a bit before you spoke up.

“Um.. Can I.. Maybe cuddle you while you play..?” You asked her to which she blinked and chuckled lightly, going ahead and placing the controller aside before she leaned forward and began to untie her boots and kicked them off so they rested beside the coffee table.

“Babe, you never have to ask. Come here.” She spoke as she went ahead and turned to face you, placing her legs on either side of you before holding her arms out to you. You gave her a wide grin as you dove forward, going ahead and laying yourself between her legs as you rested your head on her chest, wrapping your arms tightly around her midsection. She chuckled as you got yourself comfortable before she went ahead and grabbed the controller once more, resting it on your back as she started the game back up once more. 

You nuzzled your head against her chest, adjusting the blanket around you both as you went ahead and watched her play, humming lowly as you mumbled out a few helpful tips here and there and even rewarded her with a kiss or two as she cleared out the dungeons. She couldn’t help the grin that crossed her face as she continued to play, making sure to visit more and more dungeons just so she could get more and more kisses from you. The system you two had was working well and you were finally relaxing as you enjoyed the warmth she was giving off.

“Hey Iden?” You spoke up after a while of watching her to which she hummed, tearing her gaze away from the TV to look at you once more as she paused the game.

“What’s up, baby?” She questioned as you moved your head to look at her, resting your chin on her chest as you stared into her eyes; You could see the love she held for you swirling in her eyes and you could feel your heart tighten at the thought of all that love being just for you.

“I’m yours, right?” You questioned her in return to which she chuckled and nodded, leaning forward to press her lips against your forehead, your cheeks, and your nose.

“Damn right you’re mine.” She commented as she went ahead and placed another sweet kiss to your lips, one which you returned eagerly as you allowed your eyes to shut; You two didn’t go any further, enjoying the fluffy aura you had made. You were the first to pull away, letting out a content sigh as you nuzzled your head into her chest once more, moving your arms to wrap around her midsection again as you nodded.

“Good..” You yawned out, watching as she started the game up once more with a smile on her face. You slowly allowed your eyes to close, humming lowly as you listened to the rain outside along with the calming music that was coming from the game and you could slowly feel yourself drifting off to sleep. Iden must have noticed before whenever she was in a loading screen or was talking with an NPC, she allowed one hand to remove itself from the controller to either rub at your back or to run it through your hair. You gave another content sigh before you fell asleep against Iden who gave another smile to you and pressed her lips to the top of your head before she pulled away, mumbling.

“I love you, (Y/N)...” She spoke as you slept on top of her, going ahead and continuing the game; She didn’t mind you sleeping on top of her because it gave her all the more reason to stay with you and enjoy her Saturday evening with quite possibly the best girlfriend in the world.

[friendshipcampaign]

Sanctuary

Sometimes you’re a DM and you think, “Hm! I’m having a lot of emotions about a conversation between two NPCs that none of my player characters would be around for! Perhaps I shall write a short drabble!” and then then next thing you know you’re well over 4k words deep into your OCs Talking About Their Feelings. Well: here are those words.

NPC downtime between Demonology Prevention League agents Creed and Thodri, set during the street festival in Veritas the day after the Friendship Campaign party banished the demons from the city.

The streets of Veritas were filled with the sounds of reveling. Bonfires crackled and the foods roasting on them sizzled and dripped. Stallkeepers hawked and haggled and called out to each other. Music drifted through the square, accompanied by the stomping and shouting of the dancers. Every few moments, someone decided to raise a tankard in a cheer, which would echo through the crowd before getting lost in the tumult. Everything was loud and bright and everyone was celebrating.

Thodri didn’t trust it for a minute.

She scanned the crowds around her as she and Creed made their way to the watch-house the DPL had commandeered as a temporary headquarters, looking for—she didn’t know. A familiar face that shouldn’t be there? A demon that had somehow escaped the Banishment? Some magical trap left untriggered in the previous day’s battle—or a freshly placed one?

Creed, strolling along beside her, didn’t seem to have any such worries.

“You wouldn’t believe the kind of decorations they have upstairs! Y’know, a lot of houses like that, they  put the most impressive stuff out where they can show it off to everyone who comes in, but that place just gets more opulent the farther you go!”

Thodri grunted, pretending that she’d been listening to her companion’s non-stop chatter about the Zisisvoynis’ decór. She supposed it was easier to appreciate its opulence when your first visit there wasn’t for a party where your tentative allies had decided to attempt to trap a bunch of murderous cultists. With a dragon. It was probably also easier if you were Creed, who had much more of a taste for extravagance than she ever would.

“It’s nothing like the main hoard, of course, and the location of that is one of those if-I-tell-you-then-I’d-have-to-kill-you secrets—”

Thodri flinched. Focus. She needed to focus. The square was too large to keep all of it in her sights and they were drawing near the middle now, the crowd pressing close on all sides. She didn’t like the feeling of so many strangers at her back.

“—But I did get a few stories about some of the artifacts. Not just gold—apparently Oktojnotviš has an ongoing feud with some other dragons over these historical Draconic texts that they each have one section of. They’re all trying to get the complete collection, but since they’re written on twenty-foot-high slabs of stone that were cut from an ancient cave wall there’s been a wee bit of trouble with that.”

The bonfire burning behind the skeletal remnants of the elephant-demon cast flickering shadows over the bones that looked just enough like movement when caught from the corner of her eye that Thodri kept snapping her head around to look. No. The bones were still. Dead. Parts of them were still tethered to the ground by long pieces of jagged wire.

“Hey.”

Creed lowered his arms, which he’d been waving as he spoke in his customary sweeping gestures. Thodri always joked that he could never visit her home caverns under the mountains because with the way he walked he’d end up bruising his hands—and his head—black and blue in the dwarf-sized tunnels.

“You doing all right, Footnotes?”

“I’m fine,” Thodri retorted, continuing to wind her way through the square so that despite his long legs, Creed had to half-skip a few steps to catch up to her.

“Well, something must be wrong because I was just telling you about some extremely old and interesting writings and you didn’t even bat an eye.”

“There’s a lot to do.” More shouts rang out from behind them, and Thodri whirled just in time to see a burly woman with a barrel of ale on her shoulder raise up her hand in a cheer. All right. No threat. She turned back to Creed.

“. . . And now you’re sounding like Aurelia.”

“I am not—” Thodri snapped, before catching herself and letting out a long, tense sigh. “I’m . . . worried. That’s all.”

“About?”

Thodri threw up her hands. “I don’t know! Everything? Somebody has to be since you’re acting like you don’t have a care in the world!”

She glared out into the crowd again. She couldn’t lose focus. Couldn’t miss anything. She could hear Creed’s footsteps beside her as the two of them walked in silence for a moment, making it out to where the crowd was thinner. She felt nervous about leaving the square unwatched, but they had to get on to where Aurelia was waiting and see what information they could get out of yesterday’s captives. If there was some other plot yet to be sprung . . .

“Are you . . . mad at me?” Creed asked. She could tell he had his head cocked in confusion but she didn’t look up to meet his eyes.

“No! Maybe! I don’t know!”

“Well, that’s quite the spectrum, certainly. I appreciate you didn’t go straight to ‘yes,’ but—”

“I thought you were dead!” she blurted out.

Creed stopped in his tracks and blinked at her. He looked almost as surprised at her outburst as she was. She stared back at him, wide-eyed, with her hand clapped over her mouth.

“What . . . last night? I didn’t—”

“No!” The blood was rushing in Thodri’s ears and she she could feel the terror she’d been trying to push down all day building within her. She’d lowered her hand to let out the interjection and now without that barrier in place more words were trying to flood out in a torrent she couldn’t control. “You were missing and I thought you were dead and it was my fault and I couldn’t even remember what had happened, and Aurelia kept trying to be so nice to me that I thought I would scream, and the rest of them just stopped talking about you after Ráalu used the past tense once and I had to run out of the room during an interrogation and—”

“Hey.” She felt Creed’s hands settle gently on her shoulders. “Hey, it’s all right. You got me back, didn’t you?”

“I-I know,” Thodri stammered. “We got you back and I thought maybe I could be less afraid, but I got complacent and let my guard down and that thing that was pretending to be Kasia got me and then I wasn’t—”

She shivered for a moment as she remembered the sensation of mindlessness, of her eyes and ears being as sharp as ever but not being able to make sense of anything she saw and heard, of being stripped of her words and her thoughts and her understanding in a way that made her blanch with fear to recall, but that at the time she hadn’t even been able to comprehend enough to be horrified. That might have been the worst part. That she hadn’t known—hadn’t been able to know—what had happened to her. That once the others had left her curled up with Creed in their pocket dimension she’d felt . . . safe. She’d felt happy.

Creed’s fingernails dug into the back of her shoulders. A few streets over, the musicians finished a song and a distant cheer went up. Thodri’s voice was getting higher and louder and people were probably staring but she couldn’t make herself stop.

“—I wasn’t there and I couldn’t help you and Palava had to call on so much power from his god to get me back and I couldn’t even get any omens—”

She was aware that Creed was speaking, but it felt almost the way speech had when her mind was shattered. The sounds were there but there was no sense to them. She let him push her, gently, back out of the way of the crowd until there was stone at her back and the sounds of the celebration were muffled.

“—and then the creature showed up and I thought—I thought, this is it, this is the thing that’s going to kill us, and it almost felt better because at least I wasn’t wondering anymore, but then Kriv defeated it and we didn’t die and it—it’s over, it’s gone, all the demons are gone and everyone’s celebrating but I don’t . . . I don’t know how to stop being afraid!”

She looked at Creed, helplessly, through burning eyes. He loomed over her, his head cocked to one side and the crystal growths on his left horn glinting in the light.

“It feels like every time I relax something worse happens. And then last night I was trying so hard to feel like we were all safe; I was trying to relax and enjoy myself and be happy, and then you took one look at the most dangerous thing in the room and decided to throw yourself at it and it . . .” she trailed off, the river of words drying up as she wondered how she could convey the sudden, absurd spike of fear that had gripped her, that still thrummed under her skin even though Creed was fine, she was fine, everything was . . .

“It . . . made me afraid again,” she finished lamely.

As the silence stretched out between them, Thodri let her head drop and took in a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m . . . sorry. I know it’s ridiculous and I know you were probably going to be fine and I need to learn how to pull myself together, and I certainly didn’t mean to go quite so . . . babbly. About everything.”

“Hey.” Creed crouched down so their faces were almost level, still holding her by the shoulders. She’d been expecting him to look  . . . frustrated, at least, the sort of expression he wore when Aurelia was being particularly obtuse, and she was ready to flinch away from it, but she could see nothing but concern in his lavender eyes.

Then one corner of his mouth turned up in a smile which Thodri found herself instinctively but tentatively mirroring, and he said, “All right, more than a few points of contention with all that. First things first, I don’t think it’s fair to say I ‘threw myself’ at him, and I’ll have you know I took several looks before I made any decisions.”

Thodri let out a bark of surprised laughter, which she suspected from the way he beamed at her had been Creed’s plan in the first place. He straightened up and pointed towards one of the little green parks behind them.

“Shall we sit down?”

Thodri bit her lip. “I don’t want to keep Aurelia waiting too long . . .”

“Well that does it!” Creed clapped her on the back. “I definitely want to keep Aurelia waiting. She needs the rest. Come on!”

Thodri let Creed lead her around the groups of pedestrians heading to and from the festival and out onto the grass. He found a stone bench—an old one, Thodri noted, but of decent workmanship—and sprawled across one end of it, gesturing for Thodri to join him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realize you were having . . . such a hard time.”

Thodri laughed again, a brittle edge to it.

“I don’t think I did either, honestly. I didn’t realize a lot of it until . . . now, really. I thought I was just being stupid and I could joke about it and I’d calm down. I—I even thought it was working; I had a nice time with Kriv and his goat, but then I tried to go to sleep and I couldn’t stop . . . thinking about all of it. Of being afraid that it was only a matter of time until something worse happened. That—that if I let myself get complacent it would all fall apart.”

“Listen.” Creed stretched an arm along the back of the bench in a clear invitation, but he didn’t touch her. With a sigh, Thodri leaned into him and pulled his arm down around her shoulders. “Of course you’re afraid. It makes sense to be afraid. This city was overrun with demons until just a little before this time yesterday. That’s a lot for anyone to handle, and for weeks of it you didn’t even have me around to help you with my worldly experience and sparkling wit!”

“I . . . I know,” said Thodri. “Again, I’m sorry—”

“Thodri.” Creed loosened the grip of his arm just enough that he could look directly into Thodri’s face. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, love.”

“But I could—”

“We walked into a trap, Thodri. Both of us. I think it was . . .” Creed’s fingers wandered to his symbol of Tymora and began to spin it absently back and forth. “. . . Lucky that I was the one they caught.”

In response to Thodri’s disbelieving snort he continued, “One of us was useful to them. Fuel for the mine. They had reasons to want to keep me alive. Horrifying reasons, I’ll grant you! But reasons nonetheless. If you’d been the one who was trapped . . .”

They sat in silence for a brief moment, and then Creed let go of his holy symbol and smacked the heel of his hand into his forehead.

“Real encouraging talk, this is! Here I was going to try to calm you down and instead I start blabbing about even more things that could have killed you!”

“No, it . . . it’s okay.” Thodri nestled further into his shoulder. “It does make me feel better, actually, in a strange way. I thought Tymora had abandoned you, but maybe she was looking out for both of us after all.”

“Aye.” Creed wrapped his arm tighter around her. “Or maybe she did whiff it and it worked out regardless; that happens too.”

Thodri chuckled. “I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to your irreverance.”

“Oh, she loves it! Your sort of devotion would be terribly boring to a luck goddess. Can’t show off her powers unless her followers are the sort of people to take big risks.”

Thodri looked up, tracing the dappled outlines of the leaves on the branches above them. She’d been away from the mountains for years, but the trees and the open sky still felt strange to her. They were never as comforting as the darkness of her home had been. She closed her eyes.

“Is that what last night was about, then? Big and completely unnecessary risks?”

She felt Creed shrug. “I suppose. Although I will say that most of the appeal there was being free to take a big risk that wasn’t likely to get me killed if I got it wrong.”

Thodri could feel her heart beginning to pound again, the drumbeat of not-safe-not-safe-not-safe that had haunted her since the night she and Creed had walked into a trap and she alone had come out of it. She let it beat, forcing herself not to hitch her breath to it. It was dark and safe behind her eyelids, and Creed’s arm was warm around her.

“I think . . . after everything being so dangerous for so long, it’s hard to feel like anything might not be a matter of deadly peril.” She contemplated for a moment. “Also you didn’t see him at the last party, where he was . . . very distinctly terrifying.”

Creed’s chin bumped against the top of her head as he nodded. “No, that’s fair, that’s fair. If it makes you feel any better, the first thing he did once we got to his chambers was sit me down to talk about boundaries and expectations for like half an hour, so . . .”

Thodri snorted. “That does make me feel better, yes! He’s . . . certainly full of surprises.”

“The first half of it was about how I shouldn’t expect anything long-term to come of it since his heart and soul are still undyingly bound to his wife, whose virtues he extolled at some length.”

Thodri drew her feet up on the bench and leaned back, watching the sunlight tint her vision red.

“See, that part doesn’t surprise me at all.”

“His body, on the other hand—”

Creed squawked as Thodri smacked a hand at his free arm.

“Nope,” she said firmly. “If you want to share any more details, you can go talk to Amaranth.”

“Fair enough.” Creed leaned his head over to rest it on top of Thodri’s, carefully maneuvering his horn so it wouldn’t catch in her hair. Tymora’s symbol bumped against her shoulder. A breeze sprang up, rustling the leaves of the tree above them.

“. . . So,” said Creed after a moment. “Aurelia was nice to you?”

Thodri groaned. “I hated it! She’s supposed to be all gruff and angry and disapproving but she kept trying to be . . . gentle with me.”

Aurelia had been the first member of the DPL to arrive after Thodri dragged herself up out of the tunnels, showing up out of breath and already starting to yell. “Where’s the idiot?” she had snapped when she first saw Thodri. And Thodri had been expecting something like that, so she only trembled a little as she explained about the tip and the tunnel and the trap and how Creed had pushed her back to safety when the walls came tumbling in. And she’d been expecting Aurelia to demand to see the collapse, so she led the way back down with her conjured light hardly flickering and waited while the woman shouted and kicked at the falling rocks. But then she’d expected Aurelia to shout at her too, to demand what they’d been thinking and why they’d been so stupid and why Thodri hadn’t made Creed follow the protocol and tell the rest of them where they were going, why Thodri hadn’t found some way to stop it—and so when, instead, Aurelia had turned away from the collapsed tunnel with a curse and seen Thodri standing there and simply muttered, “Damn it. I’m sorry, kid,” when Aurelia had moved in to try, inexpertly, to hug her . . . Thodri had completely fallen apart.

“Sounds awful,” said Creed.

“Yeah. The yelling is better.”

And the yelling had come, just not at her. Thodri found that Aurelia’s view of her had shifted from an errant recruit that she needed to keep away from bad influences (meaning Creed), to some kind of broken child too fragile to discipline and too foolish to listen to. With everyone else Aurelia had gotten harsher, but she would shoo Thodri out of the room before tearing into her coworkers and make her stand back when they went to investigate demonic incidents.

“If she’s not going to listen to me,” Thodri continued, “I’d rather she be angry than just . . . patronizing.”

“Well,” said Creed, “Stick with me and I doubt that’ll be your problem for long! She’s had no trouble being angry with yours truly, even after I mysteriously returned from the presumed-dead.”

“She cried about you,” said Thodri, remembering what else she’d seen when she’d brought Aurelia into the tunnel. “Just a little, but . . .”

She opened her eyes just in time to catch the delighted, devilish grin spreading across Creed’s face. “Oh, Footnotes,” he said. “Your knowledge, as always, is a treasure.”

“Don’t be too hard on her for it,” Thodri said. “Or at least wait until she really deserves it.”

“Noted.” Creed looked up at the sky. “However the rest of them treated you, it looks to me like you handled yourself pretty well while I was gone.”

“Oh, I . . . don’t know about that.” Thodri laughed nervously and let out a hissing breath between her teeth. “I went behind everyone’s backs and contacted a group of people I hardly knew who were wanted for fraternizing with demons and blowing up a building because I had a hunch, and then I met up with them alone at night without telling anyone where I’d gone. I shared classified DPL data; I used my badge for extremely unauthorized investigation; I ignored my actual assignments to go running on a wild goose chase after you . . .”

Creed wrapped his tail tight around her waist. “And you found me. And your gambles paid off, so either you’re smarter than you give yourself credit for or Tymora was keeping an eye out for you until I could get back and do it myself. Or maybe both! Anyway, I’m hardly going to scold you for going behind Aurelia’s back. I’m impressed that you managed to take so many of my lessons to heart!”

“You are the worst influence,” said Thodri, and then laughed and pushed him away when he brought up the tufted end of his tail to tickle her nose.

“And proud of it!” He turned towards her and his smile softened into something less playful. “And I’m proud of you.”

Thodri didn’t know what to say. She wished she was as quick with her jokes as he was and could come up with something to deflect the uncharacteristic earnestness in his face.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with so much of this on your own,” Creed continued. “When you joined I promised I’d look after you, and I haven’t exactly done the best job of it.”

“Creed.” Thodri took one of his hands in hers. “Sometimes you really are an idiot. You were captured by devil worshipers who put you to work in a hell mine. As far as excuses for not being around to look after me go, I think that’s a pretty solid one.”

Creed quirked his head to the side in a half-shrug. “Aye. But then you and your friends broke us out, and on my very first day back I . . . nearly lost you. Doesn’t make me feel particularly confident in my abilities.”

His grip on her hand was almost uncomfortably tight, and it reminded Thodri of the way he’d held her when she was under the Feeblemind, that same stubborn refusal to let go.

“And then Palava got me back,” she said.

Creed sighed. “He did. Y’know, I think I need to have a bit of a chat with Tymora about gaining mastery of that particular ritual. It’s not a great look having her shown up by some elf god.”

“It’s not a competition, Creed.”

“Eh, to some of ‘em it is. And he won’t always be around, but I . . . well. I’ll do my best to be.”

Thodri let go of Creed’s hand and wrapped her arms around him, drawing him into a tight hug.

“I’ll do my best too. I . . . know you’ll watch my back.”

He nodded and squeezed her. “And you’ll watch mine.”

After a moment he added, “And, much as I like to think we can handle things on our own, it’s nice to know some other people was can call in if things get rough who are better at dealing with all of this than, y’know, Aurelia.”

Thodri nodded vigorously. “It’s very good. Yes. Although, speaking of Aurelia . . .”

“Nooooo,” wailed Creed quietly, and Thodri laughed.

“We really ought to get back to her, and to our jobs. Come on! You’ve exerted your bad influence and made us both terribly late, so now it’s my turn to be the good influence and ensure we turn up for work at all.”

Creed flopped back dramatically over the bench, an arm draped over his forehead. “How could you?” he cried, although he didn’t protest further as Thodri pulled him to his feet and began to set off towards the new address. Behind them, the musicians in the square began another song.

“Hey Creed?”

“What is it, Footnotes?”

Thodri opened and shut her mouth once or twice, trying to pin down what it was she wanted to ask.

“Do you really think things are safe now?”

Creed took a step towards her and caught her up in a sideways hug, squeezing her tight before the difference in their strides meant he had to either let go or be pulled to the ground.

“Listen,” he said. “You signed up for a job that’s mostly boring interviews and paperwork with occasional terrifying interludes of charging ill-prepared into deadly situations. Safe isn’t exactly in the job description.”

“Comforting.”

“But, as I was going to say if you’d let me finish, despite all that . . . yes. I think the demons are really gone. I think we’ve got a lot of cleaning up to do, and I think we’ll have to keep our eyes open for some of those non-demonic entities who are probably not very happy with us right now. But compared to yesterday, Thodri? Compared to every other day we’ve spent in this city? I think it’s fair to say that it’s much, much safer. And I think it’s okay to be happy about that, at least until the next deadly situation comes up.”

“And embrace the boring paperwork instead?”

“Thodri, no . . .”

“You know how much I love boring paperwork!”

Creed shook his head. “I absolutely do not and never will understand you.”

“Well, Dumathoin will be very happy about that. He’s an enigma and as his cleric I have a duty to share in this aspect.”

“An enigma who likes paperwork!”

Thodri laughed as they rounded the next corner and Seeker’s Square, with its dancing and bonfires and celebrations, faded from view behind them. She spared herself one last glance backwards and, for the first time that day, allowed herself to truly enjoy the sight.

Then she turned and hurried after Creed. The city had been saved, and they had work to do.

[thedovahcat]

And Then There Was...Wildstar

Since today is the anniversary of the shut down announcement, or at least I think it is, and cuz I’m a copycat and I’ve seen a few people’s introspective posts flying around my dash today, it’s time to add my experience to the pile.

Where do I even begin with Wildstar? It came around during an EXTREMELY volatile time in my life, aka the end of the teens and my early twenties. The real ‘formative years’ if you asked my opinion on it.

I had been an avid WoW fan since I could first play at the age of 13, which had to have been about 2007-2008 abouts. When 2013 or so rolled around, I had been told by friends that a new MMO was coming out, and that it was all space-western-y, my two greatest loves.

Naturally I waited, along with everyone else for a beta, and got in and instantly fell in love with what we’d come to know as Nexus. I was star-struck. The art, the music, the style, the humor, everything hit home with me like no other game had at that point, and I was ready to throw WoW to the wind to go full time and soak up as much of those space rays as I could. And it was even better because it was going to be with friends! I had already established I wanted to bring Rev over and start anew in the Dominion. I had so many new plotlines and ideas whirling around in my head faster than a tornado over a bee farm.

Unfortunately, during this time as well, I saw Wildstar as an escape.

I was being bullied away from WoW at the time by someone who wanted what I had. You think, “Who would do that?? What did they try to do, Dovah?” Many things really. At first they were small aggressions disguised as an interest in trying to befriend me, then that curtain dropped and the aggressions got bigger and bigger.

It was like watching something rot out from the inside. Was I absolutely jealous they were trying to steal a close-now-best friend from me?? Absolutely. I knew it was intentional. I could see it written on the walls. And while I was accustomed to this kind of shit occurring in real life and on the internet to some degree, it only really hurt because for a while, nobody believed me.

Rumors had been planted, people had been told lies and god knows what else, that I was the bad guy of this story. Accused of doing everything that was being done towards me at the same time. It was just another episode of ‘Who Started The Drama’ on Wyrmrest Accord, business as usual amiright?

And I won’t lie, I did try to retaliate several times to stop everything. I got desperate. Said things I meant, said things I didn’t mean, to the point where I couldn’t tell which was which anymore. Everything was wrapped in a huge burrito of panic and fear. And will I be ashamed of that, possibly for the rest of my life? Absolutely positively one hundred percent yes.

After a while, I didn’t fight back anymore. I didn’t make public call-outs, naming names. Sure, did I tell people about it if they asked? Of course, but in private only (because it turned out they too had suffered a similar situation like I was at the time.) Or, sometimes I told people unprompted in private because we happened to talk about our experiences being caught in drama, and I never hesitated to give my side of the story. The side that was RARELY ever heard, to my knowledge. I wanted as many people as possible to know what this person was like and what they were doing to me. For my own sanity, and for the sake of getting the truth out there in some form or another. It was relatively contained as far as I knew, so I rolled over onto my back, ready to accept my lot in life once again as someone’s punching bag because they were jealous of me and what I had and just would NOT go away no matter what happened. Naturally, I thought it really was all my fault that this was happening. We all jump to that conclusion at least once or ten times.

And then came Wildstar, and it had started to look very tempting.

I could start over. I could get away from it all. I could play with my friends ‘in secret’ and not have to worry about being slandered or god knew whatever ELSE had been done at that point on WoW, or wherever else.

Foolish was I to think that my troubles had ended there.

Many people from WoW came to play Wildstar, which was both a blessing and a curse. Moreso the latter in my case.

The person in question found out, began to main the same faction, and just put their hands on everything all over again. I felt as though I had hit a reset button, everything just started over once again. They told people about me, they got me blacklisted and blocked from one of the biggest RP guilds ever to hit the server at the time, and who knows where it branched out from there.

I went silent again. Kind of like a dog with its tail between its legs. The Dominion was no place for me, so, what was I to do?? I didn’t want to abandon this game and world I’d come to love so much in such a short amount of time.

I had never taken an interest in the Exiles. For some reason they hadn’t appealed to me at first. They were the overrated good guys. The underdogs that would always win. I wanted to play the ‘bad guys’ and do my whole spiel about making them more than JUST the bad guys.

But suddenly? As dramatic as it sounds, the Exiles, suddenly sounded very appropriate, in terms of matching up to how I felt.

Exiled. For stupid shit ‘crimes’ I never ‘committed.’

So, I rolled up my sleeves and rerolled Rev’s character, deciding to branch him out in a different direction entirely. I ended up with Roger, and was dumped out into the Gambler’s Ruin, the complete shamble-of-an-arkship. And after that? The frosty bitter cold of the Northern Wastes.

My friend had offered to make another character with me, so that we could play together without being bothered. I had a glimmer of hope. Everything wasn’t over and I wasn’t dead yet (but man did I feel it) and so I pressed onwards.

I saw Algoroc for the first time and all its rolling plains and roans and the mountains and the whole wide open range. It felt so much different than the stormy Levian Bay, or the dark and gloomy Ellevar. The music was lighter, more upbeat, more ‘western’, which is silly because I had stated earlier that that was what I was looking forward to the most. The WESTERN COWBOY YEEHAW aspect of it.

Things were brighter, no less colorful, happier, hopeful. There was SO much land to explore and so many things to do. I was ready. Ready to start all over one more time. So I did.

I made my way through the area, learning about the Exiles and their culture, and the Eldan and whatever sinister happenings they had going in beneath the surface.

Before I knew it, I had reached Thayd, and was absolutely blown away by the size of the city. I was used to large environments from WoW, no doubt. But Thayd felt so interactive for some reason or another. Maybe it was the art style or the NPCs inhabiting it (and the players of course). But it felt alive. There were so many nooks and crannys to get lost in, how will I ever see this whole entire city?? I wondered.

It was a broken mish-mash of all that the Exiles slapped haphazardly together. Different people that didn’t fit together, trying to make something out of lots of little pieces of seemingly nothing.

It was a whole symbolic thing for me essentially.

After that I felt like I was home, in yet another dramatic sense.

Thayd felt right, what with its trashy streets and mismatched themes. Illium and its golden and crimson towers had never struck me as somewhere I belonged.

From that point on, things blur. I explored Galeras after that, introduced to the dire situation that was the Dominion descending upon the Exiles, ready to blast them all to kingdom come to reclaim a planet they believed theirs. I felt the tension, in a good way. It was a great story waiting to unfold, I thought. And I get to see it all from the beginning and be a part of it. I was absolutely ecstatic.

And then, from there, I went to Whitevale. One of the most FRUSTRATING ZONES I will never forget. I don’t even remember why. Maybe it was the size. Over time, I grew to love it in its own weird way, only because I departed for the damn MOON (Farside) afterwards and realized I hated the lack of gravity.

But, despite all. I had so much fun.

I thought about Roger and how he’d come to the Exiles, because I still wanted him to have a connection to the Dominion somewhere. I wanted to try exploring new character tropes and such with him, I wanted to be bold and take chances with ideas and do things I’d rarely seen people do (in my case? Traumatic brain injuries, good going.) I did myresearch, I kept exploring the world, I put all the pieces together little by little and I crafted a story. A story that grew larger and larger and larger and branched out to other characters I created alongside just Roger.

Suddenly I had an entire ‘world’ on my hands. Maybe not one the size of all of Nexus in this instance, but it was ROGER’S world.

I had locations planned thanks to the housing system, I had different story lines going alongside the ‘main one’. Every so often they would mesh and meet up and affect one another, and the ‘world’ would continue to grow from there.

These characters, new as they were, suddenly had lives. They had history, they had jobs, they had all those little aspects of fictional characters that bring them to life. Personalities, likes and dislikes, feelings, all of it. I was no stranger to creating characters, of course they did! In fact, most of them were based off many existing characters I had already HAD, just Wildstar-ified.

Over time, they became their own separate entities, only because they had grown and branched out into different directions I had never dreamed they would.

I don’t remember how long I had been in this enormous creative process of planting my roots. Maybe a year or two? It didn’t really matter. I was having the absolute time of my life.

However, on the back burner I knew all those awful things were still being said about me out there. I continued to play the game and storycraft mostly by myself. I knew if I stayed away from the masses that were WSRP, then no one would ever have any ‘proof’. No one could twist anything I said, or twist interactions I had with people, and use it against me.

You can’t accuse someone of something or things when all they do is play by themselves in their own little box all day long, can you? That was my line of logic.

Naturally I still got blocked from people’s tumblrs and such, which I found out on complete accident when I would try to fav posts. I never showed up to events. I did my artwork and only did artwork of my or my friends characters. Everything was very controlled.

And then one fucking day in August, my name gets tagged in someone’s call out post. At first I fucking panic, because of course. What did I do NOW? I made EXTRA SURE to stay out of everyone’s way. Who could POSSIBLY HAVE A BEEF WITH ME-

I checked the post.

Turns out, I wasn’t the one being called out.

No.

It was that person who’d been HOUNDING me for several years at that point, who was finally being called out.

The original poster had mentioned my name because, according to their words, and I’ll never forget it, ‘they heard through the grapevine’ that all that nasty crap had happened to me. Turns out, I wasn’t the only one who had been treated this way. MANY other people had been. There had to have been a good two handfuls of them out there, maybe more, who had been harassed by this person and their crummy friends. I was named in the post, and all the abuse I had took was relayed to the entire damn community (however it was worded in a way that it had to have been from an outsider’s perspective who’d heard the rumors spread about me, and never spoke to me directly. Cuz I didn’t know ANY OF THESE people and some of the details were wrong...but I digress.)

My business was practically on the front page of the Wildstar and WoW RP community (A smaller portion of the latter.) People had known about what happened to some degree. They had been on the receiving end of these rumors, they heard all the bullshit, they looked me up, they saw I had no dirt to my name. Never did anything to anybody. Maybe some of the stories I had told got relayed to them via playing telephone with other people, I’ll have no real way of knowing for certain.

If people didn’t know me then, they sure knew me NOW, I thought.

It turned into a hot fucking mess after that. People came out with their stories, people got angry at the victims, or at the abuser. There was collateral damage from what I could see from my spot in the corner.

That bad person was supposedly reprimanded by their guild leader for the backlash they received, though I’ll never know how big it actually was. It was probably really small, realistically. But like I said, I don’t know.

It was only then that I was finally believed. Like, completely. There were always little shreds of doubt with people, but this? This blew it out of the water.

I wasn’t at fault. People saw it wasn’t my fault.

I felt…

Liberated?? Like the shackles of this depressive, anxious...whatever DISASTER state I was in, finally broke off. And so QUICKLY too. I didn’t really know what the hell to do. There was nothing I COULD do except move on and try to recover.

It was OVER. It was finally fucking over and I was at a loss, because I had grown used to living in a state of panic and sadness and anger and god knows what else.

So, slowly, I started to.

I came to the conclusion, now that it was over, or ‘over’, I wanted to make some new friends.

Roger and company had already been set up and I found very little wiggle room for collaboration with people I didn’t know. So? What better way to fix that than make a new character to use to reach out to new folk?

I grabbed one of my older characters I salvaged from a falling out I had had before this entire post began, fixed him up and threw him into Thayd face first.

And so was the infamous Captain Yaedra reborn. With an e added to his fake name because it was ‘Yadra’ before, yet for some reason both names are said exactly the same way.

I had no idea what to do with him. I hated elves. I hated long ears. They were boring. Everyone was making them and beautifying them and whatever else. I was salty. I wanted to create a raccoon more than I wanted an elf.

The zombie aesthetic definitely helped me some.

I played through all the Mordesh areas, trying to learn as much as I could about their history, about Grismara, about the Contagion.

A zombie story...it utterly fascinated me. And considering I had not changed Captain’s outfit design from his original self in the slightest? Once more, I rolled up my sleeves and began to craft a world. Another world.

Yaedra’s entire world. And by extension, my own version of a portion of Grismara.

His hometown, his career, his life, his family, every little bit. I brought it all to life once more, and soon found myself living in the ‘past’ as much as I was living in the ‘present’. As far as character timelines go.

During all this, I tried being nice to random people, or I saw art and commented on it, I tried to be more open with the community, I even joined another small guild and in the end I ended up making some really great friends who I still talk to today!

They loved what I had created. And I loved their creations in turn. We formed a tight knit group of ‘heroes’ if you would. Got into all kinds of IC shenanigans. It was fun, it was silly, it was dramatic. I didn’t feel any pressure to be anyone in particular. I felt like I could be myself, and so could Captain. We were where we belonged. And it was fantastic. And still is.

From there, I met some of their friends, and so on and so on, and I did end up gaining a small bit of presence in the community via commissions and doing my own artwork as well. Things were finally nice, and calm.

I felt like I had waded through a war of some kind, and finally, at long last, it was OVER. Peace had finally COME. I had gone through a lot of mental trauma, but as the months and several years went on, I slowly came around. I tried very hard to. My dragon scales grew thicker as time went on, and my flames certainly hotter.

And, after a while… I found myself playing Wildstar less and less. Not because I hated it, not at all. But because it no longer felt like a crutch to me. I no longer felt as though I needed it to stay afloat. I had grown and changed, for the better no doubt. I learned to stand my ground from all the knocks I had taken, I learned to start speaking up when things were being done to me that weren’t right, or nice, or whatever. Did I end some friendships that way? Sadly, yes.

But I was done. I wouldn’t be ANYONE’S punching bag anymore.

The Exiles toughened me up. I wasn’t about to take ANYONE’S crap and neither was Captain. Both of us, fists BARED.

My time on Nexus dwindled even more.

I went back to WoW out of habit, and spent more time there. Soon enough I was hardly logging onto Wildstar at all. Many people were bored of the game’s lack of ...everything. Content most certainly. You could only do the same things so many times. I wasn’t part of a huge RP guild that constantly had events going, though I was by the end (but even that was kind of flakey because people just weren’t as interested in the game as they had once been.)

I hadn’t thought much about my story lines or characters. They had, over time, fallen into situations and such that I had long resolved. My ‘characters’ were tired of adventure and drama, and I wanted to give them a chance to have their happily ever afters, via ‘soft-retiring’ them. I still wrote stuff and drew art on the side, just….less of it.

In the months before Wildstar, I rarely thought about Nexus at all.

Until the horn sounded with Wildstar’s imminent closing.

For months prior to that, I had been sitting and watching. I knew it had been on the way. NC SOFT being...NC SOFT of course (with Carbine’s mismanagement in general, though at the time I did not know about this,) made this more than obvious.

So it didn’t come as a surprise to me.

If anything, I felt a sort of subdued melancholy about it.

If I can compare it to anything, it was like watching a pet or something grow old. There was the initial excitement of a new friend, and the beginning years were amazing and fast and fun filled and emotional. And then over time, things grew comfortable. I didn’t need to give Nexus my full attention anymore. ‘We’ had this ‘understanding.’ I could always go back to Nexus whenever I wanted. I always had a place there waiting for me. Characters, fun, stories, etc.

And then I began to move on.

Wildstar for me was a lot of things. It was a period of mental destruction, it was a period of rebirth and growth for me as a person, it was a reminder of the roller coaster ride that was good and bad times all bundled into one. It was my ‘growing up’ period. It was the rocky road of a transitional phase from the end of my childhood, to the beginning of my adult years.

Yes I know this might sound silly, all over an MMO that barely lasted at all, and the last thing I wanna do is be silly, but it’s how I felt. I’m not going to try to disguise it as something else, because that was what it all was to me.

The months sped by and before I knew it, it was the last day the server was up. Wildstar would be closing that evening or afternoon, or whatever. I don’t recall the time.

I had sat there debating whether or not to attend that final count down.

A part of me wanted to. I wanted to be there, to send off this MMO that had meant so much to me!

But another part of it told me to not go.

In the end, I did not go.

Not because I would be crying, or throwing a fit or whatever.

The main reason I didn’t go, was because I wanted to remember Nexus the way it was. I didn’t want to see people bunched up in one area, being turned into all sorts of critters, I didn’t want the lag to destroy my computer, I didn’t want to see their storm of messages and how sad everyone was, I didn’t want to read the Caretaker’s countdown messages saying how he’d miss us, in his own special way.

To me, all that meant Wildstar was due to die at any moment. That Nexus would suddenly cease to be, that all these things everyone worked so hard on, would just be gone, in the blink of an eye.

I didn’t want that to be the last memory I had of that place.

And so, the shut down came. The night went on.

I woke up the next morning, and everything felt ok, for the most part. Yes I felt like I was missing a piece of myself, but it was a lot smaller than I can say for some people.

The hole I had in my heart had mostly patched itself up with nicer memories. With the possibilities that were yet unexplored.

As far as I WAS, and am, aware? Nexus isn’t dead. Not at all. It’s just sleeping, for right now. It’s taking a well needed rest. It’s not really gone.

All the stories, all the characters, they exist in our head spaces. They still go on. I still write for them occasionally.

If anything, I feel like they have even MORE to explore now.

These days, people are working or playing already on private servers, and while I entertain the idea of joining one or finding another group to play with… Well, that’s all it really ends up being. An idea.

I’m perfectly happy with what I got out of Wildstar, and what I got to take away from it and keep.

I grew as a person, albeit the hard way (but that’s just how it is sometimes.) My creativity grew, my ability to make better stories and characters grew alongside that. I made new friends that I still keep to this day. That bad person got their just desserts and my most-likely-over-exaggerated-because-I’m-sure-people-have-gone-through-worse-torment was finally put to rest. I had more confidence in myself, yada yada… You get the idea.

Everything had resolved, for the most part.

Everything was said and done, regarding that chapter of my life.

And what a ride it was.

BUT I have to say, if there’s one specific thing I favor, that I got from this entire putrid mess that I would do it all over again for??

I got Cap back.

So, thank you for returning my raccoon to me, Nexus. I’ll never forget it. One day when those private servers are finished and the game is mostly restored, I’ll definitely come back to play through it again, and most likely come up with even more new adventures for me to write and explore.

Until then, cupcakes! Dovah signing off on this...eight page story-rant!

[thelovingschool]

The Fantastic Four to the Fourth Power, Part 1

I've recently finished Doris Kearns Goodwin's excellent book, Leadership in Turbulent Times, in which she details the ways in which four US presidents served as leaders through pivotal historical moments. I reaffirmed my admiration for Abraham Lincoln, as Goodwin discusses his push to make the Emancipation Proclamation a reality. I was invigorated by the way in which Teddy Roosevelt used the executive branch of government to benefit the citizens of the northeast USA during the Coal Miners' Strike of 1902. I gained new appreciation, wonder, and awe in the way that Franklin Delano Roosevelt led the country during his first 100 days in office in the middle of the Great Depression. I came to greatly respect the legislative leadership of Lyndon Johnson as he pushed the most dramatic and beneficial domestic agenda, his Great Society, including the landmark Civil Rights Act of 1965. Whatever else Johnson may have done or not done, particularly as it relates to foreign policy and the Vietnam War, his impact on the lives of the citizens in the USA cannot be discredited.

Reading about these four presidents as they grew up, faced challenges ranging from losing elections to losing family members to losing the ability to walk, and ultimately served in the highest office of the nation to great effect was a wonderful experience. I was struck by the common themes that ran through all four of the presidents' leadership challenges. Synthesizing the lessons learned from all presidents, it seems that a leader during turbulent times must:

Have a clear sense of purpose

Adapt along the way to achieving that purpose

Build a solidly functioning team

Pay attention to messaging and timing

Build in time for yourself

Having a clear sense of purpose -- In the summer of 2020, three amazing principals, Sanee Bell, Brian McCann, and Beth Houf gave a phenomenal webinar as part of the virtual National Principals Conference. Beth shared a story of her superintendent bringing the principals in her district together at the beginning of the pandemic and asking them all to spend some time thinking about their purpose, their "why" before sharing them as a group. (Beth's "why" was maintaining relationships with students.) Other leaders have focused on the importance of having a clear purpose, including and especially Baruti Kafele. As we've all learned, what was true before the pandemic only has become exaggerated during the pandemic, and so the need for a clearly defined sense of purpose is truly vital now. My "why" during the pandemic has been to ensure that the teachers with whom I'm lucky enough to work are supported with what they need to be as effective as possible given the challenges of the pandemic.

Be adaptive along the way -- As I've already written, I am a student of philosophy as well. One of my favorite professors, Father Joe Flanagan, was a huge Socrates' fan, and every college freshman can tell you that Socrates is famous for noting how little he knew. In order to achieve your purpose, it's important to accept that we don't have all of the answers, and we will need to continually learn and grow as we work toward our goals. I have personally learned a great deal from the work of Ron Heifetz as he discusses Adaptive Leadership. Without going into another book report (I want to save that for another post), in order to be an adaptive leader, one must understand that the leadership challenge you're facing is not simple to fix, and will require a great deal of learning. Back to that webinar at NPC20, Sanee discussed how even the simple question "how are you?" carries new meaning during the pandemic. If you're going to ask that question, you need to be prepared that you might not get a quick response back. It might even be the start of a very long conversation, and that is OK. We as leaders will need to spend time maintaining those relationships empathetically throughout the pandemic.

Similarly, I realized that while I work hard to build positive culture in my school, supporting teachers during this pandemic is something I simply didn't know how to do. I'm very fortunate to be taking a course through ASCD on supporting educator mental health. The lessons I'm learning have been immediately applicable with the team at our school. Adapting along the way means sometimes changing tactics based on new information, but if you aren't seeking out that new information you won't be able to get where you're going.

Build a solid team -- It goes without saying that none of us can do our jobs alone anymore. None of us ever really could before, either. In The Long Distance Leader, summarized here, authors Kevin Eikenberry and Wayne Turmel talk about the important of relying on your team and supporting your team throughout the times when you won't physically be together. The principal I currently work with centered his entry plan three years ago on creating and maintaining a strong divisional leadership team, and he has taught me so much over the course of our partnership. While pandemic economic circumstances have meant our partnership is to come to an end in a couple of months, I am headed to my own first principalship this August, and I feel extremely fortunate. When I asked the Head of School at my future school what he is proudest of (this is his first year there), he said that had he been able to create a leadership team from his 30 years of experience in international schools, he couldn't have created a better team than the one he inherited. That is exactly the kind of joyful, strengths-based, empowering, and collaborative leader I want to work with, and knowing that he shared that information in front of members of the leadership team shows that he is willing to give credit and appreciate his team.

I heard Ben Zander, the conductor of the Boston Philharmonic, share his insight about leading, that people come to the symphony to hear music, and yet he as conductor is the only member of the orchestra who doesn't make a sound. We as leaders are strengthened by the strengths of our team. We know from the extensive literature out there and our own experience how important it is to have trust on a team, and I'll simply relate something one of my own teammates once said at a previous school about our grade-level team of teachers: "We know each other, so we like each other, so we support each other as we work together."

Messaging Matters -- I can't say it any better than Will Parker does in his book, which my partner principal and I have been learning from all year. Similarly, I loved hearing Joe Sanfelippo at the NPC in Boston in 2019 talk about the importance of shaping the narrative about education, because unless we as school leaders shape the narrative, others are going to fill in the blanks with a negative story. For me, the best example of positive storytelling about school comes from Brian McCann. His article in the latest Principal Leadership magazine is one more example of the ways in which Brian models not just for his teachers, but for the larger professional learning community to which he belongs. In fact, utilizing Brian's idea of Positive Sign Thursday is one of the factors that enabled me to land my next job, so I'm extremely appreciative. The point in all of these examples is of course a lesson that Lincoln knew 160 years ago, that it is through story that we can best communicate our purpose. It's not always easy, finding the balance between too much communication and too little, between being optimistically realistic as opposed to toxically positive, but if we as leaders aren't attending to messaging, we'll lose our chance to build a positive culture.

As an example, we committed to maintaining contact with our families during this school year and having the chance to get feedback from them at least once a month. We did extensive work in August, had a check in virtual town hall during September, and had individual and small group conferences with teachers and students in October. Things were going well. But, as November came along and fatigue set in, we stopped being as intentional about meeting systematically with our parent body, and by the time January rolled around we started to receive emails that were letting us know that we weren't opening up a space for all voices in the community to be heard, and that was leading to speculation and unrest. We're still very fortunate to have a caring community that share ideas in respectful ways, and we have since re-instituted those intentional communication systems at a minimum monthly, and are therefore back to where we had been, but the lesson around the intentionality of messaging is well learned.

As the above example illustrates, timing matters as well. The presidents often had to be wise about when to act and when not to act, when to send messages and when to not send messages. I think of the West Wing episode when President Bartlet's team discusses sending out unpleasant news on Friday afternoons, or "the trash" because no one reads the news on Saturday mornings. Or I think of how fantastic it has been to be able to, just within the last couple of years, schedule emails to be sent at certain times. Of course there are times that I am working late into the evening, but I would feel terrible in the past when I would send out an email at 10 p.m. and get an immediate response from a teacher. There are studies out there that emails received at 6 a.m. are most likely to be read, and my guess is emails received at 10 p.m. are most likely to make you think your principal is a jerk!

Time and Space for Yourself -- Thinking about the presidents, Lincoln would go to the theater or read comedy aloud, Teddy Roosevelt would take strenuous walks, FDR collected stamps. Only Lyndon Johnson had no real outlet activity, and I wonder, if he had been better at taking care of himself throughout his presidency, might he have attended to foreign policy better. Few topics have gotten more press in the educational world lately than self-care for educators, and this is a focus area in the ASCD course I'm taking as well. I am also fortunate to be a part of a group of school leaders that gather for virtual instructional "rounds" periodically, organized by a former professor at Lehigh, Jon Drescher. Self-care came up at the most recent Rounds I attended, and to be honest I find this so difficult. "If we are always working from home, and we're always home, aren't we always working?" was the question I posed, and I have had real trouble answering this. Heifetz and Linsky talk about anchoring yourself by having a confidant to talk with and a sanctuary, be it a ritual, an activity, or a place to disconnect from the demands of the job.

This was especially challenging for me in 2020, as I know it was for many of us, as the hours spent on screens and away from my normal rituals of walking and playing the piano were disrupted by the sheer demands on the job. I've gained thirty pounds in the past year, and I physically don't feel like myself. More importantly, emotionally I have struggled at times. I have been exploring different ways to recover, and like Lincoln I find comedy is helpful. If I can get in a good laugh before bed I sleep better, whether that's watching old clips of Robin Williams doing standup or Netflixing Seinfeld's Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee. At this point I'll try anything and everything so that I can begin, now that the pandemic is hopefully turning a corner, to feel like myself again.

Part of feeling like myself again is the ability to create something, to produce, based on one of my favorite activities: reading! It's been a joyful experience reading the Goodwin book and the Heifetz/Linsky book, and trying to apply the lessons learned from both to my current role and point in my career. My next post will combine another of my great loves, Harry Potter. Stay tuned to find out which president fits in which house; Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw! Thanks for reading.

[ritahanson]

Today, August 16th 2017, marks one whole year of this blog. I don’t think people will be too surprised, given yesterday’s news, that I’ve actually rewritten this part of this post from a very different perspective to when I put it in my drafts last week. News of the Broadway production closing next month has made me heartsick because this beautiful, clever show deserves far better than what it has received, largely, over the course of the transfer. A year ago today it was press night at the Old Vic, and the unfair irony of that fact in light of last night’s news hasn’t been lost on me. No musical has ever come to mean quite this much to me, and it would be difficult to put into words (succinctly, at least) how deep an impact it has made upon my life. I’ll likely take time closer to September 17th to talk about this in more detail, but for now I want to talk about one of the major ways the musical has impacted me: through this blog, and through you lot.

Rita is very different to the majority of the characters that I’ve written before, and it’s no secret that sometimes I’ve struggled with a degree of insecurity about my portrayal of her. But the way she’s been received - the anons sent my way, the IMs people have sent me, the reactions to her backstory and headcanons from both fellow roleplayers and members of this fandom alike... It’s honestly been one of the nicest experiences I’ve ever had in this community. She’s such an important character to me, and to know that people think I’m doing her justice means far more than you know.

I’ve put this under a read more, because this is a very long post. Know that if you’re reading this, if you follow me, if you’ve ever come to speak to me about this show or headcanons or anything else, I’m more grateful than I can possibly express  ♥

❄  a little town with a heart as big as any town  ::  Some of you have followed me here from my other blogs (which I will always love you for!), some of you I’ve interacted with a lot and others I’m only just getting to know. Regardless of how much or how little we’ve spoken, I adore having you on my dash (and / or my Twitter feed(s)!). I love seeing your writing, your headcanons, your interpretations of your respective characters - and your OOC rants and fangirling and all that stuff, too. Thank you for being your wonderful selves, and I sincerely hope I get the chance to interact with you all even more in the future  ♥

@almostdisaster  -  @heartreveals  ❄  @capturedafeeling  ❄  @carryindabanner  ❄  @chipconnoisseur  ❄  @conscixnceclean  ❄  @dearbewildered  ❄  @dencuement  ❄  @destinymade  -  @noterasable  ❄  @diiagnose  ❄  @dreamtbound  ❄  @goodliest  ❄   @grownvp  ❄  @hurricaneteazer  ❄  @insanelycooljk  ❄  @legendofmellda  ❄  @lookedpathetic  ❄  @miraclematildawormwood  ❄  @ofhalfway  -  @centrestaged  ❄  @pariswaiting  ❄  @princeorlofsky  ❄  @sanjvnipero  ❄  @secondchanced  ❄  @solorespiira  ❄  @starcoveredcuffs  -  @prcudandlcud  -  @singingtwiins  ❄  @stillsmiiling  ❄  @suddcnlyseymour  ❄  @thetcughest  ❄  @toughlittleguy  ❄  @unionleader  -  @starseized  -  @russiaraised  ❄  @winewomenwit  ❄  @withasigh  ❄  @worldoftheskeptic

❄  and i would make a lot of friends   ::  You guys are so important to me, and your characters are so important to Rita, that I don’t think I’ll ever adequately be able to explain how influential you’ve all been when it comes to this blog. I love the five of you so much, and I could honestly have written small essays about how utterly terrific you all are. I’ve tried to be concise when talking about you all here, but know that I think the absolute world of each of you and I’m so glad to have you in my life  ♥

SHEETAL  &  WILL  ::  @skittle479  &  @thejestershrugs

You two are unique on this list in that neither of you are roleplayers, but you are probably the two people this incredible musical has brought me closest to - and your both pretty imperative in my having maintained my enthusiasm both for the show and for writing Rita over the time we’ve known each other. I’m lucky to have shared so many Skype chats with the two of you this year, and luckier still to have had the chance to actually spend time with you both - which needs to happen again! You’re both absolutely wonderful and two of the best, sweetest, funniest, smartest people I’ve ever met on this site, and I’m thankful every day that this musical brought us all together. I hope you know how much I love you both  ♥

RAY  ::  @totheband​  -  @drivenashell​  -  @sgtson​  -  @newdaycomes​  -  @perksingup​  -  @afinecompanion​  -  @comicsup​

I struggle to remember the last time I clicked quite so quickly with another writer. Ray, I think you’re fantastic - I know I’ve told you that before, and this certainly won’t be the last time I say it. You’re so kind and so clever and so talented, and I absolutely mean it when I say that you are a literal ray of sunshine every time I see you on my dash or my timeline. You write such a diverse range of characters so exceptionally well, and the passion you put into that is nothing short of inspiring. You know how important two of your characters are to Rita, and I absolutely cannot wait to develop those friendships even more - and to get a chance to develop her relationships with all of your others! More than that though, I can’t wait to just keep getting to talk to you - about life, about this show, about other shows. You’re a wonderful person Ray, I love you a lot and I’m so glad to know you  ♥

MATTY  ::  @dclbarrio​  -  @ichoselooks​  -  @tobetrue​  -  @grxwnup​  -  @societybound​

By this point in time I know that you know how important you are to me, but it bears repeating anyway! It’s been a good few years since we first started talking (three, did we work it out as?), and we’ve both had our fair share of blogs in that time. You’re one of very few people I’ve ever followed from blog to blog, and there are a lot of reasons for that. You are easily one of the most talented, intelligent, witty and kind people I’ve ever had the pleasure of getting to know, and I hope you realise how important our friendship is to me. I always love writing with you no matter what blogs we happen to be on because you write each of your characters with such detail and such a unique voice (and who can forget our penchant for shared NPCs!), and I love logging on to find another long IM about theatre and life and gossip and everything else from you. Hopefully we’ll get the chance to catch up properly over a cup of tea again sooner rather than later! I love you so much Matty, thank you for putting up with me for so long  ♥

REBECCA  ::  @philconnors​

I’ve said before now - more than once - that I’d never have started writing Rita if it wasn’t for your encouragement, and I know that I wouldn’t still be writing her now if not for you. I don’t think either of us could have predicted how important this show would be to us both - how tied up into the beginning of our relationship it would be, or how many adventures we would have as a result of it. Thank you for not thinking twice about all the stupid things we do for the love of theatre. Thank you for encouraging me to write Rita. Thank you for being the best writing partner that I could ask for. Thank you for always rambling and ranting with me about Phil and Rita, about this show, about every other show we’ve shared a love for, and about everything else in our lives. Thank you for always being there for me. Thank you for loving me as much as you do. I love you more than anything in the world. You’re my best friend, and the love of my life, and I’m so lucky and so thankful that I have you to share all these adventures with. There are so many more adventures to come - my love, we haven’t even started  ♥

[astudiouswizard]

Not too long ago, the wonderful @criticalrolo made this beautiful commission for me about two of my NPCs, Malark Greycastle and Samuel Theen. 

Fast forward to now when I’ve finally built up the courage to share one of the things that I’ve written about them - their first meeting. cue the reluctant allies to friends to lovers ;)

“Greycastle!”

He turned to address whomever had called him and snapped to attention. A short, broad man approached, wearing a smirk that spelled trouble. Mal was immediately on edge. “Captain Lorent. What can I do for you, sir?”

“We have some new arrivals this night. Join me in the War Office. It’s about time that you got out of the war games and into the actual war.”

The War Office was where the planning happened. Mal knew that; had known that since he’d arrived 2 years ago. As a lieutenant, he was eligible to be invited to attend strategic meetings, but, so far, had not been. Apparently, that was changing.

“I have a feeling,” Lorent continued, “that we may need your no-nonsense attitude. The fresh meat may be a little over optimistic about the state of this war.”

Malark Greycastle followed Captain Lorent through the fort, brushing by other soldiers on the way. He could tell which ones had been there for awhile and which ones were brand new. 

The new ones, straight from the War College, strode through the fort in a way that sent many older soldiers groaning. They all shared the same optimistic glimmer in their eye, like they believed that they were personally going to turn the tide of the war. Mal knew that it wouldn’t take long for them to realize that they would be lucky to survive it. 

In contrast, the soldiers who had been at the fort for awhile all carried the slumped posture of people who had already come to terms with their own mortality. They trudged through the streets of the outpost, going about their duties with the least amount of exuberance necessary.

As Mal passed them and made eye contact, there was no smile or nod, but they met his eyes in weary recognition of a possible shared fate. 

He put his head down and caught up with Lorent, continuing to follow him through the haphazard maze of streets that made up the Empire’s station. 

The Central Office was built hastily but sturdily. Planks of wood made up its structure with small barred windows showing the outside world. Built for function and not form, it was neither comfortable nor aesthetically pleasing, but it served its purpose: it gave the higher ups a place to plan their war. 

Lorent pushed through the door first. Mal followed, still feeling like he was a child who had stumbled into the adult’s lounge. Three figures were already hunched over the table, which was covered in maps and scattered pieces of orders from the city. Mal recognized General Robert Heillen, leader of the War Mages, and General Vel Suffep, leader of the War College, but the third man was unknown to him. 

Heillen looked up at their entrance, tearing himself away from the conversation the three had been engrossed in. “Captain Lorent, you’re late.” 

“My apologies, sir. I went to find my second. I felt it was time that he was involved in these meetings.” 

Mal heard the words but knew that Lorent had ulterior motives for inviting him here. If he had to guess, he would say it had something to do with the newcomer. With short blond hair and a neutral expression, the man’s rigid posture and the way his hand was casually sitting on the pommel of his sword showed that he was new. That and Mal had never seen him around the fort before. Even as Mal analyzed him, he could feel himself being analyzed in return. 

He absent-mindedly wondered what the other man saw. Did he notice the robes of the War Mage Academy? Or maybe it was the spell gloves tucked into his belt? Did his cockiness cause him to see a mage who was wearing no armor so could probably be easily defeated? Repressing a smirk, he turned his attention back to the conversation. 

“I was just asking Lieutenant Theen how many new recruits had arrived today.” Heillen’s attention shifted from Lorent to the blonde haired man who cleared his throat and straightened his spine, if it was even possible to make it any straighter at this point. 

“1 company, sir, of 163 guards. Among them is a platoon of 16 graduates from the War Mage Academy.” Mal saw the man’s eyes flick to him before going back to Heillen.

General Suffep, an older woman with an eyepatch over her left eye, smiled. “Very good, Captain.” The smile dropped a second later as she asked, “Did you have any desert before you could reach the outpost?”

With the hike from the War College, which was on the other side of the Sealsom mountains from their position, desertion was common among the troops. Training to do something was much different than actually doing it and reality tended to strike as they made their way to the outpost. 

The man’s expression was hard to read as he looked among the room. “No, General. We left the War College with 147 trained recruits, met up with the 16 recruits from the War Mage Academy near Rahero, and I able to account for all 163 soldiers upon arriving here.”

Suffep nodded and turned to Heillen. They exchanged a glance before Heillen nodded. “Very good. What news do we have from the Tiveran Fort?” The question was directed at Lorent as Heillen’s gaze slid away from the newcomer to Mal and him. 

Lorent, in turn, looked towards Mal.

“The Tiveran Fort has been dormant for the past few weeks. There has been no movement in or out and the army remains occupied in normal training procedures, nothing serious enough to warrant overpreparation for an impending attack. I should be receiving another report within a few weeks to confirm or negate this.” Mal watched the room as he spoke. Lorent was beaming, Suffep was watching him with untrusting eyes, and the newcomer looked like he was trying to solve an especially challenging riddle. 

“Well done. Keep me apprised of the situation,” Heillen said, although he said it to Lorent.

“Of course, general,” Lorent answered. 

“If there is nothing else pressing to report, you’re dismissed.” Heillen waited for someone to say something and when no one did, he turned and strode through one of the doors in the back of the room. 

Lorent slunk away from Mal and over to Suffep. If he wanted to, Mal could probably listen in on whatever was being exchanged, but he was more interested in the newcomer. He waited by the door upon seeing the man round the central table and head in his direction. 

“Allow me to welcome you. I’m Lieutenant Malark Greycastle,” he announced, pouring in a measure of charisma as soon as the other man was within range. Mal held out a scarred hand and waited for the man to finish his resumed analysis. 

Seemingly satisfied, he reached out a pale hand and clasped Mal’s darker one. 

“Lieutenant Samuel Theen.” 

Up close, he looked even younger than before. His serious expression at the moment couldn’t hide the laugh lines around his mouth and his eyebrows were constantly moving in response to what he was hearing or feeling. A head tilt here or there exposed an excitement and vitality that older soldiers had lost. How is he this young, this fresh out of the War College, and a lieutenant? Mal asked himself. Then, he asked Theen. “Straight out of the War College and already a lieutenant. How did you manage that?” 

Theen’s chin went up as his eyes hardened. Even with his rigid posture, Mal still had an inch or two on him, but that didn’t seem to dismay him as he answered, “I graduated top of my class - meaning that I was eligible to take the command test.”

“Really?”

“With my score and the recommendations of the instructors, there, I was granted the rank of Lieutenant.”

“I see.”

Those responsive eyebrows dipped as he scowled at the taller man. “I hope you do.”

Mal knew he was meant to feel intimidated. Between the scowl and the way that Theen had crossed his arms, every silent signal was meant to force him to back down. “Question for you, Lieutenant Theen.” If it was possible, Theen’s scowl deepened. “Have you actually seen any active combat? Outside of the school?”

Theen’s eyes said that he knew where this was going; that he had already guessed the predictable climax of this conversation. Mal could only guess that Theen figured he was intending on holding experience over training. But Mal enjoyed doing the unexpected, surprising people in ways that they had never been before. 

“I haven’t had the opportunity,” Theen answered.

“Well,” Mal said, turning towards the door, “you seem capable and competent.” There’s the confusion he noted as he looked back towards the other man. “I hope that your instructors were right. We’re often lacking in those qualities. If it comes to it, I’m hoping that you’ll be there to watch my back. Good night.” He forced himself to walk out without looking back, again. As much as he would love to see Theen’s face in that moment, he restrained himself with a hope that it would be worth it later. 

Mal waited for Lorent to leave the building. He leaned against the wall, folding the shadows around himself so that no one else noticed him as they passed. First, Suffep and Theen left, speaking quickly in hushed tones. Then, Lorent followed. He seemed unsurprised when Mal seemed to materialize from the side of the War Office to fall  into step beside him. 

“Why did you bring me to that meeting?” Mal asked, voice low and exacting. 

“Straight to the point, I see.”

“It’s my job, sir.”

“Your job is why I brought you.”

“Sir?”

The corner of Lorent’s mouth curled. “Look at her. Suffep parades him around like a prized pony. I was hoping to match her tool with my own.”

Mal bristled at the admittance that he was nothing but something to be used to Lorent. It was nothing new, he’d known it was the truth since the beginning, but the admittance of it was aggravating. He kept his features schooled so as not to reveal anything. 

“In addition, I worry that this Lieutenant Theen may cause problems later. It would be better if he was kept out of the way.” 

Mal nodded. “I understand, Captain.”

“In the future, you will attend every war meeting. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now keep your ear to the ground, Greycastle, and do your job.” 

“Yes, sir.”

[illusivegore]

Gore Reviews Cosmic Star Heroine

Release Date: April 11, 2017 Platforms: PlayStation 4 (reviewed), PlayStation Vita (reviewed), Steam, Nintendo Switch

Zeboyd Games has long been a developer with much potential and with every release their style and design has improved. I’m excited to say that with the release of Cosmic Star Heroine they have hit their stride and created one the most fun “old school” RPG’s I’ve played in a long time.

Cosmic Star Heroine follows the sci-fi tale of Alyssa L’Salle, a woman on a journey to dissect a conspiracy and discover just who is good and evil on the planet of Areanu and beyond. Both well written and fantastically paced, Cosmic Star Heroine’s story is a refreshing reminder that RPGs don’t need to be bogged down with unnecessary jibber-jabber just for the sake of padding the length. During her journey Alyssa is joined by a variety of characters including a hacker, a rock star, and a gunmancer, among others. Each character has a distinct personality that shines through in the story and in combat as each has a set of abilities that fits them perfectly.

Cosmic Star Heroine’s combat is turned based with a heavy focus on strategy and fluidity. Each member of your team has a variety of abilities to choose from (with more unlocking as you level up), ranging from standard weapon attacks to elemental attacks to attacks that cause certain ailments like poison or charm and many more in between. In most cases, each of these abilities (up to eight per character) can only be used once before they are disabled, but having a character use a defend command will allow them to recharge during battle. Along the same lines, you’ll also be able to bring up to eight items (eventually) into battle. All items are shared by your party, can only be used once per battle, and replenish following the encounter.  These items can do everything from replenish a team member’s HP to buff their stats. On the surface it’s pretty standard combat for a turn-based RPG, but digging deeper allows for a variety of strategic options.

What sets the combat of Cosmic Star Heroine apart from other games of its ilk are the style, hyper, shield, and desperation mechanics. As the battle wages on, the heroes (and enemies) will gain style based on the abilities they choose to use. As style increases so does the effectiveness of your actions, so in most cases the longer the battle, the more powerful the combatants become. Hyper is another mechanic that will allow you to unleash more powerful attacks. Each member of your crew has a specific number of turns in which it takes them to go “hyper.” For example, Lauren (the rock star) will start each battle hyper and then it will take three turns to build back up, where as Alyssa will go hyper after two turns and then every three turns thereafter. When a member of your crew has hyper active they will do double damage or have twice the chance to afflict an enemy with an ailment on that turn.

Each of your crew members can also equip what’s known as a shield. Each shield effects stats differently and offers up a variety of abilities to use in combat known as programs. Think of it as special moves that other games would charge you MP to use, but in Cosmic Star Heroine they are free to use. The caveat being that each of these shield programs can only be used once per battle (and defend commands will not replenish them), adding yet another layer to strategizing.

The desperation mechanic in Cosmic Star Heroine is a unique ability that allows you to keep a dying party member in the fight. As a crew member is dealt what would normally be a killing blow, if they have enough style points, they will go into negative HP and desperation mode will be activated. Once activated, you will have until the end of that character’s next turn to either heal them and take them back into positive HP or go out guns blazing with one final attack. In desperation mode damage is increased and self-HP restoration is reduced, so prioritizing what the crew needs in these moments can add yet another wrinkle into your battle strategy. Regardless of how you choose to use their last moments, if a character ends up with their HP in the negative at the end of their turn they will be lost for the current battle. It’s an interesting mechanic that lets you use certain abilities and strategies to its benefit. For us less than stellar players, it can also be a bit of a safety net if things go off the rails.

Strategy really is at the core of the combat experience and you can make it as easy or deep and involved as you please. That being said, if you plan to tackle the harder, more brutal difficulties Cosmic Star Heroine has to offer you’ll need to be fully versed in how each of these unique combat mechanics work. Without that knowledge you won’t stand a chance. It took me at least half a dozen tries just to beat the first tutorial enemy on the hardest difficulty.

Combat and story aside, the first thing you’ll probably notice about Cosmic Star Heroine is its art direction and old school design. In the vein of 16-bit RPGs like Chrono Trigger, it is a gorgeous game to look at when exploring and in combat. It also offers up animated cutscenes that, while not bad by any means, didn’t feel quite as on par with the polish of the actual in-game art. Another bright spot in Cosmic Star Heroine is the soundtrack. Each music track perfectly conveys the feeling and mood during each section of the game and are high quality throughout.

While there are some amazing aspects to Cosmic Star Heroine, it isn’t without some technical issues. I had the game crash on me three times in the same spot (the first time losing over an hour of progress because the game doesn’t feature any kind of auto save) and freeze up on a couple of other occasions. I also got stuck behind or on objects a few times and was forced to load a previous save in order to continue. This all occurred following the release of the game’s first patch. Luckily, the game allows you to save at any point and you’re going to want to do that often. Don’t be like me and learn that lesson the hard way. While a game completely crashing is never a good thing, if you do save often it’s also not completely game breaking.

Outside of the technical issues there are other minor problems that make Cosmic Star Heroine feel lacking in polish. Small things like a number of characters simply being called “NPC” or typos in the dialog stand out because the rest of the game is so well done. I also found the difficulty to be a bit uneven in parts. There were a few times I’d find an area with weaker enemies and gain little to no XP after battling more powerful enemies in adjacent areas. Then there were times when I’d breeze through an area only to come up against a collection of enemies that felt far more lethal than the rest and then that would usually be followed by a boss fight that wasn’t nearly as difficult. All of these issues are minor nitpicks, but they are noticeable in an otherwise superb experience.

Although it does have some technical issues (which Zeboyd seems to be doing a nice job of patching quickly), Cosmic Star Heroine is still a great game. If you’re a fan of RPGs, old school or modern, you should do yourself a favor and give this one a go. With a cast of memorable characters, fantastic combat, an amazing soundtrack, and numerous Easter eggs to uncover there is so much to enjoy here. It is evident that much love went into making Cosmic Star Heroine during its three years in development and you’d be hard pressed to find a more satisfying experience as its price point. Just remember…save often.

Score: 4 out of 5

[recentanimenews]

Bookshelf Briefs 3/20/17

Barakamon, Vol. 13 | By Satsuki Yoshino | Yen Press – For a relaxed slice-of-life series set on an out-in-the-boonies Japanese island, Barakamon has had a surprising amount of character development, mostly coming from its lead, Seishuu Handa. He and Naru go to Tokyo as promised in the last volume, and he meets his supposed arranged marriage fiancée, who turns out to have lost about 150 pounds since she had the photo taken that he saw. They get on very well, but, as is noted in the text, it’s bizarre to see two people with so little sexual tension. (I assume Barakamon‘s BL fandom in Japan is as large as it is here, which might explain why.) Meanwhile, his decision to become a calligraphy teacher is pitch-perfect and flows well with what he’s been doing. A fantastic volume. – Sean Gaffney

Everyone’s Getting Married, Vol. 4 | By Izumi Miyazono | Viz Media – This series continues to tie all of its various plots together with ease, ranging from serious events like Kamiya’s aggressive courting of Asuka and the fact that Ryu is a celebrity and being seen with him would have a backlash on both their careers to lighter fare such as Asuka being upset that Ryu paying too much attention to her belly during sex reminds her she’s gained weight. Speaking of sex, we get the dreaded “here’s a story from earlier in the author’s career to pad out the volume” extra. Fortunately, it’s good. Moreover, it’s HOT—possibly the most erotic thing Viz has published in some time, with a frankness that blows away both the reader and the heroine. An excellent adult romance series. – Sean Gaffney

Happiness, Vol. 3 | By Shuzo Oshimi | Kodansha Volume three of Happiness offers further proof that Shuzo Oshimi’s teen vampire drama may be the best manga you’re not reading. Though Oshimi has a knack for introducing surprising plot twists, he never takes short cuts to get there; as volume three demonstrates, Oshimi makes these narrative twists and turns effective through meticulous character development and world-building. By the end of the volume, we have a clearer sense of what might happen to Makoto’s family and friends if he continues to live among them as a normal teenager. Expressive, trippy artwork adds special urgency to Makoto’s story, giving us a better sense of how hard it is to be a hormonal fourteen-year-old vampire with a conscience. Edvard Munch would approve, I think. – Katherine Dacey

Haikyu!!, Vol. 9 | By Haruichi Furudate | Viz Media – The tournament is over, and our heroes lost—not uncommon in long-running sports series. So it’s back to aggressive training—provided, of course, our two young phenoms can pass their midterms, as they won’t be allowed to go to Tokyo to practice otherwise. Fortunately, the team has a new team manager who’s learning the ropes from the old one, and gives us—horrors!—a second female regular in the series. Yachi is cute and somewhat introverted, and reels a bit from dealing with overtly in your face people like Shoyo. She’s also smart, though, and has an eye for design. I like her. Meanwhile, there’s a new rival on Nekoma’s team, a Russian kid who’s just as phenom as our heroes. What will we learn in the next volume? – Sean Gaffney

Nisekoi: False Love, Vol. 20 | By Naoshi Komi | Viz Media – We’re beginning to wrap up Nisekoi, and much as the fandom may have wanted it to end with an actual harem, that ain’t happening. The first to fall is the last one in, which is to say Yui, Raku’s older sister figure and teacher. She’s required to either marry Raku in a week or return to China for an arranged marriage, which is annoying as she’d just given Chitoge the “I want my beloved to be happy” speech. The best moment in the volume belongs to Marika, who heard said speech and finds it infuriating that Yui would simply leave her feelings unexpressed and not try her hardest to win Raku. And, of course, Raku is still clueless about the fact that Chitoge is now Best Girl, though the narrative will spin that out a bit longer. Very well-written if frustrating. – Sean Gaffney

Sword Art Online: Progressive, Vol. 5 | By Kiseki Himura and Reki Kawahara | Yen Press – Last time I noted that the manga changed a few things from the end of the first novel. This new volume, adapting the second novel, goes even further, adding a whole raft of new scenes that give more added depth to the Dark Elves—particularly Kizmel’s doomed sister and her fiancé. This allows us to have more extended fight scenes, and also gives the whole thing a feeling of growing tragedy, but it also helps emphasize one of the big plot points of book two—are the NPCs really sentient? Kirito says no, and points out that Tilnel, Kizme’s late sister, may have even been ‘modeled’ on Asuna after they encountered each other. Asuna, who is far more of a dreamer than Kirito, thinks differently. This has become essential. – Sean Gaffney

Welcome to the Ballroom, Vol. 3 | By Tomo Takeuchi | Kodansha Comics – After a couple of volumes that seemed to try to balance out possible romance with dancing, this third one tilts firmly towards the ‘dancing’ side of the equation, and it’s all the better for it. Tatara is a faster learner than anyone had really given him credit for, though he needs to build up his stamina, a fact that I suspect will come back to bite him in the next book. He also learns that as the male partner in a ballroom dancing team, his job is to better bring forth the beauty of his female partner. And then there is the art, which is the series’ main strength and reason to buy. It’s brilliant, making the reader feel as if they’re right there in the room. This series has gotten very good very fast. – Sean Gaffney

By: Katherine Dacey