#i need you to know that Hermits Consider the Moon is becoming a series of increasingly time intensive drawings

[deadlyhuggles6]

moonchild on a late-night delivery

[iconsumeheadcanons]

gathering notes on this crossover

making a list of observations and headcanons of todays crossover episodes

keralis and jevin live in a universe where youtube and twitter exist. keralis knows sausage from videos. sausage doesnt know what theyre talking about and he calls servers ‘realms’.

pix knows of the internet (tbf he doesnt have a character this time round)

is keralis a god. im just gonna assume he is.

tango and jimmy know each other from double life. tango had love hearts on his screen when he recognized jimmy. they just squealed at each other. i am losing my mind. scar also thought jimmy was in another life serie. jimmy knows them all

grian...grian..

“you cant hide from me timmy! >:)”

multiverse grian still going strong of course lmao, grian knows everybody

his character seems to understand the existence of servers and streams. would this be considered awareness of internet or are streams like technoblades chat/voices thingie?

“so who doesnt have an open chest policy?”

fae grian/borrower grian becomes closer to truth every day

(tango and fwhip was a combo i never knew i needed but its so awesome. honestly many of the hermits and fwhip is awesome)

pirate joe is very concerned about how shocked papa k looks like all the time

almost everyhermit showed up in their default skins. impulse is still a bald dwarf tho. pearl is god.

multiple hermits want to make their own empires. they have learned nothing from King Rentheking

jevin da slime. shelby keeps killing his brethren ;; no one bring him to animalia

ofc they did not check to see if they can get back to hermitcraft

OMG THERES NO ACTUAL PORTAL BACK. THEY ARE VERY STUCK.

is there an admin left on hermitcraft? x and tango and joe are stuck in empires lmao

joel knows them as well. im just gonna say its probably bc hes god.

convex are silly as usual

cub is a fan of joel the god. i love cub being completely unfazed by the innuendos. there is absolutely nothing strange about sausage giving keralis his wood.

grian is stealing. i mean borrowing.

ONE NIGHT ARMOR STAND

sausage doesnt know what an armor stand is lmao

empires people wonder whats up with false. shes missing her clothes that she stole from a dead body. is she okay

cogsmeade false took a introverted trip away from all this noise. her mysterious notes might reference the traveling hermits

“THIS IS SAINT PEARL!” fwhip in the background, “ there is no legal action for murder”

scott thinks pearl might be a cosplayer

pearl does not know who sausage is at all, uh oh.

via sausage’s notes:

Keralis: info; lumberjack, speaks spanish; powers; hypnotizing gaze +15

jevin: half slime/skelly, likes to steal; powers unknown

grian: blamed for rift (good knowledge for if sausage ever wants to sue him for emotional damages btw), likes the color red; powers; pesky bird (as heard from others)

scar: cat lover, doesnt like unsafe nether portals, powers; big goblin ears for flight

tango: thinks bubbles is a hyena, likes big hats; powers; low level witch/spell caster

false: doesnt remember me, is she the same false?; unknown powers

impulse: likes to go underground

cub: impressed by my wood!, looks like a scientist

Pearlescent Moon: looks a lot like santa pearla?! used to be fighter; powers; +20 str, +10 ag, +15 speed, +30 awesomeness

cleo: possible pirate, pirate joe killed her parrot, undead day walker +25 (just like sausage!)

an xisuma (or shishswambam): possible pirate, witch hunter?!; powers; heavy armor protections +20 durability

pixl and doc are acquainted. no biggie

someone pls save impulse. he is still sick. very polite

how has grian not blown up the sheriffs tnt shop yet

fwhip and lizzie didnt react to mentions of Grian, but fwhip has heard of scarland theme park. dosney ascends all universes apparently

lizzie is scared of the strangers. just like kitty

oli is also multiversing

hermit locations:

scar ended up in tumble town, intends to build old west locomotive. honorary goblin, aiming for position of deputy (he might move to whoever can bring him a jellie first)

tango will be a wonky engineer for gobland

keralis is probably moving in with sausage. amores

grian and impulse are building a place for the hermits but grians trying to convince oli to move closer

joe is napping at scotts tavern for now

(everyone is gushing about the empires builds and their colors! its so cute! jimmys friends all complementing tumble town is making me smile)

empires leaders are literally all like “oh god, we have guests. we have to clean up STAT”

goblins dont need sleep, probably dont like the overworld because the phantoms

fwhips poor ears..so much noise

grians webcam mic is back. and HIS FRIENDS ARE HERE

gonna pretend his voice is messed up by the rift lol

oli flies on the power of song

grian and oli on the same smp. no one is safe.

grian is making fun oli for being poor and then immediately goes to bully timmy

HERMIT SPECIES: they are shorter. big feet. thats it. (love this idea lmao)

grian... grian.

fwhips texture pack is native variation of foliage in empires smp

hes determined to destroy the empires’s bartering system. capitalist instinct

oh no the rift isnt purple anymore,,,it broke,,,

someone please stop grian from interacting w the multiverse. he keeps getting stuck and breaking things

impulse is in very sick denial about this whole situation, someone please tuck this man into bed he is very lost

lizzie likes that impulse instinctively parkoured on her froggy village

fwhip has incurred a debt onto impulse. poor guy

empires smp is the lands of the thirteen empires

has no one noticed the princess of dawn?

joe was under the assumption that grumbot was punishing them for not finishing the content quests

joe has access to the litematica it seems like

are we counting joes court audition as joe also living in the real world. does he and keralis come from the outside world and jevin and cleo just get to hear about the internet?

someone thought empires was an old hermitcraft world

oli doesnt know most of the hermits

oli and joe is such a gift. oli has adopted them bc he looks so pathetic

im desperate to know about cub and docs reactions to this whole shebang

every emperor says joel is very mean and that he pretends to be tall so everyone humors him by building really tall doors so he thinks he can fit

everyone insisting his empire is classist

pearl and scott and joe and cub investigate upper stratos’s shrine to peril

cub, “hey impulse, have an egg in this trying time”

IMPULSE RECOGNIZES SCOTT but no one else interestingly

“just oli, not bard oli” is joes nomenclature for oli

joe was immediately overwhelmed. felt.

[makingspiritualityreal]

Numerology Life Path 9 - Your Birth Card and its Ruling Planet

Numerology Life Path Numbers and their assigned Tarot Card Meaning Series

This is a post in my new astrology/numerology/tarot series, that only concerns you, if you are a Life Path 9. Posts on consecutive Life Path Numbers will follow. Originally, I wanted to do them all in one post, but my writing turned out to be so long, I decided to split the post and seperate the Life Path Numbers. The introduction part of the post will be the same for all Life Path Numbers, in case you only read a post about your own Life Path Number, and nothing else.

Introduction The concept of a Birth Card links Tarot and Numerology together, in order to deepen our understanding of a vibration of a Life Path Number we are born with. The Birth Card, or rather Birth Cards, are Major Arcana Tarot Cards with assigned numbers, which correlate with Life Path Numbers. Understanding the meaning of tarot cards, mixed with the knowledge of Numerology Vibrations, helps create a more unique vision of your life experience. A person with any given Life Path Number, having several Major Arcana energies present in their lives, usually struggles with one of the energies more than the other. As a result, life will probably force them to focus on mastering one of these energies. In general, however, any Life Path describes both your biggest downfall and ultimate triumph - just like with an Astrology Chart, the highlighted numbers/astrology houses point to your biggest strengths and weaknesses. For a better understanding of this concept, visit my article “Natal Chart - A map of your issues?” Remember, that everyone, besides their Life Path Number and Birth Card also has a unique astrology chart. Thus, for some people embracing the higher expression of their energy is easier, for others it’s harder and it takes more time to master, and some energies become easier to deal with than others. Most human beings are somewhere in between, working on their path and having some achievements while struggling with difficulties at the same time. In the spiritual community, there are differences in opinion on linking Astrological Planets and positions to specific numerology numbers energies. My take is a result of my own personal experience, conversations with other people in my field and research, in order to give you the widest possible spectrum of ideas and increase the understanding of every Life Path Number. If you are a Master Number 11, 22 or 33, there will be a seperate post on how the Birth Cards apply to you as well. Even If you have only a basic understanding of Astrology, Tarot or Numerology, this post will still be helpful to you, because it describes the unique vibrational mix that comes from the expression of both these spiritual sciences mixed together. To calculate which Tarot Cards and what Life Path correspond to your birthday, click here.

Life Path 9 - The Hermit and The Moon

The energies of a Life Path 9 are ruled by the dynamic energy of Mars. This Life Path's main objective in this incarnation is to find a cause to devote themselves too. This cause is what sets them apart from the crowd, but also holds them together. Without that cause, or at least being on the way to finding that cause, they feel lost and unmotivated and are very prone to getting dejected with the world around them.

The reason for why this Life Path can fall into such lows when they are not moving forward with their goals is that they gain all their wisdom, understanding and depth from taking action and being "in the field". A Life Path 9 is someone, who can get illuminated by the process of a repetitive performance of a task on the way to their goal, making them a very "hands on" learner. They possess the power to find magic and depth in the mundane. However, to access that, they must immerse themselves in finding their path first. They need the material world for contrast to start the unique alchemical process, that they have a gift for. That's why this Life Path has such a knack for social causes. They know how to upgrade the energetic vibration of a group through physical processes. That is extremely powerful in the 21st century, when we have worldwide access to international communities. A Life Path 9 in their element could be an inspiring writer or a creator, whose work moves people on a larger scale. However, to access that power, this Life Path needs to find their right direction first. That is achieved most often through trial and error. A Life Path 9 is born with a crystallised, internal idea of the energy that they want to change the world with, but they need practice to find the most optimal way to externalise their gifts and express them from an authentic place. That can also involve building a specific skill, based on their intuitive gifts, which will make them learn that skill faster than anyone in their profession, for the sake of realising a larger vision.

The shadow aspect of a Life Path 9 is in the energy of being scattered, confused, misguided, lacking illumination of their purpose or true understanding of the depth of life. This can result in feeling unmotivated even further, which then leads to various coping mechanisms, such as procrastination, distraction, escapism and unfunded expectation for the world to fix their problems for them, and when that fails, blaming the world for not giving them a helping hand from the outside. In reality, this bitterness is a reflection of their desire to manifest their own path in the world, and when they are not actively doing it, the vision of the changes they themselves could be making in the world haunts and frustrates them. Many Life Path 9s are not even aware of that process, and they experience it subconsciously, which makes them even more prone to various subliminal escapism tactics.

The other characteristic vibrational trait of the 9 is its single-minded nature. While they care about community causes and things on a grander scale, and once they find a worthy goal they take it seriously, they are inherently stubborn. That works both in their advantage and to their detriment. When they have their eye on a prize, no one can stop them from achieving their goal, but if they are stuck on an idea that is working against them, or if they have gotten themselves buried in idleness, only they can truly realign themselves back on the right path. Other people's advice won't matter much to them, and even if they are outwardly polite, they will subconsciously resist anyone's guidance but their own. They may need an external forceful pressure to consider changing their course at all.

The associated Tarot Cards help us find solutions to efficiently use the energy of this Life Path Number.

The Hermit - Related to the internally solitary nature of this Life Path, the Hermit isolates himself from the whole world in order to find his truth and deepen his connection to the Source, the Universe Itself. This points out, that when in doubt the tactic for a Life Path 9 is to find answers in solitude, by using a spiritual practice that reconnects them to the voice within, mixed with trial and error. The Hermit is also a wise, old figure, which shows that for a Life Path 9 a lot of time, patience and mental effort is often necessary to be able to find their path. At its peak, this Tarot card shows a mature energy of a Life Path 9 becoming a beacon of wisdom for others, who come to them to seek counsel in times of trial, just like those seeking enlightenment look for the Hermit in his abode.

The Moon - Points to both the natural instinct, that this Life Path is so strong in, but also the element of confusion and the overwhelming sensations that can feel like a maze with no exit. However, opposites attract, and a Life Path 9 is the one capable of harnessing the energy of the Moon Tarot card by seeing a straight, clear path through the murky waters. This Tarot card points to this Life Path's ability to find the light in the deepest darkness.

The Key Word for a Life Path 9 is Direction. This Life Path's destiny is to apply direction and wisdom (The Hermit) through uncertainty and overwhelming confusion of life (Moon) by finding a path in the darkness. A Life Path 9 in a higher state of evolution knows exactly where they are going, and what is their purpose for choosing this specific path to follow. This approach is applied in all areas of life, relationships, choice of work field, time management in their daily life. Once they are in the flow, a Life Path 9 knows how to follow their objective like nobody else, if they have genuine passion for it, set their mind on it and stay on course. This Life Path illuminates the way of the true Spiritual Warrior, always walking ahead, passionate and forever faithful to his calling.

[brunhiddensmusings]

Tell me more about this conspiracy theory about dragonball as a retelling of journey to the west please

okay, some of this is pretty surface level to the point its just face value but also just more ignored then denied firstly, i must establish ‘journey to the west’ to those not familliar with it- its a 2000+ page long chinese novel from the ming dynasty, like 1600 if i recall, but odd because it focuses on a buddist mindset in a time when china still considered buddism to be a foreign influence. the author uses fairly large sections to critisize the other contemporary options to buddism such as daoism (for being largely unconcerned with helping people or betterment) and confucianism (for being rigid to the point it cant adapt and promote extremely bloated beaurocracies incapable of doing much) as well as to extoll the upsides of budism (namely magic powers) and how badass demons are journey to the west is notable for being the origin of about 80% of all anime tropes and over a dozen anime and videogames are directly based on it son goku, unsurprisingly, is pretty much a dirrect anlouge for son wukong, the magical stone monkey king that was born with laser eyes spends the first 7 chapters becoming about (i lost count) 8+ kinds of immortal, learning how to shapeshift and fly from an old hermit monk, and pissing off most gods of any note and the entire bureaucracies of both heaven AND hell. as i said, this is face value to the point its pretty open

son wukong’s identifying features including a size-changing 8 ton iron staff, being pretty much indestructible even to major gods, being extremely impulsive and moderately arrogant, flight, and pretty much openly admits he has probably eaten some people. this should sound familiar however he is not the main character, Buddha himself buries him under a mountain (which has a magic seal on top because a regular mountain wouldnt be heavy enough to hold him) to try and teach him some humility (which fails) saying he needs to wait untill someone frees him in which case he will be endebted to and be the servant of said free-er. while we progress to the ACTUAL protagonist of the story a bald monk named Tang Sanzang is in fact the central charachter, although his name has been interpereted several ways including Tripiṭaka (also the name of the baskets of scrolls hes supposed to carry). the big B entasks he of the shiny head with the task of journeying from china to india to pick up said sacred scriptures so holy they can redeem anyone and then bring them back to filthy filthy china thats badly in need of these ‘morals’ things people keep talking about. but this is where you start to get a lot of ‘wait, that sounds familiar’ when i describe things like ‘bald monk’ and the adventures cueball the magical is going to go on with his companions of anime

because almost immediately after freeing son wukong from the magic mountain of sityerassdown and putting a magic circlet on his head that causes him great pain when baldy says a prayer to keep him in line (yes this is where inuyasha gets the ‘sit’ necklace) they come across a SHAPESHIFTING PIG DEMON who turns out inst all that bad a guy its just that his new wife is very upset because she thought she was marrying a handsome bishounen despite admitting hes a dilligent worker and treats her well because hes seeking attonement for having eaten people after being kicked out of heaven (where he used to actually be a bishounen in the celestial army) for hitting on women. yet another case of DOES THIS SOUND FAMILIAR

and i just now realize why he was wearing the chinese military officers uniform or at least would sound familiar to people who watched the original ‘dragonball’ and not just DBZ where oolong and the 50 other characters who were all established to be quite powerful when used cleverly were all relegated soely to be sideline cheer squad and ‘hey, remember these guys, from back when this wasnt the kiss goku’s butt show’- which is the point here following the original journey to the west story you started with the magical monkey shenanigans (check) then he learns from hermit (check) how to fly (check) and shapeshift (i guess they thought he was powerful enough without it despite it being one of his major go-to solutions in the story but i get that they already established thats a power someone else had so i understand leaving it out narratively) battling demons, gods, and pissing off the kings of hell and the emperor of heaven (check) and then gets humiliated by Buddha (absent, again i understand leaving this out for narrative tone and to avoid being overly religious in a kids cartoon despite actively leaving king Yema in the story) teams up with the bald monk who they initially clash but becomes his friend over time (check) who then becomes the main protagonist (major not-check) magical monkey jerk is repeatedly scolded for wantonly killing people and given a magical crown of headaches ( fail) teams up with shapeshifting pig who also becomes close ally with useful powers but has deep character flaws (check) and then team up with a dragon who ate their horse who then apologizes by transforming into a horse and then everyone forgets its a dragon (wait, what) and then team up with a river god named sandy (by this time the dragonball plot has already passed mars and is orbiting Jupiter because i think this is when frankenstein appeared and then king piccolo with his sons drum, tamborine, piano, and cymbal, i think goku kills one eats another and asked a samurai if he could eat the third but this is before they retcon piccolo to be a namek {eg- from the planet ‘slug’} instead of a demon because they keep waffling if demons are real) and is then followed by a long list of falling into traps laid by demons because the monk is naive, the pig is cowardly, the monkey is foolhardy, the dragon is too busy staying in his ponysona, and the river deity is carrying the bags narratively this is confusing for several reasons but i could literally teach a college level class on what DBZ does that no writer should ever, EVER, do and every friday to prevent unkind amounts of homework point at how original dragonball at least had narrative cohesion of purpose when it went off in left field but that's part of the journey- in original dragonball everything is a journey of the human spirit for self improvement, in original journey to the west everything is a journey of the human spirit for a shot at redemption, but in DBZ everything is goku is awesome and nobody else is worth his time unless they go ‘ha-ha, i am the most powerful fight punch guy in universe, we must fight’ because fuck anyone who isnt the most powerful being in the universe and even fuck them because they almost never have a reason for being the most powerful and its irritating how shit they are like some of them are mentally five years old who gave you the power to be this dangerous. whats odd is they specifically set it up several times that goku is supposed to narratively step aside and his son(s) step up to carry on the legacy in a return to the earlier more sensable formula, even presenting them as being less powerful as him as an attempt to move away form the absurd escalation issues the series had where goku can destroy a planet by farting yet every thursday they mysteriously find someone five times stronger then the last strongest person in the universe as that wasnt the point in either original dragonball or journey to the west where being clever was always far more important then being powerful, especially as son wukong was mostly more powerful then goku anyways but still got in monster of the week shenannegans not solvable by impulsive brutality. they knew this was a problem, they understood that the endless escalation had gone to the realm where the audience had lost any investment and nobody other then goku could be useful to the story to the point that they even had a WHOLE SERIES where to try and counteract the power creep they had some weird explanation goku is actually time traveled or cursed or some shit so hes only a kid and roughly as strong as he was in later episodes of the original dragonball..... close, so close to actually addressing the problem but also keeping so many other problems krillin moving into being the protagonist would have alleviated the majority of the problems DBZ had- the power escalation bullshittery and the complete lack of stakes as you know goku is going to punch the thing untill it explodes after six episodes of yelling and anything without ‘planet gonna go boom’ no longer seems like a problem worth caring about. goku being downgraded to being the impulsive muscle on a team that included others that were less overtly powerful but still narratively useful to the adventure would have also alleviated almost all the ‘everybody who isnt goku is a fragile useless  porcelain figurine of a child’ problems that are very counter-intuitive and kind of insulting: in original dragonball, for example, master roshi was the only known human capable of doing the kamehameha which took 50 years to learn (goku learns it by watching it once and that should have been the cap for him being overpowered{a rival teacher had a more powerful version that nobody else learns}), climbed the sacred tower which took 7 years (it took goku about a week, which is well within the realm of where escalation should be), and blew up the fucking moon but in dbz his ‘power level’ is lower then his pet turtle..... despite all of that and being the one who trained goku and krillin allowing them to be absurdly strong in the first place so they apparently forgot their own history.  so taking the actual good story points they aready had and throwing them in the trash is a running problem

they even had the setup for krillin being in peril continually, all the ‘krillin dies’ memes are about on par with how often every demon on the road (which they pass like gas stations) are kidnapping and trying to eat Tripitaka, whcih is framed as despite Tripitaka being powerful he isnt as powerful as his allies but never framed as useless, especially as even goku has to seek help frequently, often from non-martial sources instead of the ‘kung fu solves everything’ mindset im unsure if anyone will want to start a fight about my statements regarding daballz but im okay with an intelectual argument about its writing .... how do i tag this? i forgot replies dont let me do that but i need to learn how to tag my rants one of theese days in hopes they actually get feedback

[bearofohu]

Luke Triton and the Lycan Curse - Prologue

PROLOGUE - The Moon Rises

Plot Summary: After leaving Britain, Luke finds himself stuck in a hermit town in rural America, surrounded by dense forests. Life seems to get worse as his father grows distant. Luke learns of the Lycan Curse, an ancient disease that turns men to savage beasts. Driven by a desire to prove himself, Luke sets off to discover the truth, only to end up with a festering bite wound, and a mystery he cannot solve without Professor Hershel Layton, and companions from his past.

Chapter Summary: Taking place mid-story, the prologue shines a light on an event that is not shown otherwise, the murder of the Prime Minister Bill Hawks at the claws of a savage, silver-furred lycan with blue eyes.

Rating: T+ (swearing, heavy gore, drugs, illness, murder, vomiting, animal horror, descriptive body horror)

Word Count: 5,073

Alt Links: fanfiction.net

A/N: Okay, so, I decided I really wanna try writing again. This time, I’m going to try to commit to a series. To be completely honest, I kind of hate the LMJ - LMDA story arc, and since the anime is ending, I’ve decided I’m going to write my own take on the events after Unwound Future. This is my own AU, alternative canon thing that is from Luke’s perspective. It’s about werewolves, corrupt politicians, Layton and Luke being father/son, crying, and blood. I also wrote a Werewolf Luke fanfiction when I was eleven, and I always thought if I was in charge of the Layton series, I’d write a story/game like this. Please enjoy and lemme know your thoughts! Hopefully, I can commit to this!

Don’t fight me.

Luke crouched, his chest heaving in a desperate effort to breathe. His knuckles were growing a strained white as he gripped them against the door of the vehicle he was taking refuge behind. Cold sweat was profusely dripping down from his forehead, and he twitched in agony as he observed the scene before him that he remained concealed from.

His vivid blue eyes could see the scene from miles away. The man in the dark trench-coat, the ever-familiar top-hat, the silk shining like some kind of beacon in the darkness. The sight of the man used to bring him a strong sense of stability, and seeing him there had always calmed his childish fits of rage down.

But that felt like centuries ago. He was not the boy he once was. As a matter of fact, he wasn’t even sure if he could be considered a boy at all… not anymore. Another twitched seized Luke’s body, and a snarl audible only to his sickened mind sounded in his pounding ears.

Don’t ignore me, pup. I will not go away.

Luke squeezed his eyes shut, and shivered with cold. The voice made his ears begin to be heightened enough to catch the confrontation happened before him.

“You cannot do this, Mr. Hawks.” The man in the top-hat said evenly, holding up a careful hand. In spite of the man’s even, experienced and strong voice, Luke could scent anxiety, nerves and worry all over him. He wondered vaguely if that scent had always been on him during their adventures, but Luke could only detect it now. As a boy, he was blind to how this man felt. He was an expert at staying calm, hiding his true emotions. After witnessing his farewell to his mate… Claire, he changed. Luke always viewed him as the greatest mystery of all, his unreadable mentor, a truly stoic man. But now, he was an open book of anxiety and sorrow. Was it Luke’s powerful canid senses, or was this truly how he had become?

Say his name, Luke begged himself, in the safety of his own mind. Hershel Layton. My mentor. He’s my friend. You remember, right? I remember him, I do...

Another hallucinogenic snarl invaded his brain, It’s worthless to you now, runt! You know what you must do.

Luke’s hand found his hair, and the teenager clawed at it with all his strength, tearing several chunks violently outwards, and a choked sob of agonized mental pain leaving him as he practically grovelled into the earth. He just then recognized his aching, twitching muscle pains were beginning to turn, from vague flicks in his skin, to a contorting mess of muscles exceeding their regular size. A coat of thick hair was crawling up both arms like a fungus.

Give into the hunt. It is all you know now.

Another man, standing just a few yards from Layton, suddenly stepped forwards with a sneer. His disgusting scent of disdain and greed was like poison in Luke’s nostrils. As the older man stepped into the moonlight glistening in the rainy sky, a contorted snarl, barely audible yet not at all human, involuntarily left Luke’s mouth. His teeth were in absolute agony, and there was something wrong with his jaw…

“I can do whatever I wish, Layton.” Hawks scoffed, seeming to parade himself with his assured superiority in front of the hopeless citizens of the town, his own hitmen… everyone gathered. “By order of the British Parliament treasury, this American town is now my executive property. We will uncover the secrets here, and contain them, by all means necessary. That means the people of this accursed town,” he gestured to the people, all whom in another life, another world, Luke had lived among in some way, “are now under arrest. We will take any medical examination needed to uproot this curse… including your apprentice.”

The townsfolk began to cluster together as a few men, armed to the teeth began herding them into a knot… like sheep. With just a single gesture of Hawks’ hand.

Layton opened his mouth to speak, but from behind him, a woman in a yellow shirt was flailing and jerking against the might of three men holding her down into the mud. Clearly, the task of detaining her was proving laborious. The woman was fierce, and her scent showed a passionate protective aura. Luke would have recognized her… but not now. Now, he watched the scene while his body contorted and changed, the pain so great, yet so familiar, it was dulling in his mind that was slipping with every millisecond.

“You FUCKING coward!” The woman howled, her voice high-pitched with rage, “You’re a piece of SHIT! DO something, Chelmey!”

A broad-shouldered man standing beside Layton looked at the woman with eyes that were wide, ashamed, and panicked. His scent was riddled with confliction. Luke knew that in his humanity, he knew this man. He was a friend, he was a man of authority… but he was bound by the evil man’s toxic authority.

“Emmy,” Layton rasped, holding up a hand to her. “It’s alright.”

Emmy snarled at him, “HOW could you SAY THAT? This clowny fuck is going to torture all these innocent people! You know that, Professor! YOU know that, Chelmey! I--” Before the woman could finish, a man took a baton and shoved her into the mud face-first. Luke tensed up on his haunches as a sense of rage gripped him. Her body wracked against the hitman who had hit her, before she abruptly surged upwards from the mud, knocking him in the face with the back of her head and muddy brown hair. He staggered backwards.

Emmy looked at Layton once more, and her voice was uncharacteristically thick, eyes glistened, as she cried, “Think of Luke, Professor! They’re going to kill him!”

Layton looked at her, genuine pain on his face. His body was trembling, and his fear scent was all over Luke’s nostrils. Luke’s body tensed upwards once more, and a snarl left him. He was prepared. He was ready to hunt… he knew his targets.

Wait for your weakness to melt away. The canid voice rumbled, and then, leap into the flock, and claim those you wish to hunt.

Another terrifying clap of thunder struck the sky, and Luke’s muscles seized. He bared something that were very clearly not omnivorous teeth. His mouth, which no longer felt attached to his face, was salivating onto the mud. He felt a presence on his tailbone, and a ragged, matty tail that had previously not existed curled around his contorting form. The blood from his torn skin and ligaments were staining and splattering onto the clothes that had been rendered from his body, which no longer had an inch of bare skin left. The pain was familiar. The blood loss could not kill him. It was all apart of him, now. It was his gift.

Hawks then smiled at Layton, showing pearly, flat teeth, “Your assistant is delusional in her anger. I only wish to care for these diseased people. The ferry is ready to detain the citizens here, and bring them to our medical examiners. Chelmey, is Scotland Yard ready for their escort?” The man’s eyes landed expectantly on the face of the police inspector.

Chelmey hung his head. “I-I… Yes…”

“Coward!” The woman, Emmy, spat out a chunk of blood as she spoke. Her eyes were trained back on her boss, the top-hat man, “Professor! HERSHEL!”

Layton was breathing a bit laboriously. “Prime Minister, please…” He murmured, taking a step forwards, “let me find a solution. Give me a few more days... I--” the man suddenly narrowed his brown eyes, “if you do this, you will not get away with it like you have…” his voice broke, “previously.”

Hawks smiled broadly at Layton. “It worked before, Professor.” He sneered, his voice nearly a taunting whisper, “who is to say it won’t work now?”

“I’m not giving up on these people,” Layton breathed, adjusting his hat. “They are innocent. If you take them away now, I’ll-”

“Right.” Hawks chuckled, “You’ll go and play detective, and then when I drop your apprentice’s wolfy corpse at your doorstep, we’ll be just a step away to stick a bullet in your brain before you even get a chance to recognize who he is.”

Luke knew what was happening, his mind was screaming to leap, to sink his teeth inward, begin the hunt, but his brain was still fighting with the savagery of a thousand wolf packs, begging him to come back to humanity. It was in vain. Luke felt himself beginning to lose it. The moon was glistening onto his pelt, soaked with sweat, and as his muscles continued to tear through and spike upwards into large shoulder-blades, legs and arms abled for leaping and running. his trembling hands found the door to the car he hid behind, and his fingernails, now twisted and sharp into ivory claws with a size beyond belief, dug into the metal, nearly puncturing it right though.

A few more heartbeats, the voice in his head growled, and then, you must claim your prey.

Luke dropped onto his haunches, and then stood up on all fours, his tail swaying from behind him, maw parting and salivating, anticipating flesh. The spiked mane of fur upon his spine spiked upwards. His mind was a blank, void of humanity, and as the moon shone on his silver pelt, his amber eyes were fixed upon nothing but that man… That man paraded himself as if a mortal god, the fates of the people in his hands.

But to Luke, to his pack, he was prey, just another hunk of flesh to drag to the den, drop to the pile, and to feed his packmates for moons. A hungry snarl left his mouth, and he hooked his giant paws upon the vehicle’s roof, raising up to his hind legs, glowing amber eyes peering beyond.

A man that stood to Hawks’ side turned his head towards the vehicle, sensing a presence… a snarl in the night. He was nothing without his gun, without his master’s orders, and his fear scent was delicious. He was a lackey of his main prey. A weaker elk to pick off.

His eyesight, bordered with a vignette of reddened bloodlust, took just a few more heartbeats to render the scene before him.

Upon hearing Hawks’ remark, Chelmey tensed, visibly appalled. Layton’s scent suddenly took a tang of anger, mournful anger.

“Don’t speak to me like that.” Layton said, voice thick, “Don’t you dare threaten me again, Bill.”

Hawks took a single step towards Layton, and from his belt, he took out a shiny, twenty-two caliber pistol. “Scared of death all of a sudden, are we?” The prime minister laughed, “I don’t see why.” He took another step, until he was just inches from Layton. He held the gun up to the man’s head. “After all, the faster you leave this world, the faster you get to see that dirty bitch Claire.”

The gun gave a click, a noise so insignificant, but to Luke, it was as loud as a nuclear bomb scoring into the Earth’s surface. Chelmey leapt forwards to defend the Professor…

But Luke was simply faster.

NOW! The hunt begins!

A terrifying, ear-splitting howl struck the air, and Hawks’ arm seized, finger trembling on the trigger that had not been pressured through. Fear struck him still, and before anyone could register the direction of the howl, a wolfish beast with silver fur and sharp amber eyes leapt from the vehicle, directly over it, and pounded with the speed of a cheetah towards the crowd, the wet grass and mud flying all about his long, matted fur, roaring and snarling all the way.

“LYCAN!” A man screamed, dropping his gun with panic. Hawks’ hitmen, his lesser elk, staggered away from him, but the silver beast had eyes on the first one to pick off. The lycan leapt forwards, and with a single swipe of his paws, his claws caught the man’s throat. Before the man could even scream, a sickening crack split the air, following by a stream of projectiling blood. The man’s body crumpled onto his discarded gun, his head and neck angled backwards. He was dead from the trauma before he could even move, before he even hit the ground. Screams began splitting the air, and the crowd gathered scattered.

The silver lycan landed upon the man’s corpse, and rapidly sank his fangs into the dead man’s arm, and twisted it, effortlessly tearing the ligaments and bones from their sockets, freeing the arm from its weak human restraints. He wouldn’t need it anymore. The wolf sank his teeth deep into the detached arm, allowing the blood to run through his incisors. The first blood… it was not his primarily meal, but it was a way to alight his power for the hunt. His jaw-strength easily snapped the limb in half like a piece of wood.

“Kill it!” Hawks’ voice cried over the crowd, his newfound fear scent intoxicatingly welcoming, “KILL IT!”

The lycan suddenly felt a pain score his pelt, near his shoulder and back. A twisted, surprised yelp left him, and the impact caused him to stumble on all fours, narrowly stabilizing himself before falling over.

“NO!” Layton borderline screamed over the crowd, the unnaturally panicked voice seizing the small piece remaining of Luke, “DON’T SHOOT!”

The beast shook his pelt. Human bullets, unless silver, could not easily harm a pelt as durable as one of a lycan, even one of his meager size. And none of these foolish prey had been expecting him, had they? Their interference only fueled him, and he stood on his hind legs and gave a roar of rage. He then pounded forwards. No more games… the main event had to begin, the main prey had to fall… or the hunt would become complicated. With the leader gone, the lesser prey will scatter in panic. That was the rule of the hunt.

Hawks was scrambling to find a vehicle to escape in, screaming at his henchmen to aid him. Layton seemed to be running in the direction of the lycan, which momentarily confused the beast. Did this creature wish to become prey? Had he a death sentence? The lycan licked his bloodied maw, and with a swift leap, he slammed his paws into the chest of the top-hat man. They fell to the ground together, with the beast pinning the human down, sniffing him all over with his leathery nose. He did not smell like prey… but he acted as if he was trying to be killed by the beast. It was all very confusing, prey was prey, those the lycans knew to hunt… and those the lycans had no reason to hunt. The lycan snarled into the human’s face, an instinctual warning to stay away, or risk being labeled as a threat, or prey itself. The man was unaffected by the threatening growl, though he trembled as he sprawled upon the ground, the top hat discarded in the mud a few feet away. The hair on his head was recognizable, and the lycan’s tail lashed uncomfortably.

He shifted his paws, giving the human a chance to flee. Instead, he was reaching forwards with a trembling hand, and put it on the muzzle of the lycan. His amber eyes blinked in confusion, and gave another, more vicious snarl. He shoved his muzzle to the side, but the human just began running his trembling hand into his matted fur.

“Luke,” the man managed, his voice a gasping, pathetic whimper. His voice was familiar, but the tone… the tone was foreign. The scent of mourning, and pain, and loss, was foreign. The beast found himself simply entranced by it all.

“Luke,” the man repeated, placing his hand once again on the lycan’s maw, stroking his fur in spite of the sheer amount of blood, “can you hear me?”

The lycan twitched his ears, his eyes dulling. His muscles suddenly felt weaker than they had before, and a twitch overtook him. He felt relaxed, he felt calm… tranquil, almost. The lycan panted, and began sniffing the human’s face, and gave him a cautious lick on the chin. His tail involuntarily wagged, in spite of the former desire for the hunt that overtook him. He was suddenly overcome with euphoria… in the midst of scattering prey… he had found a packmate. A friend, a teacher, a father of sorts. But he did not smell like lycan, or packmate, or family… and a human? The thoughts stirring in his brain were overwhelming, but a conscious, innocently humane thought was crawling into his brain.

I know you. I know you. I know you! Hello, hello!

While looking relieved to see the wolf relax, the immediate panicked scent fading, the human did not look any less sorrowful. He took the silver lycan’s face in his trembling hands, and looked directly into his amber eyes. Normally, this would be a threat to a lycan’s authority, punishable by a ripped throat, but he was enthralled in the human’s chocolate gaze.

“Stop this.” The man breathed, his voice breaking and trembling, “come back to me, Luke. Stop this, please…”

The lycan twitched his ears, and gave another sniff of the human’s face. He did not understand. Stop what? The hunt? He couldn't! Did packmates not crave the hunt as much as any other lycan? Why stop? Was this a retreat? Was this man the Alpha? But he did not smell anything like Alpha! Alpha had disappeared, even! What was going on? The lycan gave the human a more submissive lick on the chin, beginning to lay down on the human’s chest, and giving a thin whimper.

I know you, but I don’t understand. What’s going on? Help me, help me! I’m scared.

Before neither man nor wolf could respond to each other, the lycan felt a searing pain in his chest. A shocked how of agony left him, and he staggered backwards. His chest, his fur, and his blood, it all began boiling with searing pain. His vision blurred with both agony, and a newfound rage. It was silver! A silver bullet! Who dared attack them like this? Rage overtook the lycan’s passive thoughts, but a whimper of pain left him. It hurt, and the blood was pouring, burning… the world was getting dark, suddenly.

“NO!” Layton wailed, and threw himself at the lycan. The human threw his arms around the lycan’s runty body, bracing the wolf with his own body, which embarrassingly enough, was almost as large as his own.

The lycan snarled in pain, but his eyes softened as he looked at his packmate, who was putting pressure on the wound the silver bullet left with his human hands. He felt humbled that this… human packmate alpha creature would defend him in the midst of a hunt. Any other lycan would’ve left him to die. The hunt waits for no one, after all. He whimpered, pushing at the human with his muzzle.

Run away! We are being attacked! I live and die by the hunt, but you are human!

There was a sudden presence in the grass, the sound of a heavy footfall, and a familiar scent caught the lycan’s nostrils. The instincts of the hunt seized him once again, and his soft eyes went harder than sleets of ice. A terrifying, bloody snarl gurgled in his throat, and the man turned, but was still shielding the wolf’s body with his own. Hawks stepped into the moonlit clearing of grass, sided by two hechmen stupid enough to have not fled in a chaos.

“Ah,” Bill Hawks purred, “so this is Luke. Finally show your ugly maw, Triton boy?”

The lycan snarled, and his hackles rose, large tufted ears pinning back threateningly.

“It’s him.” Layton rasped, his voice broken, “it’s him. I’ve been protecting him. I-I told him to flee town. I told him, Bill. I told you not to come here, too. I-I knew he wouldn’t listen. I-I…”

“Listen to yourself, Hershel.” Bill chuckled. “Pathetic. Losing Claire for a second time has turned you into a total wreck, a pile of spinless waste. I mean to eliminate this awful town, these cursed people… and find the truth of the disease. How to control it… for the good of the Parliament, the world.” His gun, filled with silver bullets, twirled in his hands.

“And you, once an affable man, now groveling in front of a savage dog, whom he swears up and down is his sweet little apprentice. Do you ever learn to let go of lost causes? These people are savages, and their death will bring us all peace. How many times do I have to try to kill you for the greater good?”

“The greater good?” A humorless, broken laugh left Layton, “is that what you call it? I’m not a fool, Bill. You don’t seek to help these people. You seek to use Lycanthropy as a weapon. Fear-mongering, elimination of those you hate, mass-hysteria… it is ALL you’ve EVER achieved. You are no leader. You’re a man who spreads terror, and grief wherever he walks. The death of others, tearing apart families, it is just a small obstacle in your poisonous dream.”

Hawks gave a careless shrug, and stepped closer to Layton and the silver lycan. He chuckled, “I pity you, Layton. If you had just agreed to work with me when we both arrived, this wouldn’t have happened. I would’ve been much more peaceful… I would’ve even given the courtesy of mailing you Luke’s pelt in the mail, give you and your friends something to bury,” he smiled, “maybe put on your office floor.”

Layton hung his head, and gave a shuddering sigh. He backed further into Luke’s lycan body, shielding him entirely. “You’re a monster. A truly evil man, Mr. Hawks. If I pay for your cruelty with my life, then I will pay.”

Hawks smiled, a toothy nasty grin, and gave a coarse laugh. “The hapless Professor makes his first sane decision! Now… close your eyes, let me see if I can get you and the dog in one bullet.”

Hawks held the gun upwards, and it made a second click, the sound splitting the air. Before the gun could fire, Layton suddenly sprang forwards, his fist meeting Hawks’ face. The man gave a startled cry, and rolled into the mud on his back, struggling to find his feet like a flipped turtle. Layton then used the blunt end of his elbow to hit both henchmen on the face, and then swung them both into the mud with a swift punch to the gut.   

He then whirled around, and fell to the mud on his knees, then threw his arms around the lycan’s neck, who lay on the ground now, bleeding profusely, panting, yet looking at the human, his amber eyes glowing with amazement, and remembrance. Layton pulled the wolf’s head into his lap, and looked him in the eyes once again.

“Live for me, Luke,” he choked, his eyes looking liquified with tears, “You must live for me, my boy. Run and find Desmond. Find him, he’ll help return you to your own body. Then you go back to London, alright? Find my office, find Flora and Emmy, solve this for me. Bring these people a cure, and stop this man…”

The lycan looked at the human in total bewilderment. His shaking hands let go of Luke’s bloody fur, and he stood up, tears running down his face. His fear scent was decreasing… replaced by regret, and sorrow… and anticipation.

“Be good. Live well. I’m proud of you, my boy.” He swiped his sleeve across his face, wiping away tears. “Be the greatest gentleman the world has ever seen, alright?”

The lycan gave a broken whimper, the thoughts and memories overwhelming him. He pushed himself up through the pain, on all fours, and stared at the human, eyes wide, the amber fading to a shade of hazy blue.

Professor?

 “DIE, LAYTON!” Hawks bellowed, dragging himself out of the mud, holding his broken, bloody nose. His eyes were alight with rage. He threw the gun upwards in his hands, “DIE, GODDAMMIT!”

Layton faced him head-on, and looked at Luke one more time.

“Go, Luke!”

Luke blinked at the Professor, stunned. Another whine left him, and his tail wagged feebly.

I can’t. You’re my mentor. You’re the only father I have now. If we die, we die together.

Layton squeezed his eyes shut, and then looked pleadingly at his lycan apprentice. “LUKE!”

Luke turned his wolfish blue eyes upon the prime minister. The man was seconds away from firing the trigger, and then… the bullet would not misfire. It would land in the Professor’s cranium, killing him… Luke had every opportunity to run, to flee, but…

A hollow, snarling voice suddenly reappeared in the depths of his brain, and his instincts reawakened almost instantly,

Be the hunter, or you are the prey.

The hunt was not over. All fights, all disputes, end when the hunt ends. When a wolf claims his kill, it is his by right. No other wolf nor human would take his kill. Wolves kill to survive. Wolves kill to protect their pack. Wolves kill, because they must.

With that in mind, a snarl ripped through Luke’s throat, and before the Professor could even react, his lycan apprentice threw himself in a savage leap over his mentor. The silver bullet struck him head-on, once again in the chest, but the rage, the power of the hunt was enough to not stop him from lunging forwards, in spite of the two deadly wounds upon his chest.

Layton screamed his name, but the desire of the hunt’s conclusion drowned out his wail of protest. The lycan’s claws tore into Hawks’ sides, instantly piercing his ribcage. The prime minister gave a gurgling cry, a surge of sticky blood spewing from his lips as the lycan tossed him to the ground, his impaled body flying from the lycan’s giant claws. He then turned on the two henchmen as they struggled to rise. He tore their throats out with one swift bite, and for the other, a slash of his hind claws. He gave a triumphant howl as their corpses fell, and then he leapt onto Hawks’ exposed belly. He was a large human… a piece of prey with much to feed his packmates with! The silver hycan gave another triumphant, howling cry, to signify he was about to end the hunt.

With that, the silver, bloodied lycan surged his claws forwards, and ripped Hawks from the neck down to the waist, tearing his stomach into a neat split, blood pouring out like a raging river, intestines flopping wetly onto the muddy grass. Hawks’ body gave a dreadful, gurgling gasp, before his head dropped to the floor, and his eyes grew empty and still. No more breathing, no more of the panicked scent… only blood and gore staining his pelt.

He was well, and truly dead.

The hunt is forever. We are the Lycan people!

The lycan’s amber eyes fixed wildly on the human, his packmate, that was on his knees, sobbing in utter defeat at the horrific scene before him. Behind them, the lycan could hear yells, screams of terror.

In spite of his pain, his wounds, and the exhaustion of his body being in such a strainful position of lycan form, the beast stood up on his hind legs and gave a victorious howl.

Do not despair! I won! I won for you all! This is who I am! I am the alpha! I won!

The lycan’s delusional thoughts of grandeur suddenly dramatically spiked downwards as a wave of nausea seized him. He staggered backwards onto his haunches. Layton got up from his knees, and rushed to the lycan, gripping him, almost slipping on the former prime minister’s dreadful blood splatters, and began holding the wolf steady.

“It’s about to be over,” Layton choked, trembling as he held the wolf tightly in a restraining position, “it’s almost over, Luke. The moon is gone.”

The beasts’ brain was too sickly nauseated, his mind too muddled, to show aggression any longer. He felt his body began to contort and retract, searing muscle pain gripping him once more as his amplified body regressed. Waves of exhaustion overtook him, and he gave a twisted moan of immense pain as his mouth seemed to shove inward. His body wracked and flinched, yet the Professor held him close, letting the blood of the transformation drip into his trench-coat, keeping him steady during the regression. The fur on the beasts’ body began to dramatically shed, falling onto the grass in droves, and his wolfish orb eyes faded away to the familiar, glazed pupils of a human. His reddened skin paled over, only a few patches of undetached fur remaining, which Layton gently brushed from his skin.

The lycan gave one more terrifying twitch, until he was lycan no more. His mind was a blank, exhaustion overtaken him, and darkness consuming him before he could even register his humanity returning.

And with that, Luke collapsed into his mentor’s arms, completely unconscious, and the people ran to them, the police lights and cars blazing sirens in the air. Layton gently held his human apprentice to his chest, awaiting whatever came next for them both.

Beside them, Hawks’ bloodied corpse was glistening in the fading moonlight.

[justanalto]

71. “I want a pet.”

(did you know I was incapable of writing drabbles? yikes) I hope you like it! Thank you for the prompt, love!

challenge me with a drabble!

Fitz had seen a lot of impossible situations in his life.

He'd seen his best friend plummet to what he thought would be her death, he'd seen men emerge from an alien temple possessed by who-the-devil-knew-what. People had died and come back to life right under his nose. Machines had become sentient and had somehow managed to construct an alternate universe (not to mention trapping him in it). He'd even travelled to the future and witnessed a world where blue aliens ruled with an iron fist and lemons were how you expressed affection. One would think that he would've been able to handle any situation the world threw at him by now.

Then again, the world did seem to have a knack for knocking him on his arse when he least expected it.

"Oh, look at this one, Fitz! It's got the fluffiest tail!"

"Daddy, it licked my hand! Can we have him?"

"Lily, we've told you, you're not to get one that's larger than your father's drones," Fitz tore his gaze away from where he'd been longingly gazing at the more...exotic pets and over to where the domestic ones where. At the sight of his wife and five-year-old daughter fawning over the stool-sized puppies in the cages, the corners of his lips threatened to turn up at the edges and split into a full smile.

He remembered back in the Academy days -- hell, even during their early days on the Bus -- when he'd dream about this sort of life; the kind where he, Jemma and some unnamed child (he'd always hoped for a girl. Not that he'd ever told her this) would be out on the town, shopping for something impossible or other. The dream had always been curbed before it got too far: it wasn't proper to daydream about a woman you surely wouldn't be able to have.

What a naive fool he'd been. Ten years (and at least five handfuls of life-threatening situations later), not only had he gotten the girl, but he'd also gotten the daughter. The thing, though, was that in his dreams, their little imaginary family always adopted a monkey. Perhaps a little capuchin, or a pygmy marmoset -- their SHIELD salaries had set them up quite well, after all -- but never, not even in his wildest dreams, had he expected this to happen.

Lily Margaret FitzSimmons (Jemma had absolutely insisted on naming their daughter in some way after the famed founder) was currently seated criss-cross on the floor of a playpen, her magenta-colored woolen jumper absorbing glob after glob of dog drool as she played with a small pug.

She hadn't even looked at the monkeys when she'd walked in, making a straight beeline for the puppies. Jemma'd had to reign in her laughter for a solid five minutes at the look of shock and disappointment on her husband's face.

Personally, Fitz didn't quite understand why she was so fond of pugs. Labs he could understand. Great Danes and Greyhounds were useful racing dogs. Even corgis provided their own form of entertainment, if only when they shook their butts. All pugs did were walk around like someone had permanently offended all of their kin. God, he hoped Lily wouldn't decide on a pug. He still couldn't believe they weren't adopting a monkey.

"You know, when she said to us, 'I want a pet', I was thinking we could start small," he murmured to Jemma, who was filming the whole spectacle on her phone. "Goldfish, maybe. Or a hermit crab. Maybe we could've even got her sea monkeys --"

"They can hardly be called monkeys, Fitz, you of all people should know --"

"That they're just brine shrimp, yes, Jemma, I know." Both of them watched as the pug nearly bowled Lily over in its excitement. "But just for a puppy? Seems like a large leap. And a pug, too."

"I know." Jemma's nose crinkled in slight disgust. "I'm really hoping she picks the Coton. Daisy wouldn't stop harping about how she and Robbie have got that stupid Peekapoo. What kind of sane couple names their dog Coulson?"

"Apparently, you thought it was a great idea at the time. And that's rich, coming from the woman who chose her daughter's middle name to be for the founding woman of SHIELD." To be fair, Coulson had been over the moon upon finding out about Daisy and Robbie's canine christening -- so much, in fact, that the FitzSimmons family liked to play a game with their dog furniture to determine if the Reyes-Johnsons had bought it or Coulson had.

"I suppose it is," Jemma answered with a small smile. "But making her middle name Barbara was a little too old-fashioned for me." A series of excited yips caught their attention. Lily had been knocked back fully by the pug and was now being licked from head to toe, all while shrieking happily. Both parents exchanged a look of dread.

"We're getting this pug, aren't we?"

One interview, three stamps and a load of paperwork that would've even made May flinch later, the excitable pug was penned, the adoption certificate signed, and the family in the car ride home. Lily was chowing down on a strawberry shortcake pop Jemma had gotten her from the ice cream truck close by, while Fitz seemed to be devouring a Klondike bar and a rocket popsicle simultaneously.

"I gots a pet!" Lily's ice cream would've been fed to the car seats had it not been for the sheer forces of friction (Fitz made a note to say his prayers to Guillaume Amontons later that friction had kept the bar on the stick). "I gots a puppo!" She peered over at the cage once more, buckled in haphazardly in the seat across from her. "And puppo loves me!"

This was what Fitz was going to have to endure for the next thirteen years? Was there a way he could have May run over him in a Quinjet and make it look like an accident? Bobbi and Hunter had been experts at covering their tracks. Surely they knew how to get themselves lost if they needed to. "He looks like he loves you a lot, sunshine." The pug chose that exact moment to yip and jump around in its cage, rattling it enough that Jemma seriously considered pulling over and moving it to the trunk.

"Now that we've got him, have you thought about a name, Lily?" Her mother's question silenced Lily for a few minutes, and Fitz mentally thanked whoever was up there for the blessed lack of sound. "Remember, a name is very important. It'll stick with him for the rest of his life."

"Hmmmm...."

Fitz's thoughts went out to Piper, Elena, Phil, May and Daisy the pet rocks. May they rest in peace, wherever they'd gone. Maybe he and Jemma had made the right decision capitulating towards Lily's demand. After all, a dog was significantly harder to lose in your life than a pet rock, no matter how many times you brought one to school.

(Not that Lily was bringing a dog to school. A pug, no less.)

"Can I name him after you, mum?"

At that, Jemma almost did pull over; as it was, she nearly ran a red light in shock. "After me?" she asked once the traffic hubbub had settled down. "Why would you want to name him after me? You've got a boy pug there, silly!"

"But boys can have girl's names, too," Fitz chuckled. At least now he knew what Elena was teaching his daughter when she came over to babysit. "Aunt Elena said so. She said so for forever until Uncle Mack bribed her with food."

"Your Aunt Elena is right," Jemma answered slowly, not wanting to mince her words. "But I do think that naming him after me would also be a bit confusing, no?" Lily took her time with that, hemming and hawing over the decision. "What if you call 'Jemma!' and two of us come running? That would be funny!"

"But I call you mum."

"You might not so much when you're older," Fitz jumped in, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Jemma silently sigh with relief. "What about if you named him after your uncle Robbie? Or, uh, that cartoon you love so much? Bumble? Looks the bumbling type to me, even though he's not a bee."

"How about Uncle Mack?" Lily handed her father the empty ice cream stick, and Fitz threw into their trash can up front. "I didn't name anything after him!"

"Alphonso?" Jemma murmured under her breath. Fitz had to shoot her a look to keep from laughing out loud. "Of course you can name him after your uncle, sweetheart," she called back instead. "In fact, why don't we give him a call? I'm sure he'd be delighted to hear about the fact that we're naming their first dog after him."

Mack was, in fact, delighted to hear about the namesake, and spent the rest of the car ride home crowing to Jemma, Fitz, and Elena about how he was the second member of the team to have something named after him. Elena spent twenty minutes after that muttering darkly over the phone to Jemma about how they'd better name a second pet after her, or "Turtleman will be insufferable, and I'll make sure he brings it up to you at every weekly reunion dinner."

But judging by the way the Mack the pug had vanished as soon as Lily had let him out, Fitz had a feeling Jemma wouldn't agree to any somewhat large pets anytime soon.

[jkottke]

Kottke.org's Best of 2018, Parts 1 and 2

Subscribers to Noticing, the Kottke.org newsletter, have already seen our two-part Best of 2018 series, published on Thursday the 20th and Friday the 21st. We decided to split the best-of into two parts, with the first letter, the A-Sides, focusing on the 50 most popular posts of the year, and the second, the B-Sides, collecting our personal favorites.

For the B-Sides, Jason and I each submitted lists of posts we wanted to include, and after discarding redundancies, it turned out that the number of "favorite" posts was an even 100. I'd expected to write up about fifty, which was the number of the first newsletter. But that century mark felt like a sign, and a challenge I wanted to meet. So, fuck it; we wrote up the full 100.

Here's an excerpt from the first newsletter:

Mapping cities, the planet, the stars

A number of the year's best posts, as always, featured maps. A literal world map stars countries with the literal translations of their names. A map of the world after four degrees of warming is sobering, if not outright depressing. (Spoiler: most of the places where lots of people live will become hostile to the point of unliveable.) A map of the world where the sizes of countries is determined by their population has a similar "whoa!" effect, making you rethink the distribution of the planet. But maybe nothing is more "whoa!" than a timeline map of the 200,000 year history of human civilization, starting with migrations out of sub-Saharan Africa and following human travel and development through to the present. We've reached the point in our development where we don't necessarily need cartography to map our surroundings; photography will do the job. Even in 1920, photographers were able to capture stunning aerial photographs like cities, like these snaps of Edinburgh. These days, you can take aerial panoramas from 20,000 feet using as something as ubiquitous as an iPhone. Or use a fractal lens to take pictures of Tokyo, bending yourself into the future from that great contemporary city. We now know what high-resolution photos of the Earth taken from the surface of the moon look like. We know how our seemingly geometric road grids subtly correct themselves for the curvature of the Earth's surface. And we can even photograph black holes -- or rather, watch stars in orbit around black holes, using a twenty-year time lapse. (Twenty years? Huh.)

That "twenty years" bit is a callback, as Kottke.org turned 20 this year.

And here is an excerpt from the B-Sides issue, which is, let's just say, more dense:

The Year In Inspiration

Consider the fable of the dragon-tyrant. Literally, it's about the possibility of extending the human lifespan and human flourishing, instead of sacrificing the young and old alike to the tyranny of death. But allegorically, as Jason writes, "humanity has lots of dragons sitting on mountaintops, devouring people, waiting for a change in the world's perspective or technology or culture to meet its doom." Consider, too, the calmness of airline pilots. In the midst of disaster, good pilots actually get calmer, and this helps them solve their problems. Do you need to get yourself out of a funk? Or console or otherwise help a grieving friend? Think about what Augustine says about hope: hope stretches us out across time. It makes our hearts bigger in order to contain it. And all our secular hopes help to prepare us for the great hope to come, that all might be redeemed and made perfect, and we can find our true place in the cosmos. Think about Dean Allen, one of the kindest and most talented people in the tech universe, and whether or not he's found the peace that eluded him -- that eludes us all -- on Earth. We are, all of us, explorers and hermits, both searching for adventure and longing for routine. This is why, despite it all, it is some small comfort to know that humans right now are better at Tetris than they have ever been. And that if we decide to move to Los Angeles, we'll have to solve a lot of problems with ourselves first: "How do you help care for the city that drew you in, rather than allow your presence to steamroll its culture?" And, to generalize: how can we care for 2019, as we're drawn inexorably into its vortex, rather than allow it to steamroll us all?

It's been a great year. I've loved writing this newsletter, and being able to chime in with my Friday posts and occasional guest weeks. (Guest editor Chrysanthe Tenentes put up some great posts this year as well.) Cheers to Jason for continuing to host the best blog in the universe. Here's to more and better in 2019. Here's to blogs making their inevitable comeback. Here's to another twenty years.

[adins-bejoty]

Star Wars: The Last Jedi

Before we begin let me shock everyone reading this by proclaiming that there will be spoilers. Do we really need to keep doing this? It's 2017, it's the internet. There's always going to be spoilers. Anyway, this is a long post (surprise!) and mostly about Luke, but there's other stuff down at the bottom. First, however, please set your opinions and emotions aside for a moment and let us give thanks for the one unimpeachable truth that all Star Wars fans should be able to unanimously agree on: This is a badass fucking land speeder.

So, I love Star Wars. I've read (listened to Audible on my daily 3-hour commute) about a dozen of the new canon books, I've read all the new comics, and I've seen every episode of The Clone Wars and Rebels multiple times. Yes I've had some issues with creative decisions, yes I'm kind of bummed that the old EU is now "Legends" and that my absolute favorite Star Wars content (Knights of the Old Republic, huge suprise I know...) is currently non-canon, but overall I've been 100% on board with the direction everything has been going.

My premiere showing of The Force Awakens is one of my all-time favorite movie-going memories. The first showing on opening night with fans in costume, lines wrapping around the block, and a highly reactive audience made for an amazing experience. The manager of the theater even came out and gave a little speech about how important Star Wars is to people before the lights went down. Then we were in it, no trailers, and the audience went wild as soon as that John Williams fanfare erupted. People don't cheer at the Marvel logo when it appears. Hell, I don't remember people cheering for the Enterprise in any of JJ Abrams' Trek movies, but one shot of the Millennium Falcon brings grown men to tears. And fucking BB-8 is the best. Can droids win best supporting actor awards?

I saw The Last Jedi at the Carnegie Science Center in Pittsburgh last Friday, so I was a day behind opening night. My audience was a little more subdued, possibly because some of them were already on their second showing, but we had the same cheers at the opening crawl and applause at the end so the experience was similar, but it will never be the same. And in general I think that's part of the message that this movie is trying to send: whatever your memories and emotions surrounding this franchise are, it can never be exactly the same as that one moment that made you a true fan. And that's okay, because the same isn't always the best.

And now spoilers...

But first! How about the backlash to this thing? It seems like there is an even split between people who really like this movie, and those who really hate it. I've yet to see a convincing argument as to why this film is as terrible as people claim, though. Just a lot of "it sucks" without much substance. A lot of the vitriol seems aimed at the perceived lack of payoff to some of the "mysteries" introduced by the last film including Snoke's backstory, Rey's origins, the Knights of Ren, and Luke's reason for exile. I've also seen quite a few claims that this movie does unspeakable, everlasting damage to the character of Luke Skywalker. (I don't agree, see below.) My absolute favorite reactions to read are from the people who bemoan the ruination of their childhood based on Luke's actions in this movie. As if years or decades of human social and behavioral development can be undone in an instant because a fictional character did a fictional thing or said fictional words that they didn't like.

Allow me to quote my thoughts on this subject from my recap of Sailor Moon Crystal:

Even more so is the utterly baffling prevalence of the notion of Crystal somehow “ruining” Sailor Moon for you? ... It cannot by virtue of its existence invalidate your affection for any other version of the story.

Slightly different circumstance, but the central thesis is the same: how does one thing totally destroy your enjoyment of another thing? You have the ability to ignore the thing you don't like. Stick with Legends, or if you never got into the old EU, just watch the original six films. Or just the original trilogy. Or just Empire Strikes Back since Star Wars content can never ascend beyond that lofty realm... Star wars isn't the sort of franchise where one big (perceived) fuck-up is going to drive away half of the fandom. I guarantee 98% of the internet pundits proclaiming that they're done with Disney and Star Wars forever will be back on opening day for Episode 9. We survived the Holiday Special, we survived midi-chlorians, hell we survived a whole rather poorly received prequel trilogy. We can survive one more bad movie.

Except this isn't a bad movie. It's a great movie in which bad things happen to good people. Kind of like real life! Now, I know there's an immediate rebuttal to be made there: I don't want movies to be like real life; I go to the movies to escape real life. True, but if we want our entertainment to be completely unrealistic, how can we derive anything more from them than simple escapism? People hold Star Wars as a source of inspiration in their childhood and have taken moral lessons from the series. Yes, most of the motivational posters would feature Yoda, but the simplest stuff comes from Luke: help your friends, look for the best in people, reject temptation, and aspire to greatness. Even a simple farm boy from Tatooine can become a great Jedi and save the galaxy. He is rightly every child's hero, including mine.

You want to know what I think about Luke dying? I fucking hate it. Luke Skywalker was a badass Jedi master who failed hard, but still had a lot of tread on the tires. I, like Mark Hamill,thought the scene in The Force Awakens where the Skywalker lightsaber is pulled past Kylo Ren's face was going to pan over to reveal the saber in Luke's hand, not Rey's. How fucking cool would that have been? In The Last Jedi I was expecting crusty, angry old hermit Luke to eventually realize "You know what, the galaxy really does need me for one last roundup" and fly off with Rey to face Snoke and Kylo together. How fucking cool would THAT have been? The two literal last Jedi going up against the two powerful not-Sith? So yeah, I hate that Luke is dead and that we won't get any grand master badassery like we saw in the EU, but OH MY FUCKING GOD I don't care because what we got was amazing and honestly the best possible way it could have happened. Did we as fans really want to see Luke Skywalker cut down by his nephew, or even worse by Snoke? Did we really want to see a possible turn to the Dark Side from the man who told the Emperor "Never!" and won by throwing his lightsaber away? No, we wanted Luke to survive the sequel trilogy and live forever happily training Jedi until the end of time because we want our heroes to have happy endings.

Except all heroes have to die sometime, and heroes, unfortunately, aren't perfect. That's what I can't wrap my head around when people say this movie was a character assassination of their childhood hero. Yes, Luke did heroic things, but he's still a flawed person who is often wrong. Becoming a hero doesn't mean your less desirable traits suddenly disappear. There are no perfect heroes, but we tend to deify all the good and forgive much of the bad. Luke has plenty of flaws: he's reckless and acts on emotion way too often. He's arrogant (see Return of the Jedi for all the proof you need) but thankfully nowhere near Anakin's level. He's fairly judgemental, especially in A New Hope. And while this isn't necessarily a flaw, he does whine a lot. It makes sense that in his old age the youthful whining has evolved into antisocial grouchiness. Also, remember that Star Wars is a space soap opera about a tragically fucked up family of drama queens who gratuitously overreact to their problems. A lot of Anakin's issues seem to have skipped over Luke straight to Kylo, but the big one that remains is his tendency to act on emotion first, and think later.

So the big bad moment in this movie has Luke at his Jedi temple suddenly feeling the dark side rising in Ben Solo. He stands over his nephew and sees the death and darkness he will unleash and for one split seconds he ignites the green lightsaber and thinks there's only one way to stop this. Then he immediately regrets it and feels (rightfully) ashamed. Unfortunately Ben wakes up, thinks he's about to be murdered and, predictably because he's part Skywalker, overreacts. Now, does Luke's action follow his character from the previous films as a guy who is prone to acting on instinct and emotion? Here are three big examples, one from each movie:

A New Hope - Sees Obi-Wan killed by Vader and immediately starts shooting at stormtroopers heedless of the danger around him.

Empire Strikes Back - Ignores Yoda's warning and jumps in an X-Wing to try and save his friends, losing a hand for his trouble.

Return of the Jedi - Completely loses control and starts wailing mercilessly on Vader after just mentioning Leia.

So yes, I do believe Luke could have a split-second moment where he considers a really bad decision but ultimately doesn't follow through. I don't understand why people think that throwing away his lightsaber and telling the Emperor he'll never turn to the dark side somehow means that Luke will also never make a bad decision or have a moment of inner conflict for the rest of his life. And to the bigger question of why Luke would just give up and go into exile after Kylo destroys the temple, well... everyone has a breaking point. Luke overcame huge hurdles and kept pushing himself and he blew up the Death Star, became a Jedi Knight, saved the galaxy, and redeemed his father. He was on his way to rebuilding the Jedi Order until that one bad decision (with outside influence from Snoke muddying the water) proved to be the last straw. It's sad to see a hero fail, but that's what makes them human and relatable. And since this is an ongoing saga,

you can have peaks and valleys of achievement and failure. For all his courage and heroic intent, Luke failed in Empire Strikes Back. He failed his training and he failed to save his friends. Then in Return of the Jedi he was the hero again, bringing Anakin back to the light. He rode that wave for almost 30 years until in a moment of conflict he failed again, but was then back in the heroic saddle by the end of this movie. It would have been unbearably tragic for Luke to die in disgrace with his last act being to turn his back on everything, but thankfully he and the audience had our cake and got to eat it too!

Luke straight up asks Rey what she though was going to happen, if he was going to face down the entire First Order with a (tee-hee) laser sword? That's the Luke we were expecting. It's the Luke I was expecting, anyway. What amazing things can Master Luke Skywalker do after 30 years immersed in studying the Force? Well, he can face down the entire First Order with a laser sword. He totally fucking does it, just not in the way we expected. I don't have a problem with the Force projection because it accomplishes so many things at once. We as an audience wanted to see Luke be a badass and he is, even if he's not bodily present. The Resistance needs to see Luke be the legend they've all heard about to restore a little bit of hope. Kylo Ren needs to see Luke to cement once and for all that he's not coming back to the light. And Luke needs to redeem himself after being cut off from the galaxy for so long by playing all of this as a distraction so Rey can rescue the remains of the Resistance.

And then Luke dies. We're made to believe it's because of the exertion of projecting himself across the galaxy, but I don't buy that shit for one minute. Obviously it was a strain on him, but after he turns off the projection and collapses he gets back up. I fully believe Luke could have fully recovered, but to what end? He's an old man now and for all the wonderful angsty frustration it's caused Kylo Ren, the Force projection is a one-trick pony. He can't pull that stunt a second time, so the only option is a direct confrontation which, as awesome as it would be, Luke would probably lose. He's made the symbolic sacrifice; there's no need for him to throw his life away on a no-win scenario. Much like Poe Dameron has to learn that being a suicide flyboy isn't the way to lead a resistance, Luke knows that falling on a lightsaber for no reason is no way to inspire a rebellion, or set an example for the next Jedi in line to carry on your legacy. To do that you project a badass immortal Jedi master to utterly humiliate your opponents while your allies escape. So Luke decides to let his legend live on and he goes out on his own terms, at peace, and having fulfilled his last noble purpose. For a farm boy who has lived through so much awful shit, it's really the best way for him to go.

Okay, enough about Luke. What about the rest of the movie? Bullet points FTW!

Loved everything with Poe Dameron. He's my favorite new character to come out of these sequels and if he's inheriting the Resistance from Leia, I'm all about General Poe doing some badass shit. "where's my droid?" The fact that he treats BB-8 like a beloved pet (and calls him "Buddy!") is so god damned endearing. Hopefully once he's dealt with the First Order he can go back to his old job as a champion for droid rights.

Leia was great in this although the Mary Poppins Force save in space was a little off. I get that the intention here is that she's reacting instinctively, like parents who get Hulk strong when their kids are trapped under a collapsed building, but I don't think we necessarily needed to see super-Leia flying through space. The hand motion, the eyes, maybe just a hint of movement would have been enough and we could have cut to the shocked faces of Poe & company before cutting to the airlock. I don't know how they're going to handle Leia's absence in Episode 9, but as a final appearance on film I'm happy with what we got.

Vice Admiral Holdo. While I have no real qualms with her function in this film and her lightspeed sacrifice was one of the greatest things I've ever seen with my own two eyeballs, I was kind of left unfulfilled by her character. That's probably because I read (Audible'd) the Princess of Alderaan book in which Holdo is introduced so I had expectations of what her character would be like going into the movie. Obviously she's several decades older than she was in the book so she would have evolved, but the younger Holdo was quirky and weird and has been described as similar to Luna Lovegood. She was fond of speaking in metaphor which Leia nicknamed "Holdo-speak" and I would've appreciated seeing at least one instance of that. But still, Laura Dern was great and I'm glad she did actually like Poe despite their head-butting.

Okay, one more thing about Luke: Nothing in this movie made me that emotional, but there was one moment that nearly wrecked me. Not "Where's Han?" or Luke and R2-D2 or Luke reuniting with Leia or even Luke dying with the majestic score and the binary sunset. No, it was C-3PO's delivery of the line "Master Luke..." and that fucking wink. Luke is (with the possible exception of Padme) the only character in the whole of Star Wars who doesn't lose his shit with Threepio. Even Leia tells him to shut up in this episode if memory serves. Luke was always calm and patient with him.

Yoda once again delivers some all-time great wisdom. "The greatest teacher, failure is." deserves to be up there with the rest of his sage advice. I've seen people complain about his "happy dance" after he blows up the Force Tree and... I don't understand why? Yoda has always been a giggly little muppet plus he's dead now, so what does he care if he lets his guard down and has some fun? I personally like the idea that one of the most powerful Jedi in history is a bit goofy and mischevious. "Lost a planet Master Obi-Wan has; how embarassing!"

Captain Phasma, oh how they continue to let you down. Her fight with Finn was great, but she literally just showed up for that one brawl. She had no presence in the film until that moment and the movie did nothing to develop her character beyond what it already was in The Force Awakens: a cool suit of armor. She got a novel and a comic book to build up her character and this is the best we could do? You know how much better TFA would have been if Finn fought Phasma on Takodana instead of the no-name stormtrooper? (His name is TR-8R. It just is.) Well, how much better would TLJ be if instead of having to escape Canto Bight police Finn and Rose have to escape Phasma, who has been dogging them the entire time? Then that last fight would have felt suitably epic. Also, she's not dead. Not if you don't see the body. RIGHT STANNIS?

Rose is a fun new character, fits the universe, and I like her. Not too much more to say. She has good chemistry with Finn and it'll be interesting to see what they do with her in the next film.

Rey being a nobody is perfect. Greatness from humble nothingness. I know Star Wars fans are conditioned to expect familial connections and for the movies to adhere to certain traditions (they rhyme!) but not everyone needs to have “that mighty Skywalker blood” to be a great Jedi. I really hope JJ doesn’t walk this one back. The only acceptable retcon would be if she were actually Han and Leia’s daughter, but at this point I don’t think you can make that work. Poor Jaina Rey.

One of the more common complaints I've seen of the movie is that the humor doesn't land as well as it should. To my memory the only humor that didn't really work with me was the first gag of Poe & Hux going back and forth like a bad phone call. It felt a little too goofy even though it's 100% in-character for Poe to be fucking around like that with a guy who only a short time before blew up an entire star system and ended a galactic government.

And while we're on the subject, let's talk about General Armitage Hux. I love with every fiber of my being how much Hux gets shit on in this film. Not because he's a badly written character or because I don't like him, quite the contrary. I think he's extremely effective at being a villain you can truly hate, especially if you know his backstory. He's like every upper-class rich little shit that you love to see knocked down a peg, and on top of that he's a backstabbing lunatic Nazi. So yeah, I love how cartoonishly evil he is, but I also love when Snoke literally mops the floor with him and when Kylo Ren knocks his ass across the cockpit of his shuttle. Considering how instrumental Hux's father was to creating the First Order I'm hoping he's a big part of the reason why it eventually falls apart. Maybe he'll try to lead an internal coup (which is totally something he would do) and it happens at the moment when Kylo Ren is about to claim his final victory, possibly by killing/turning Rey, and then Hux waltzes in and the whole thing goes to shit.

The Ships. Not the Supremacy or Kylor Ren's TIE Silencer or those badass new bombers, no you know what ships I'm talking about. Now, I've made it fairly clear in the past that "shipping" is not an activity I engage in, but this is Tumblr so here are my extremely meager thoughts: Finn and Rose isn't a thing. It's fairly obvious that she was in sort-of shock when she kissed Finn, he doesn't reciprocate, and he's totally still hung up on Rey. Finn and Poe probably should be a thing, but I think Disney is still hesitant to go all-in. I've heard some people claim that one of the final scenes where they meet for the first time is setting up Rey and Poe and... what? Finally, Reylo. Yeah they have a Force bond and shared some pretty intimate moments, but I think it's pretty clear from their final Skype call that she's literally closed the door on him.

So the legendary Skywalker lightsaber is broken now, but Rey kept the pieces. So... she's totally going to rebuild it, right? Jedi have to build their own lightsabers as part of their training and all, so that makes sense to me. It would also make sense for her to modify it into a double blade since she's obviously way more comfortable swinging her staff around.

Need to see it a few more times, but I wasn't particularly wowed by the soundtrack. I know John Williams doesn't have to prove anything to anyone (and the themes from The Force Awakens get dialed up to 11 here) but I don't remember any stand-out new pieces of music. I do love that March of the Resistance theme though. Oh my.

So those are my scattered thoughts, probably missed a few things but, yeah. Overall I enjoyed the movie. One curious thing I walked away with was a lack of any desire to immediately start theorycrafting over where Episode 9 is going to go. This movie definitely expanded the lore of the series, dashed a few people’s hopes and elevated others, but I really didn’t feel the need to start examining frames and looking for the hidden connections that might foreshadow the next big twist. For once I was happy just to experience a film on its own and not worry about its relationship to the rest of the series. I think that’s a pretty impressive feat for a Star Wars movie.

Possibly more later. MTFBWY.

[samuraiko]

A Royal (TUTOR) Flush

One of the things I've repeatedly noticed in THE ROYAL TUTOR's opening credits is the whole playing card motif - each of the princes is associated with a suit, Heine is 'holding' all four cards in his hands at one point, and later when the princes are playing cards in the merry-go-round coach, you see each of them 'discard' one with his particular ‘demon’ on it.

(Fun fact: after being consistent the rest of the way through, the suits for the princes are wrong on the cards in the coach segment.)

Leonhard: Spades

Licht: Hearts

Bruno: Clubs

Kai: Diamonds

Now, as a long-standing tarot reader (27 years and counting), of COURSE my brain then started trying to figure out what was going on here. So this is my take on things. Enjoy!

Going off the traditional poker suits' original tarot equivalents, we have:

Leonhard: Swords - Air

Licht: Cups - Water

Bruno: Staves (or Wands) - Fire

Kai: Pentacles - Earth

(Really quick notice - I’ve only seen thru ep 9 of the series via the FUNi dub, and vol 1 of the manga in English.)

Like the wind, Leonhard is motion and speed. Flighty and easily diverted, he loves the freedom of movement. (And given his occasional 'duh' moments, the jokes about him being an airhead almost write themselves.) His Swords aspect comes through in his crusader moments such as vowing to stop the thief and wanting to 'beat up all the bad guys', and in his more combative moments of constantly arguing and seeing everything as a struggle for dominance. The nobility facet of his Swords aspect really shines in his deep-seated desire to become like his brother Bruno - not out of a need to surpass him, but because he recognizes his brother's greater qualities and wants to emulate them. Swords are also representative of leaps of creative logic, and Leonhard's flexibility and imagination are what draw his father's praise.

Like his element, Water, Licht is adaptable and mercurial, and as the axiom goes, 'still waters run deep.' With Cups as the suit related to emotion, it's small wonder he's the charmer of the family, and at the same time, the one who feels most deeply wounded by his father's distance. His Cups nature serves him well as the diplomat of the family (he's acknowledged as having good relations with foreign royals). Licht often reflects the nature of those around him - with his flighty lady friends, he's all charm and smiles, whereas around the hard-working, dedicated proprietor of the café, he's more serious and compassionate. On the negative side, impulse control is a really big problem for him, as he often speaks or acts first, and thinks later (and regrets it later still when he catches a well-placed (and deserved) kick to the face).

Fire is the element of passion (not just the romantic sense), and passion consumes Bruno like nothing else. He devours learning and culture, radiating it back to the world around him through his papers and his lectures. (Side linguistic note: passion originally comes from the Latin root 'pati', which means 'to suffer' or 'to endure'. Considering the burden of awareness he bears knowing that he can never surpass his genius brother (not to mention that without his royal status, he'd be nothing), this is quite apt.) Staves are the suit of education, craftsmanship, and learning, again a perfect fit for our scholar prince. With Staves indicative of logical thinking and intuition, we see this in his talent for chess and cards (requiring both strategy and intuition), as well as music (both technical and emotional). And while he does have something of a temper, it briefly flares and then burns out (or in the case of his ongoing 'merry war' with Licht, a consistent slow burn).

Earth is sedentary and nurturing, which is Kai to a fault. And he's also the most 'grounded' (pun intended) of the four princes, thinking things through methodically even if his logic is a bit off at times. If Leonhard is a body in motion, Kai is a body at rest. But when the earth moves, it MOVES, and Kai is a downright force of nature when provoked. His Pentacles aspect is clearly demonstrated in his sense of stability, whether as the peacemaker between Bruno and Licht, the supportive shoulder for Leonhard, or the voice of quiet reason and comfort for Adele. Unfortunately, this also means he tends to draw comfort from sticking with the boundaries of what he knows, even if that involves staying in a rut. Pentacles are also all about security (usually financial), but while money isn't a concern for Kai (he's a prince, after all), his sole desire for the kingdom is to keep the people safe - whether chasing down a thief and returning money to an elderly woman, or pulling off an incredible feat of strength to protect his favorite professor.

Bonus points:

If I were going to peg the princes as the Major Arcana, for myself, I’d go with:

Leonhard: The Chariot

Licht: The Moon

Bruno: The Magician

Kai: Strength

Leonhard as the Chariot is the card of movement and determination - in keeping with his Air aspect, this is very much him, but it also reflects his rather reckless behaviour. Once you’re in full flight, it’s not exactly easy to stop. The Chariot also goes well with his martial and athletic skills, especially his horsemanship.

It’d be too easy to cast Licht as the Lovers, to be honest, and it doesn’t really come close to showing the rest of his personality. But casting Licht as the Moon (ever changing yet ever constant), the card of illusions and hope, I can see a bit more easily. As with his Water aspect, the Moon is all about reflections, something I mentioned earlier in terms of Licht’s shifting personality depending on his companions.

Bruno in my mind is almost a tie between the Magician and the Hermit. But unlike the Hermit, who goes off on his own and serves to light the way of others by distant example, Bruno’s Magician is willing to share his knowledge and insight with those who have the skill and willingness to learn, as well as being willing to experiment and keep trying things himself.

So many people get the Strength card wrong, but Kai is the perfect example of it done right. The Strength card is NOT about physical prowess and brute force - it’s about knowing when NOT to use it. Kai may be the strongest of the princes, but it is a recognition (and to a degree, fear) of his strength that makes him seek out alternative methods to it. He’ll use it if he has to, but he knows that the greatest strength lies within one’s character, not his fists.

[tanmath3-blog]

For anyone that doesn’t know Toneye Eyenot you are missing out on an amazing writer and a truly wonderful friend. I have loads of love and respect for him. He is a man of many talents but his passion for writing just blows me away. I have yet to read anything he has written that I didn’t like. Toneye is a lover of wolves and his Facebook family are his pack with lots of wolfbrothers and wolfsisters. Some of the best people I have ever met. He is always ready to help another author and lend a hand giving feed back or help with editing a story. My best advice is for you to make sure to pick up his books. It will not be a decision you will regret. Please help me welcome Toneye Eyenot  (my wolfbrother) back to Roadie Notes…….

    1. It’s been awhile since we talked what new books do you have out now? Latest release?

Toneye: Hi, wolfsis, It has been! A whole year since our last little pow wow and in that year, eye have only released the before-mentioned Blood Moon Big Top, which was awaiting release last time we talked. That dreaded anthology addiction eye mentioned last time, and my resolve to curb it, failed miserably hahahaha. So, 2016 saw several more short stories released in a variety of anthologies, with a hefty handful still yet to be released. But speaking of anthologies, eye did release one which eye ran called Full Moon Slaughter through JEA Press. It was a massive undertaking which culminated in a near 400 page book, 35 authors with 37 ‘tails’ of lycanthropic madness in which eye was honoured to have the esteemed Sisters of Slaughter – Michelle Garza and Melissa Lason as our feature authors. It was a highlight of 2016 for me. It did really well on release and continues to be quite popular. So much so, that eye am now on the verge of closing the call on Full Moon Slaughter 2: Altered Beasts. This one expands on the werewolf theme into the realms of Therianthropy, which is open to include a myriad of werebeasts. We have a wereoctopus, a werehedgehog, wereants, among many other strange and bizarre creations. There is also still a healthy dose of werewolf amongst the submissions as well. This one is gonna be a real killer! 2. If you could pick any author alive or dead to have lunch with who would it be? Why?

Toneye: Oh, that’s easy! Why, Dawn Cano, the Baby Cooker, of korpse!! There’s the ‘who & why’ right there hahahaha!

3. What is the strangest thing a fan has ever done?

Toneye: Y’know, eye thought this one would be easy, but honestly, eye can’t come up with an answer. There’s probably hundreds of things, but eye myself am a little bit strange, so the strangest things everyone does are completely normal to me. Maybe this, from my fellow author and wolfbrother Matty-Bob Cash might qualify. He sent me this portrait of me and him hahahahaha

4. What is the one thing you dread to do when writing?

Toneye: Run out of coffee or lungrots. Eye always make sure eye have enough to get me through the night, after the shops are closed.

5. Did you have imaginary friends growing up? Tell me about them

Toneye: Didn’t we all? Mine was my favourite teddy bear. His name was Robot Teddy because he had pointy, square shoulders, and he used to talk to me. He told me he liked KISS, so one day eye got a black texta and gave him the Gene Simmons makeup. He didn’t like his ears either, so eye cut them off for him. He was very grateful.

6. Do you go to conventions? If not why?

Toneye: No, not yet. Despite my somewhat colourful online presence, in real life eye am a bit of a hermit. Just recently discovered a con here in Sydney, but it was after the fact. Maybe next year, or if eye find out about more in my area before they happen. Eye really should get out more. The conventions eye see on farcebook over in the U.S. and U.K. look like a lot of fun and a good way to meet other authors…maybe even score some new readers.

7. How many times did you have to submit your first story before it was accepted?

Toneye: Only once. Funny and ironic that the acceptance would be for a certain anthology which goes by the name of REJECTED For Content hahahaha.

8. Ever consider not writing? If so what made you continue?

Toneye: No, never. Been writing for over 27 years now, if you include poetry. Since 2011, writing stories has become my obsession. Although there were a couple of years, during a train-wreck of a relationship, that my writing suffered greatly. That’s why it took me 3 years to write The Scarlett Curse, but giving up was never an option. Married to my writing now and that works best for me eye think.

9. Ever thought about writing in a different category?

Toneye: Absolutely. That children’s story eye mentioned in our last interview…well, eye am still trying to find my inner 6-year-old haha. That one hasn’t made any progression, but it’s still on the cards.

10. Any new additions to the family?

Toneye: No. Still just the one son, who eye would kill and die for. My writing family continues to grow though J

11. What is coming up next for you?

Toneye: Full Moon Slaughter 2: Altered Beasts is the next thing eye will be releasing with JEA Press. Then once eye clear my current commitments of anthology submissions, eye am steering clear of anthos altogether and getting Book 3 in The Sacred Blade Of Profanity series finished once and for all! It’s been far too long since Joshua’s Folly was released and eye have readers waiting to continue that journey. Eye have been a good wolf this year though and stuck to my guns. My problem is eye hate saying ‘No’ to people, but eye have turned down several invites to anthologies this year. Maybe there is hope for me yet hahaha. Eye have been involved in a massive and secret project for the past year though and that is nearing completion. All will be revealed with that very soon.

12. Do you do release parties? Do you think they work?

Toneye: Yes, eye have done a few. They are great and they do tend to work, despite Fuktbook making it difficult every step of the way. It’s not uncommon for event organisers and guest authors to be locked out of their own event because Fuktbook thinks they’re ‘going too fast’. If you’ve ever organized one, or even just been to one, you’ll know just how crazy they can get. ‘Going fast’ is the only way you can keep up, especially if you are hosting the event. Eye always come away from them mentally exhausted but eye love ‘em! J

13. Do you have crazy stalker fans? Have you ever had one you wish would go away?

Toneye: Yes hahaha, they’re ALL crazy! My kinda crazy, of korpse. They’re not all stalkers though. Eye do have a couple who get a bit freaked out and worried when eye disappear for more than a day, but they are special to me and eye love ‘em. They can stalk me for as long as they like hahaha.

14. Do you still have a “day job”? If so what do you do?

Toneye: No day job. Eye do help my brother out every now and then though, but that’s only very occasionally. Installing floors.

15. What is your process for writing? Do you have a voice in your head?

Toneye: First and foremost…COFFEE! Once that has been taken care of, eye might sit with my characters for a while and throw some ideas around until we can all come to some kind of agreement on which way the story will go. Depending on the story, the characters can either be a breeze to work with, or they can be real troublesome bastards. Take Marnard for instance. He came into The Sacred Blade Of Profanity series during book 2 – Joshua’s Folly. Eye like Marnard, we get on well and for the most part, he goes where eye tell him. Halfway through book 3 however, and the stupid kid goes n falls in love with some wolf girl in Mellowood Forest! Eye don’t write Romance, so this has thrown me a curve ball and caused me all kinds of distress. So to refer to your earlier question about writing in a different category, Marnard is forcing my hand to include a romantic element to my otherwise dark and horrifying story. Eye will be taking every step in keeping this element to a minimum, but yeah. To say eye am not impressed by his rampant teenage hormones is a massive understatement.

16. Is there a book you want to make a sequel to you haven’t yet?

Toneye: Yes! Book 3 in The Sacred Blade Of Profanity series hahaha. Book 2 being the prequel, this one really, REALLY needs to be finished.

Fangs so much for having me back, wolfsis! Eye hope eye have given you and the readers a little more insight into what makes me tick! As a treat, and a thank you, here’s a poem eye wanna share with you. It’s from Rejected For Content 3 by JEA Press and is my fave poem that eye have written so far. Enjoy, and until next time, Kopulater Desekraters!

Thank you Toneye for coming back and giving us an update! It is always a pleasure and honor my wolfbrother!!

FRED, THE DIS-EMBODIED HEAD Written by Toneye Eyenot “Well, fuck me dead!” exclaimed poor Fred, the freshly dis-embodied head. Rolling off the foot of the bed, he saw his body twitch. “I shouldn’t care but this ain’t fair! You psychopathic bitch!” As he hit the bedroom floor, his killer bolted for the door. Her hatchet, bloody, in her claw. Her vengeance justly sated. “You got what you rightly deserved and no more,” Dolores stated. She swung the bedroom door ajar, ran from the house and to the car as sirens sounded from afar. There had been some commotion. She slammed the gears and threw the beast into a forward motion. Tearing ‘round the corner wide, the car performs a sideways slide. She near collects a passer-by, who hollers as he dives, “My god, I can’t believe I’m still alive!” Back in control, Dolores starts to breathe again. Her pounding heart now skips a beat, beside her on the seat sits Fred…The freshly dis-embodied head. “Hey Dolores, look at me! In killing me, you set me free! Free to do most anything. I think I might just sing.” His ghastly chords and horrid tones chilled poor Dolores to her bones. She cast him from the window to the swiftly passing road. Not a soul in sight, she was once again alone. Shaken, Dolores speeds towards her home. Once inside with bolted door, Dolores falls onto her floor. On her homeward ride, she was terrified and stunned by what she saw. Guess who rolls out from her bedroom door? “Hey Dolores, fancy that! You threw me out, thought that was that. Well, here I am to prove you wrong. How ‘bout another song?” Dolores screamed and held her ears. Fred began his jests and jeers in off, discordant baritones that rattled poor Dolores’ bones. She hastily scrambled for the telephone. “What is your emergency?” The voice enquired indifferently. “Help me, please!” Dolores screamed. “He will not leave me be! I’m on Flinder Street. Eleven sixty three. I don’t care how, just get here now. You have to understand, he’s killing me!” As sirens wailed, her sanity failed whilst Fred the dis-embodied head assailed. He sang of times of happiness. Of times they’d felt their lives were blessed with the truest love, through all things, would prevail. His voice carried the agony of ripped and broken nails. Bursting through her bolted door, reached the long arm of the law and grabbed Dolores off the floor, her mind destroyed, in tatters. Fred the dis-embodied head lay silently and surely dead. Dolores’ bloody hands are all that matters. Taken into custody, she was labelled with insanity. Her life was spent in deep repent, never to be free. Left without hope to atone, in her padded room alone, with Fred, the dis-embodied head to keep her company. © Toneye Eyenot 2014

  You can connect with Toneye Eyenot here:

https://www.amazon.com/Toneye-Eyenot/e/B00NVVMHVA/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_3?qid=1494147021&sr=8-3-spell

Twitter: @ToneyeEyenot

    Some of Toneye Eyenot books:

Getting even more personal with Toneye Eyenot For anyone that doesn't know Toneye Eyenot you are missing out on an amazing writer and a truly wonderful friend.