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teacupfulofstarshine · 4 years ago

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LOVELY, DARK, AND DEEP CHAPTER 10

PLEASE HEED THE CONTENT WARNINGS!!! this chapter features Evil Scientist Lady and her Fucked Up WorldView a LOT, and there are also some Major Plot Events that involve Violence. i will put a summary in the end notes if you decide at any point that this particular chapter is too much - that's super valid! i will also mention here that no main characters are going to die in this story and no one dies in this chapter either.

huge huge thanks to @flamingfawkes for beta’ing!

CW: extreme disregard for human life, mentioned human and animal cruelty, toxic workplace environment, violence (both imagined and actual, mildly graphic), gun mention, minor blood, death threats, extremely unethical character, unethical science, stalking

chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3 // chapter 4 // chapter 5 // chapter 6 // chapter 7 // chapter 8 // chapter 9 // read it on ao3!

“This is the same result we’ve gotten the last twenty times -”

“I don’t care, Steven, run it again!”

Steven sighs, punching at the keyboard to run the statistical analysis sequence again. “This is ridiculous! I’ve run this sequence so many times it feels like my eyes are going to bleed. Why can’t we just turn in the results we have and -”

“Because she’ll behead us,” James snaps, “and then she’ll destroy our reputations and our families and they’ll get no severance. I have three young children at home, Steven, I need this money.” Steven softens a little, fingers running smoothly over the keys as he combs the data again. Next to him, James has a computer screen full of frame-by-frame stills of what little data they recovered from the probe before it was destroyed; Penny across the room is surrounded by ancient texts a mile high and at least three laptops.

“Why is she so interested in this, anyway?”

“It’s beyond me. Since when do we question the whims of what we’re told to do?”

Steven squints at the screen, pushing his chair back and rubbing at his eyes. “If I have to stare at these numbers for one more second, my brain is going to explode. I feel like my eyeballs are going to melt out of my skull. I wanna scream.”

James pulls up another image, staring at the blurry image of the merman before him. Steven pushes away from his own screen and squints at James’s. The merman in the photo looks young, not much older than his kid brother, but they don’t know anything about the lifespan of these creatures. He looks confused, squinting at the camera. As James flicks through the stills, the merman transitions from confused to angry to enraged, and then he attacks.

“He’s not happy about the camera.”

“Would you be happy about someone spying on you and your family?” James says, switching to the next still.

“I wouldn’t be happy if I thought someone was doing anything we do in this lab to me or my family.” James elbows Steven, but luckily no one else seems to have heard.

“This lab isn’t the most ethical place I’ve ever worked, but it pays the bills,” James mutters. “And we’re not even in the experimentation lab. We just do data analysis. We’re removed from the situation.”

Are we? Steven wonders. He sees James reach out and touch the framed picture of his daughters, and keeps his mouth shut. He turns back to his computer, watching the little spinning color wheel of his mouse as the program calculates the same numbers again and again. The results come up identical to the previous ones, and Steven clicks “Run Program” again wordlessly.

They work in silence for a while, the three of them, broken only by James’s muttering and the occasional thud of one of Penny’s books and the clicks of keyboards and mice. If they weren’t so reliant on technology, Steven thinks, there would be an enormous corkboard spanning three of the four walls, covered in pushpins and handwriting and red string connecting images. He debates actually building one, if only to increase the levity in the room, but decides against it.

He’s seen people punished or fired or who-knows-what-else for far less, after all.

Instead, after his program tells him for the twenty-third time that his results are the same (and didn’t someone say insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results?), Steven scrubs at his eyes with the heels of his palms and opens the data entry window. Maybe the problem with the results has to do with the entry of the data; did he input something wrong? It’s possible . . .

Here he goes again, he supposes. He stands up, stretches, and leans back to crack some vertebrae. “I’m gonna grab a coffee, take a short screen break, and go back to the beginning. Maybe there’s something in the input that I missed. You want anything?”

James groans, thunking his head against the desk. “I want something with enough caffeine to kill three elephants, please.” Steven nods, looking over at Penny. She shakes her head, and he heads for the shitty coffee machine a few doors down.

Several floors below, a young woman pulls her lab goggles up to rest on top of her head with her perfectly-pinned protocol-compliant bun. “The latest round of tests is completely done, ma’am. I think you’ll find the efficacy . . . striking.”

She takes the clipboard, glossy perfectly-painted nails pinching the sheets of thin paper and flicking between them. “I’m afraid I don’t do so well with the scientific side of things - Kathleen, was it? Explain this to me, would you?”

“Certainly, ma’am. As you know, the kill time for the most effective neurotoxin currently available, tetrodotoxin, varies from thirty minutes to four hours. Average time for symptoms to manifest is seventeen minutes, and from there the symptoms progress through tingling of the lips and tongue, headache, vomiting, muscle weakness, ataxia, et cetera. Death occurs as a result of respiratory or heart failure, and the poison is nearly undetectable if you do not specifically test for it.”

“The untraceability is a plus, but that is far too wide a range of times, and too slow a time even at its fastest.”

“Of course, ma’am, but as far as naturally-occurring marine poisons go - actually, as far as naturally-occurring poisons go, full stop - it is the most effective. Until now, that is.”

“Oh? What are your findings?”

“Which trials would you like to start with, ma’am?”

“The human trials, Kathleen. The only ones that matter. I hardly intend to go around killing mice and hoping that no one traces their deaths to a novel neurotoxin.” She laughs airily, and Kathleen nods along.

“Certainly, ma’am. The most recent data points indicate an average efficacy time of thirteen minutes for our compound neurotoxin, with a full range between nine and seventeen minutes passing before subject death. Subjects began to show symptoms around five minutes, give or take twenty-five seconds.”

“And those symptoms were?”

Kathleen flips through the document. “Seizures, vital organ failure, blindness, painful muscle spasms, suffocation from the inside out.”

She hums, tapping a manicured finger against the report. “Well, Kathleen, that is certainly impressive, especially for a preliminary human subject trial. These results . . . I must say, they are not nearly as disappointing as I anticipated when I came down here.”

“Ma’am?”

“How long have you worked for this company, Kathleen?”

“Almost five years, ma’am, but I’ve always been an assistant. This is my first time as lead researcher and biochemist on a project, ever since you . . . laid off the previous lead researcher.”

“Kathleen, let me be frank. These results are not what I hoped for. The efficacy time and symptom onset times are both far too long for my liking, and the range of efficacy time is too broad. By all accounts, I should consider this a failure.” Kathleen swallows, but remains poised. “However, you’ve managed to shave off a considerable amount of time from the tetrodotoxin readings. The range of symptom onset time is an acceptable breadth, and your results are far beyond anything your predecessor ever accomplished for me. This is truly impressive, all things considered.”

“Thank you, ma’am. How should I proceed?”

“I want the efficacy doubled - tripled - I want it upped by anywhere between four and five hundred percent. I want the pain increased, too. Feel free to increase your requests for test subjects, but get me the results I want. You said the original tetrodotoxin was untraceable?”

“That’s correct, ma’am.”

“Can you keep that feature intact?”

“As of right now, it is intact, ma’am. I will endeavor to keep it so in future experiments.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Welcome to your new position as head of this research division. Don’t let me down.” She holds out a slender hand, and Kathleen takes it, trying not to seem too eager.

“I won’t, ma’am.”

“How soon can you start this experiment up again?”

“The cleaners should be finished by tomorrow morning, ma’am, and I can tweak chemical formulas until then.”

“Excellent.” Her watch beeps, and she lifts it, pursing her bright lips as she examines the message she’s just received. “If you’ll excuse me, I have another matter to attend to. Someone will drop off your master access key for Lab Three within the hour.”

She steps into the elevator and lifts her watch up to her face, swiping through the messages from her secretary. One finger reaches out to press the button for the digital analysis labs floor, and the other taps away at her watch.

When she steps off the elevator, her secretary is waiting. “Ma’am.”

“What do they have for me?”

“Unclear. They said it was something they wanted to report directly to you and you alone, but it seems to be something big.”

“Hopefully it’s a big step in the right direction, or they’ll be taking a big step out of a job.” She relishes in the way the employees she passes all unfailingly flinch and then snap to perfect attention when they hear the sharp echo of her heels against the floor. She lifts her head and walks faster, striking the tiles with her heels like a gavel, sharp and precise against a judge’s desk.

The computer labs are disorganized when she enters, but there is a string of promising-looking numbers on the main display monitor. There is a woman surrounded by books and a man pulling up photos on his computer, and there is a third man standing in front of her like a toy soldier. She focuses on that one.

“I hear you have news for me? Make it swift, and make it good.”

He swallows, hard, and her eyes idly trace the line of his throat. If he disappoints her, perhaps she will drive her heel through it, to make an example of him. That would be far too messy; perhaps his dominant hand will do.

“I have narrowed down the location of the missing net, ma’am. I believe it to have washed up somewhere around these general GPS coordinates.” He fiddles with a remote in his hand, and the image on the screen changes. It shows an aerial satellite view of a secluded strip of beach, framed by rocky cliffs with larger rocks studded out into the open water. “It should have washed up somewhere in this one-point-three-seven-mile strip of beach. The whole area is property of one Doctor Thomas Sanders.”

She snarls. “That man. He won’t let us on that beach willingly until hell freezes over.”

The other man, the one scanning through photo stills and video footage, jumps up, knocking his chair backwards. “I found something!”

She turns towards him, and his excitement freezes and sputters into something much more controlled and terrified. “Show me.” He clicks something and pulls up video footage from one of their surveillance drones, zooming in on a particular patch of ocean along the stretch of Sanders’ beach. Her eyes widen when she sees what he’d noticed - a hump of red-and-white tail arcing above the waves before a pattern of ripples streaks off towards the cliff. He pauses the footage, rewinds it, uses a laser pointer to show an opening concealed in the cliff face.

“There’s some kind of grotto in there, hidden by the cliff. It’s on Sanders’ property, he has to know it’s there. And it looks like the merman from the destroyed drone knows it’s there too. Which means -”

“That must be where he’s keeping them.” Something burns in her chest, brilliant and terrifying and all-encapsulating, like wildfire. “We’ve found them, at long last.”

“What would you have me do?” her secretary asks. “I can arrange for a recovery squad at your earliest possible convenience, ma’am.”

“Assemble the squad, but do not have them move out. They will wait for my orders. When they go, you are to go with them.” Her secretary nods, once, sharp and sure. “Dispatch a crew to Lab One and clear it out. I want it prepped for containment, vivisection, chemical tests - the works. Get at least three tanks set up and one strap-down human table.”

“A human table, ma’am?”

“Yes. We have to deal with Sanders once and for all to ensure that he does not ruin any future experiments.”

“Will we be taking him as well?”

She hums thoughtfully. “No. Pull up the file we have on his known associate?”

A few swift clicks and flicks and a photo appears on the large screen: a young man with brown-and-purple hair, sleeves rolled up, carefully lowering a perfectly viable specimen into the ocean and letting it go, like some kind of fool. “His doctoral student, ma’am. The longest one he’s ever kept - this one has been with him a few years.”

“Excellent. When you raid the lab, take him.”

“Should we kill Sanders?”

“No. Rough him up a little, but leave him alive. Taking his protégé and leaving him alone, helpless to rescue him, will be the highest form of torture for such an insufferable person. The agony will eat him alive until his dying day.”

Her secretary nods, taking the notes down dutifully. The other employees look vaguely horrified, but she pays them no mind. No sacrifice is too great to be made in the name of progress, and anyone who thinks otherwise is a weakling who will never get anywhere in life.

She refuses to be one of those weaklings.

*~*~*~*~*

Logan wakes up confused.

He’s warm, warmer than he thinks he’s ever been in his whole life. When he stirs, he moves farther than he meant to - he must not be underwater. That’s enough to send a jolt of concern through his sleep-addled brain. Why isn’t he underwater? Why was he sleeping if he was above the surface? There’s no way his dad is here, and Roman hates surfacing, where are they? Where is he? But he’s so comfortable . . .

Someone shifts beside him, an arm draping across his waist, and Logan forces his eyes open. He shifts his lower half, confused when two things move instead of one, and there are layers upon layers of thin, flat, soft things wrapping around him. What is happening?

Slowly, slowly, his mind clears, and he remembers the events of last night. He grew legs - he was a human, once, before he was mer - he couldn’t sleep underwater with Dad and Roman - Virgil was teaching him to walk - Virgil put “clothes” on him - Virgil was embarrassed that he didn’t have those “clothes” on him - Virgil took him out of the lab to sleep - Virgil agreed to cuddle him since his pod couldn’t -

Logan feels the strange burning in his face again as he shifts. He can’t see well in this new human form, but when things are close enough to his face they’re relatively clear. And Virgil, still sleeping, is close enough that Logan can smell him - he smells like salt water mixed with something sharp and something sweet and something else that Logan can’t quite identify but finds addicting nonetheless. Sunlight streams in and pools around Virgil’s face, illuminating the tangled mess of hair spread around him and flopping into his face, the small puddle of water leaking out from his open mouth onto the soft thing he’s resting his head on, the way his chest moves slowly with every breath. His arm is wrapped around Logan, pulling him close. Logan thinks he might explode if he focuses on this any more, so he rolls from his side to his back as carefully as he can, not wanting to wake Virgil. Virgil tightens his arm around Logan and mutters something indecipherable in his sleep, but he doesn’t wake.

Rather than focusing on his very confusing feelings for the very pretty man next to him, Logan focuses on what he can see of the room around him. He makes a list in his mind of things that he plans to ask Virgil about later today, including:

1: There are many draws attached to the small, smooth cliffs surrounding them. How do they stay there?

2: There are lots of “clothes” scattered all around the floor, and there were several on the bed, too. Is that normal for humans?

3: Last night, Virgil did something that made the room light up with trapped sunlight! How did he do that?

4: How did Virgil get ice to stay in those big frozen sheets in such a warm place to let the sunlight in?

5: How did Virgil make ice into that weird shape that he filled with water and drank last night?

6: How did Virgil get the water to come into this place?

7: Do all humans have a specific area set aside for sleeping? Logan and his pod usually just sleep wherever they can, but Virgil seems to have this soft slab set aside with all of these soft things to be comfortable and sleep in every night. Is this a Human Thing or strictly a Virgil Thing?

Logan looks out through the sheet of ice that protects Virgil’s area from the outside and gasps. He can’t see well, but there’s a glittering expanse of blue that shifts and moves and oh, is that the ocean?

He’s spent his whole life (well, his whole remembered life, anyways) in the ocean, and he’s seen some truly wondrous things. He travels around the world with his pod, he knows the ocean is big, but seeing it spread out like this is . . . awe-inspiring. Logan has never seen the ocean like this, and now that he has he doesn’t think he can ever not see it like this again. It’s like a perfect sheet of sea-glass, rippling and unbroken but dynamic in a way that he never really gets a sense of when he’s beneath it.

He knows that there are waves, of course. There are smaller swells out on the open ocean, and larger ones when the Second Goddess dips her fingers down from the Upper Ocean and swirls the storms to a thundering burst. There are waves along the shoreline, ones that he frolics in with Roman and batter him against the shoreline. There are waves created when he or his pod members surface. But watching the movement of the ocean from up here is . . .

Even with his imperfect vision, he is completely at a loss for words as he stares at the ocean.

Eventually, Virgil stirs next to him, and Logan turns away from the ocean to stare at him. Virgil is close to him, arms wrapped tightly around him, face pressed against him. Logan’s eyesight is not great, but Virgil is close enough that he can pick out little details of his face. There are brown face scales scattered all over him, but they seem to cluster on his nose and his cheeks. Logan has wanted to touch them for a substantial amount of time, and he can’t stop himself from gently settling the tips of his fingers over Virgil’s cheek.

His face doesn’t feel like Logan was expecting. The scales don’t give texture to his face the way that Logan’s do; the skin is smooth and flat. There are little bumps all over, but the brown scales aren’t raised off the skin like Logan expected. He lets his fingers trail along Virgil’s face. His bone structure seems to be exceedingly similar to Logan’s, at least in regards to his head. Logan’s finger rests gently on the curve of bone under Virgil’s eye, and Virgil exhales warm breath onto his palm.

Logan wonders what it would be like to have this for longer than just his recovery period. He wonders what it would be like to wake up next to Virgil all the time, to get to run his hands over Virgil’s face and arms and chest and examine the differences between their anatomy. He wonders what it would be like to learn to walk without falling over, and he feels a sharp, unexpected twinge in his chest as he realizes that getting better at walking means no more closeness to Virgil.

His chest feels strange, like there’s a school of small fish swarming around and tickling his insides and making him feel all foamy, like the froth churned up by a windswept sea. He feels like he does when he’s underwater - free, weightless, mobile, limited by nothing except his own imagination. He feels unstoppable.

Virgil makes a sudden, sharp inhale, blinking his eyes open slowly. Logan thinks that, perhaps, he might not appreciate being studied unknowingly - he hadn’t appreciated Virgil doing it, before he understood what was happening, when all he knew was the loss of his pod aching like a scraped-out seashell. As Virgil wakes up, Logan shifts, turning his gaze to the rest of the room.

Virgil makes a sleepy grumbling noise, opening one eye. Logan chances another quick glance at him, and when his eye slides open Logan is struck by its beauty. He doesn’t get much of a chance to admire it, however, before Virgil is jolting backwards like Logan’s struck him with lightning. Logan is confused, reaching out and gently touching his shoulder. “Virgil?”

“Wassat?! Wait . . . L’gan?”

“It is me,” Logan says softly. “Are - are you upset with me?”

Virgil yawns, jaw dropping to his chest, revealing a flash of teeth and a soft pink tongue. (Logan wants to lick it. Why does Logan want to lick it? Why is Logan thinking about Virgil’s tongue licking his tongue - why is Logan thinking about Virgil - what in the Seven Oceans is happening to him.) “Wh - no, no, ‘m okay, I just - woke up, forgot I had you with me, got confused about another person in my bed.” Before Logan can start to feel bad, Virgil adds, “S’okay if it’s you, though,” and the foamy, floaty feeling is back.

“Did you sleep well?”

Virgil laughs, low and rumbling, and Logan can feel it in his fingers where he touches Virgil’s skin. “I never sleep well.” He sits up, and the fabric of his pajamas shifts to let Logan see stretches of soft, supple skin that he usually doesn’t. Logan wants to touch it. He very determinedly keeps his hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “Gotta admit, though, last night was . . . better than usual.”

This appears to be the point where Virgil first notices their position - pressed together, arm slung over Logan, basically cuddling the way that Logan normally would with his pod. (No tangle with his pod has ever felt this . . . electric, this charged, this important to Logan before.) His face flares a brilliant red, and he shifts like he wants to move away but -

“I’m sorry,” Virgil says. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No!” Logan blurts out. Virgil blinks at him a little, and maybe he was a little overly enthusiastic, but - “I sleep in a tangle with Dad and Roman all the time. I have extreme difficulty sleeping without contact with someone else. It . . . helped me greatly.”

“Oh,” Virgil says, face turning redder still, smiling shyly. “That - makes me feel better. Thanks, Lo.”

Logan smiles, and Virgil smiles too, reaching up to gently move a piece of hair away from his face. Logan thinks that, as far as deaths go, his chest exploding (which seems to be getting more and more likely every fifteen seconds he spends in Virgil’s presence, only accelerated by all this skin-on-skin contact they’re having right now) seems to be the most pleasurable.

Virgil opens his mouth to say something, but whatever it was is interrupted by a Ping! noise from across the room. “What is that?” Logan asks. Virgil, sadly, untangles himself from Logan and the blankets, sliding out of bed and heading over to one of the other structures in the room (what did he call it last night? Dex?) and picking up a flat glowing rectangle.

“Is everything alright?”

“What? Yeah, yeah, I - Thomas sent me a text, it’s a little weird.”

“What is a text?”

“It’s a kind of human messaging system, it allows us to communicate when we’re far away from each other.”

“Like a pod call?” “Kind of? I’ll explain more later, I promise, I just - I gotta go down to the lab real quick.”

“I’ll come with -”

“No!” Virgil snaps. Logan flinches, and Virgil softens, crossing the room and gently touching his shoulder. “Hey, no, Logan, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just - this message, there’s something off. I think something might be wrong, and I don’t want to put you in any unnecessary danger. Just - wait here, okay? Wait in my room, where it’s safe. It’s probably nothing, he’s probably fine, but on the off chance that he’s not, I want you to stay hidden safely up here.”

Logan isn’t sure why this makes his face heat up slightly, but it does. “Okay. I accept your apology, and I . . . trust you.”

Virgil smiles, soft and heartwarming, and Logan is beginning to give more credence to his “chest explosion is fine, actually” theory. “Wait for me here, okay? I’ll be right back. I promise.”

He leaves, shutting the door firmly behind him, and the foamy feeling in Logan’s chest dissipates a little. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but there’s something . . . off. If Logan didn’t know better, he’d think that he was sensing a predator approaching.

But that can’t be right, he isn’t underwater. His danger senses are likely just overreacting to his disappointment at Virgil’s absence.

. . . Right?

*~*~*~*~*

Thomas is beginning to regret letting Roman and Patton (specifically, Roman) out of the large tank before finishing his first coffee of the morning.

“I want some!” Roman complains.

“Do you even know what it is?” Thomas says. Roman pouts sulkily at him.

“. . . No,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. Thomas gives him the deadpan, no-nonsense, I-am-your-direct-superior-take-the-damn-samples-Virgil stare that he has perfected over the past few years. Roman wilts a little more, and Thomas feels slightly bad.

“It’s called coffee,” he says. “It’s a hot drink that lots of people have in the morning. Some people drink it plain, and some people add things to it to change the way it tastes. It helps me wake up more and get focused to start my day, and sometimes I drink it late at night to help keep me awake.”

Roman looks less like a kicked puppy and more like Logan, eyes wide and curious. “I want some!”

Thomas, taking a sip of his own two-seconds-of-cream-five-cubes-of-sugar coffee, nearly spits it out. He looks at Roman, eyes the very sharp, very detachable, very toxic spines covering his body, and says, “No.”

Roman’s demeanor changes entirely, switching from “curious toddler” to “toddler about to throw a temper tantrum” in a heartbeat. “Why not?!”

“Because when people drink coffee without being used to it, sometimes it makes them a little crazy.”

“I’m not crazy!”

“Do I need to recount to you how many times you’ve threatened me and my assistant since we met you?” Thomas says, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not giving you coffee until I know I can trust you not to stab me with your poisonous spines that cover your entire body and can be fired at people.”

Roman pouts more, dropping under the water and letting out a gratingly harmonious string of mer that Thomas is pretty sure translates to Roman bitching about the coffee situation to his dad. Based on the pattern of Patton’s response, he’s pretty sure Patton is laughing at Roman.

More sulky chalkboard-violin music, and then Roman resurfaces grumpily. “Dad agrees with you and says no consuming strange human foods.”

“Did he laugh at you?”

Roman squints suspiciously at him. “You can’t speak our language.”

“Yeah, but I know what it sounds like when a dad laughs at his kid.” Roman, continuing to pout, sinks back into the tank, presumably to sulk some more. Thomas takes another very long sip of coffee that is definitely too hot for his mouth and turns back to his desk.

Virgil should definitely be awake and in the lab at this point. The samples he’s supposed to be analyzing are sitting in their little tubes, each neatly labelled with locations and dates and times and what, specifically, Virgil is supposed to be looking for. Thomas considers going upstairs and waking up Virgil, who’s almost never been late for work in this way, but he decides against it. Virgil is upstairs with Logan, and Thomas knows that there’s something building between them. He’s not sure how advisable that something is, but he trusts Virgil to make his own decisions.

Besides, he could probably use some practice. His water sample analysis skills are pretty rusty, he’s had Virgil doing them for years. “Virgil, you owe me big time for what I’m doing for you.” He carefully shifts the samples over to his own desk, slides his earbuds in, picks up a pipette, and gets to work analyzing the bacterial and algal concentrations for any abnormalities.

Thomas accomplishes about forty-five minutes’ worth of work before Roman interrupts him by flicking water at him and soaking the back of his neck. “Hey!”

“I tried your name, but your little ear bug things were keeping you from hearing me,” Roman says smugly. Thomas, not for the first time, considers retreating to the closet and throwing beakers until he feels better.

“Can I help you?”

“Dad wants to go hunting and bring back breakfast, but we can’t leave without you.”

“Are you not going hunting?”

“I’m going to stay here and observe you,” Roman says.

Thomas blinks. “Do I . . . need observing?”

“How do I know you won’t sell us out to your little human friends the second you get a chance? If I’m here, I can stop you. Plus, what if you do something to Logan while we’re not here to protect him? No, no, I’m staying right where I am and you can’t make me leave.” His spines ripple; Thomas steps closer to a whiteboard in case he needs to duck.

“I’m not going to do that, and I don’t want you to stab me.”

“Still! I’m staying here! Also, Dad’s bigger than me, and he’s a better hunter cause he’s faster and he’s been hunting longer.

“Does he need something to help him carry all those fish?” Thomas asks. Roman opens his mouth like he’s going to say something snarky, pauses, and stops.

“I . . . usually we just eat what we catch when we catch it. We make a pile of prey and take turns guarding it while the other two hunt. Then we make a sacrifice to the Seven Mother Goddesses and eat what’s left.”

After some debate, Thomas is able to fashion a sling of sorts from some waterproof tarps and leftover anchor rope to tie around Patton’s body. “You can put the fish in this pouch and carry them back here. Will you be able to navigate your way back to the grotto?”

“He will,” Roman says. “Dad knows more about the ocean than any human possibly could.” Another discordant song from the tank, chastising, and Roman huffs. “Dad wants me to reassure you that he’ll be fine.”

Patton settles into the mobile tank easily, and Thomas gets him down to the grotto leading towards the sea. “When you come back, let out one of your pod calls and Virgil or I will come and collect you and your catch. Take as much time as you need, okay?”

Patton reaches up and gently pats Thomas’s arm with one large, damp hand, and Thomas takes that to mean an agreement. “Alright, off you go.” There’s a whoosh and a rush of water as it flows from the tank into the grotto in a clean arc, carrying Patton with it. Thomas waits for a moment, letting Patton disappear into the open ocean, before returning to the laboratory.

Roman, for the most part, ignores Thomas. He asks the occasional question, which Thomas tries to answer in a way that he’ll understand, and leans over the edge of his touch tank, eyes guarded. Every time Thomas sneaks a glance, when he thinks Roman isn’t looking, his expression is wide-eyed and wondrous, like Logan’s usually are, but the moment he realizes Thomas is watching him his entire face closes up like a clamshell.

Thomas wonders what it’ll take to get Roman to trust him, trust Virgil, trust any human. Granted, he doesn’t know Roman’s history with humans, but he and Patton are both fairly scarred, and Thomas might not know the whole story but he’d bet a not-insignificant amount of his monthly income that the giant starburst scar taking up the majority of Patton’s chest isn’t the result of a clash with a marine creature.

He works quietly, fielding the occasional question, keeping one ear on the grotto tunnel for Patton’s return. He’s not sure how long he expected Patton to be gone, but he hears movement in the grotto tunnel far sooner than he’d expected.

“Thomas, what’s -”

“Shhhh,” Thomas says. He stands up, pushing away from his desk, but before he can say anything else, there’s a flood of movement coming from the tunnel. Bodies pour into the lab, swift and strong and carrying weapons that they immediately train on Thomas and Roman.

“What is this?” Roman snaps, bristling. He sounds betrayed, like he thinks Thomas is behind this. Thomas picks up a heavy glass beaker, fully prepared to shatter it upside someone’s skull if necessary, but something heavy and hard strikes the back of his skull and he feels his knees crumple. Roman cries out, and Thomas struggles to push himself up. A hand fists itself in his hair and yanks him upright, sharply. Thomas exhales sharply through his teeth, but before he can start struggling, something cool and round rests against the back of his neck, shutting him up and shutting his brain down.

Roman is puffed up like a hedgehog, apparently fully prepared to defend Thomas despite his strong and inherent mistrust. Before he can begin to attack, Thomas hears the click-click-click of shoes on the hard stone floor. Whoever’s holding his head yanks him back again, and he is forced to watch as a woman walks into his laboratory.

(It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke - a sick, horrible, twisted joke.)

She has black heels, black tights, a black pencil skirt, a black blazer, and a blood-red blouse. Her hair is scraped back into a tight bun, pulled so taut it must hurt, and is held in place with a pitch black stick. She carries a - clipboard? tablet? Unclear - held against her chest, and there’s a sleek silver weapon in her right hand.

“The one from the video?” she asks.

“Affirmative, ma’am,” says the person holding Thomas’s head. The woman nods, lifting her weapon, and fires at Roman. Thomas tries to scream a warning, earning himself another painful yank from his captor, but the projectile lodges itself in Roman’s shoulder anyway.

It isn’t a bullet, but something that looks like a small syringe. Roman swats it out of his shoulder, swaying a little, but it doesn’t stop him from swiping at the - mercenary, they must be - who tries to grab him with his elbow spines. The woman frowns, lifts the weapon - some kind of tranquilizer gun? - and fires again.

Roman screams, inhuman and animal, and tears the newest dart from his arm, throwing himself out of his tank and clinging to the nearest mercenary. His teeth tear into the man’s shoulder, spines piercing through his camouflage clothing and flooding him with neurotoxin. The man collapses against the concrete, alive but unconscious, and Roman snarls at the next man as though daring him to approach. He sways, weakened but awake, and bares his teeth.

“Of course,” the woman says, tapping something on her tablet. “His naturally produced neurotoxin must be providing him with some level of natural resistance. Unexpected, but not a limitation.”

It takes three more tranquilizer darts before Roman finally slumps down into his tank, unconscious. The mercenaries look hesitant to approach him, but the woman reaches for her tablet and they scramble to action at once.

“No - no, stop, let him go, he’s not an animal for you to cart off to your lab -” Thomas starts. The man holding him knees him sharply in the back and he cries out, coughing.

They wrap Roman in thick leather bands, roughly shoving his spines flat and binding them against his skin so that he can’t attack them again. The woman nods, once, short and sharp, and they drag Roman away, letting his head bang mercilessly on the ground. Thomas catches a glimpse of a logo - emblazoned on the back of the jackets, on the back of the woman’s tablet, on the side of her tranquilizer gun - and commits it to memory. He’s going to need it, if he gets out of here alive.

“- your phone,” the woman says, and oh, when did she get in front of him.

“My what?”

His mouth runs dry as she places the tranquilizer gun under his chin, barrel pressing against his throat, and tips his chin up. “I said, give me your phone.”

Thomas blinks. “My - the desk. It’s on the desk.”

She sets her tablet down, picks up his phone, and shoves it in his face. “Open it.”

“I - wh -”

“Unlock your phone, Dr. Sanders. Must I repeat myself a third time?” She rolls her eyes. “Doctorates are wasted on people like you.”

Thomas numbly punches in his passcode, and she swipes through to his messages app, frowning before turning the screen towards his face to reveal a message thread with Virgil. “Is this your assistant?”

Thomas glares at her, he’s not going to give her what she wants, he’s not going to just give her Virgil but then the - gun, it must be a gun, what else would they be holding against his neck like this - pushes into him harder, and it’s probably bruising, and he can’t get himself killed here because then he definitely won’t be able to take care of Virgil and -

“Yes,” Thomas says, hating himself for giving in so easily. “What do you -”

She turns away from him, nails clicking against his phone screen as she sends a text message - to Virgil, presumably, and that makes his heart sink like a stone - before dropping it on the floor and stepping on it to shatter it. “I have a message for you.”

“A - what?”

“Did they really hit you that hard, or were you this stupid before we came here?” she says coldly, picking up the tablet again and tapping at the screen. Thomas groans as the man yanks him to his feet, shoving him onto his chair and pulling a roll of duct tape out of one of his multiple pants pockets. He tapes Thomas’s wrists and ankles to the chair, keeping his weapon trained on Thomas’s temple at all times, before pressing it roughly against his head and gripping his hair again.

The woman sets the tablet on his lab table, and the screen flickers to life, and then there’s a woman in front of a dark black backdrop, smiling at him like a cat who’s caught a canary. “Thomas Sanders. How long I’ve waited for this day.”

Thomas recognizes her. He knows he recognizes her. She used to be his classmate, before . . .

His head hurts, so badly that he can barely keep his eyes open, and the memory slips away. “You . . . why are you doing this?”

“Why? Because I am a real scientist, unlike you. You refuse to do what is necessary, what must be done for the progression of the species. The sacrifice of some worthless animals is necessary for humanity to reach its zenith. You would really hinder the entire human race for the preservation of lower life forms?”

“Wh - I -”

“You think that ‘preserving the ecosystem’ and ‘keeping animals alive’ makes you a good scientist, but it makes you weak. You are weak, Thomas Sanders, and if the world was left in the hands of people like you, the human race as we know it would die out in a few centuries. Fortunately, there are people like me, who understand what must be done.”

“Caring about other people and things - it doesn’t - it doesn’t make you weak,” Thomas says, chest heaving, and the woman just laughs.

“One of many logical fallacies to which you subscribe, Thomas. They really gave you a doctorate? Of course caring makes you weak. All emotions make you weak. They corrupt your data and make your experiments worthless. You must be ruthless. You must be willing to do whatever it takes to pursue your goals and achieve the height of success. But no.” She rolls her eyes, face hardening, twirling a pen in her fingers. “You insist on ethics and principles and letting emotions cloud your judgement, and that makes you a failure as a scientist. It makes you weak. Your attachments will be your downfall.”

Thomas’s eyes slide shut, head pounding, and the man behind him yanks at his hair so sharply that he knows some has been ripped out. He forces his eyes open in time to see a smile slide across the woman’s face like a knife, teeth gleaming white as sun-bleached bone.

“You won’t - get away with this,” Thomas manages. He grinds his teeth together and curls his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms to keep himself awake. “If you leave me alive -” Thomas, stop talking, why are you reminding her that she has the option to fucking kill you “- I will not rest until I find you. I’ll - you can’t -”

“You’ll what, Thomas? If you call the police, you’ll expose those creatures you’re so intent on protecting to the world. Are you really willing to take that chance?” Before Thomas can even begin formulating a response, she steamrolls him. “It doesn’t matter. Even if you were, I’m going to take some . . . insurance, shall we say.”

“Why not just kill me?” Thomas spits. Excellent idea, Doc, poke the murderous lady with a stick like a god damn hornet’s nest, the tiny Virgil in his brain hisses. Her smile, somehow, only widens, and that’s . . . that can’t be good, can it? Smiles are supposed to be good! They’re supposed to make you happy, but all Thomas feels is creeping dread and pain, so much pain, and -

Yeah. He’s . . . pretty sure he has a concussion.

“Because if I kill you, you get to take the easy way out. Your suffering will end. But unlike you, I don’t put limits on my science. I know how to cause you the maximum amount of pain.”

Thomas eyes the toxin gun, but the on-screen woman just laughs. “Not yet, Thomas. We need something from you, first.”

“You already took Roman,” Thomas says. “What more can you possibly take from me?”

“You named it? You’re even weaker than I thought.”

“He told me his name, he’s not an it, he’s not a thing for you to play with and - and I -”

There’s a strange sinking feeling in Thomas’s chest as the woman onscreen laughs. “I knew you were emotional, Thomas, but I can’t believe this! It looks like I’ll have more hanging over your head than you thought.”

“You -”

“Say, Tommy-boy, have you heard from your precious little assistant recently?”

Thomas’s entire body flushes ice-cold and then white-hot, immediately struggling against his duct tape bindings despite the man tearing at his hair and shoving the gun into his neck and snapping at him to shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up before I do something we’re both gonna regret -

“Don’t you touch him!” Thomas snaps. “If you hurt him, I swear to God -”

“You’re not in a position to be making demands, and if you don’t calm down, I’ll paint your boring little lab bright red.” Thomas freezes, holding his entire body tensed like electricity is running through his blood.

There are footsteps on the stairs. “Doc? I got your text, what’s -”

“Virgil, run!” Thomas chokes. Virgil comes around the corner, holding his phone, staring at the screen in confusion. He looks up, eyes widening in horror as he takes in the scene.

“You know what to do,” the woman onscreen says. The other woman lifts her tranquilizer gun, and Thomas is sure that he’s screaming, his mouth is open and sound is coming out but his blood is rushing through his ears and his heart is pounding like waves against a boat in rough sea and he can’t - he can’t -

Virgil turns to run, but the tranquilizer dart hits in him the back of the neck and he collapses like a sack of bricks. The woman lowers her gun and jerks her head at the two remaining conscious, unoccupied mercenaries, who step forward and grab Virgil.

“Let him go!” Thomas screams, and his throat feels raw and his chest feels raw and his wrists are rubbed raw and his soul feels hollow and raw, like he’s been scraped out with a jagged piece of metal and only an empty shell remains. Virgil’s head lolls against his chest as they drag him down the grotto tunnel, and Thomas struggles and screams and stares after them until Virgil is out of sight.

His face is damp, and his eyes are burning, and he isn’t sure if it’s blood from his head wound or tears or some strange, morbid mixture of both.

“The greatest torture of which I can conceive,” the woman onscreen says, and it takes him a moment to realize that oh, she’s talking to me, “is to leave you alive, knowing that your precious little protégé is with me, and that there is nothing you can do about it.” She leans forward, and any trace of a smile is gone. “If you try to come after me, I will kill him. If you call the authorities, I will kill him. I already found you, Thomas. Don’t think I’m not watching. If I catch so much as a whiff of you planning something, his blood will be on your hands. Do you understand me?”

Thomas, numb and shocked, can’t even respond. “Knock him out and bring the specimens back to me,” the woman onscreen says.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He doesn’t even feel the tranquilizer dart hit his neck, but he welcomes the sweeping darkness.

(Summary: Evil Scientist Lady has been spying on Thomas and she finds the entrance to the grotto where our mer friends have been hiding. She sends her assistant and several armed thugs to invade the lab, they drug Roman with tranquilizers and kidnap him. Thomas gets knocked around a lot and is mocked for being an ethical scientist and caring about people by Evil Scientist Lady and she gloats at him through Evil Facetime before kidnapping Virgil in the same way they did Roman, knocking Thomas unconscious, and leaving him tied to his lab chair. During this whole scene, Patton is out in the open ocean hunting and Logan is safely hidden in Virgil's room.)

#starshinewrites #lovely dark and deep #romantic analogical #sanders sides #platonic TLAMP

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julies-butterflies · 4 years ago

Note

“One of us is starting to fall asleep.”-jukebox?

cuddle dialogue prompts ( no longer accepting ) ( read on ao3 )

By now, Julie knows that Luke and sleep don’t exactly get along.

Like... peanut butter and coleslaw. Studying and roller coasters. Alex and high school athletics. Luke and sleep are polar opposites, and flat-out don’t have time for each other. Whatever fundamental sequence of Luke’s DNA, whatever weird criss-cross firing of neurons in his head looks at a good night’s sleep, and decides, “nope, not for me...”

Well, Julie doesn’t get it, but that’s how Luke’s made. Apparently, it’s how he’s always been, even when he was alive. Everyone else just has to deal with it.

“You’re keeping me up,” she announces, drawing her fuzzy blanket tighter around her shoulders.

Luke’s head shoots up, surprised — and sure, he’s got a right to be, considering it’s almost two in the morning. No sane person would be up this late. Not by choice, anyways... and Julie isn’t choosing to be awake herself. Something inside of her — one of those lightbulbs in her chest that blaze bright whenever the boys are near, that can feel them like a low, humming frequency even when they’re out of sight — is still awake, and buzzing. Late nights are like this. Whenever Luke can’t put himself to sleep — whether his brain is too loud, or his body too charged with energy — Julie feels it. She doesn’t want to, and definitely doesn’t enjoy it... but this is what her life has become. Being kept awake half the night by cute, insomniac ghosts.

He lowers his pencil slowly, and pulls his notebook against his chest. Luke sucks his cheeks, looking sheepish.

“Sorry. I, uhh, I was just —“ He gestures vaguely around the darkened studio. A few faint snores echo from the loft, where Alex has set up a private space for himself. Reggie is face down on the sofa in a pile of blankets, hugging them to his chest like a kangaroo protecting its baby. (Julie’s going to have to get him a stuffed animal to snuggle one of these days; half the reason Luke doesn’t sleep, she suspects, is because Reggie’s such a blanket hog.)

The studio is dark except for a single light, glowing in the corner of the room. Luke is curled up there, with his notebook against his knees… but he wasn’t writing when Julie slipped in. He was glaring down at the page like it personally offended him. Now, he sets the notebook aside without a second glance, turning his full attention on her.

“Just felt like there was a song in my head, and I had to get it out. But it’s, uhh…” He gives his shaggy head a shake. “Not coming.”

“Maybe ‘cause you’re exhausted.” Julie crosses her arms. “It’s way past bedtime, Luke.”

“I’m a ghost, though.” He spreads his arms wide and leans back in his seat, like that’s something to be proud of. “Ghosts don’t have bedtimes.”

Without blinking, Julie crosses over to the couch and gives it a firm kick.

“Reggie? When’s your bedtime?”

Reggie snorts, popping his head up. “Ten-thirty,” he mutters… before faceplanting in the blankets again.

Luke rolls his eyes. “Reggie can have a bedtime if he wants to. I’m a free agent.”

“You’re an insomniac, and should probably talk to someone.”

“You know any good ghost doctors?”

Julie’s eye twitches. “We’ll find one.”

Tipping his head back towards the ceiling, Luke clicks his tongue. “I dunno, Jules, it’s been a while since my last checkup… I don’t got time for all the bells and whistles, you know? They’re gonna take that little hammer to my knee, and it’s gonna go right through me… they're gonna look for my heartbeat and be real confused... probably try to give me some spooky X-rays…” He gasps, and bolts upright. “Julie, they’re gonna find out I don’t have a skeleton!”

Okay, thinks Julie, the late hour is definitely getting to his head.

“Is that your excuse?”

The unexpected voice from the darkness sends them both jumping out of their skin. Luke flails, nearly falling out of his chair; blinking up at the loft, Julie’s eyes widen as a phenomenal mess of bedhead peeks out over the railing.

“We all know you’re afraid of needles. You haven’t had a booster shot in thirty years, Luke.” Alex glares down at them both. “Now, either shut up or go away, some of us are trying to sleep!”

Reggie holds up a hand, and mumbles something like “agreed,” into his pillow.

Clapping her palm over her mouth, Julie exchanges a sheepish glance with Luke. It takes every ounce of her self-control not to burst out laughing — Alex might actually start throwing things at them — but from the way Luke’s shoulders shake, she doesn’t trust him to hold out.

“Okay, sorry, we’re leaving,” she says in an hushed rush… and, before Luke can say another word, she snags him by the arm and pulls him with her.

They slip out the doors of the studio, and break into the humid night air. May in Los Angeles is just beginning to get hot -hot; warm enough to justify tank tops instead of sweatshirts, flip-flops instead of monster slippers. Julie’s pajamas aren’t anything interesting — Luke’s seen her in worse — but under the cool moonlight, his eyes still drink her in as if seeing her for the first time.

“You sleep with all those necklaces on?” he asks.

Okay, maybe he is seeing her for the first time, because Julie’s slept with her jewelry on since, like… sixth grade.

“You’re just noticing?”

“They’re pretty in the moonlight,” he replies, like it’s a foregone conclusion; then his brows furrow. “What if they choke you?”

“That’s not how it works, Luke.”

“Sure it is! All they need to do is get a little tangled up —“ He mimes, presumably, Julie doing acrobatics in her sleep. “And wham, you end up all strangled to death! I know we’ve got a gimmick, Julie, but we don’t gotta make it a full-phantom band so soon.”

“You say that like you’ve got plans for my death.”

“I mean…” He shrugs, the picture of innocence. “Not in the near future, but, y’know, we can't have you out-aging us…”

“Oh,” she says, beginning the long trek up the pathway to the house. “So I’ve got… two years before you guys decide to kill me. That’s reassuring.”

Luke follows after her, their footsteps echoing together. “Eh, we could stretch it to five. Six, tops. You’re tiny, you’ve still got a few good years left in you. Not like you’re gonna go all grandma on us too soon.”

Julie gasps, and swats at him. Luke accepts the hit to the chest with dignity, biting back a grin. He looks unfairly handsome in the moonlight… and Julie refuses to think about that, because it opens up a wole Pandora’s Box of issues, ranging from the obvious (he’s a ghost eternally trapped at seventeen and, unless he somehow comes back to life through the power of music, I am going to get older than him someday) to the serious (he’s keeping me up at two in the morning).

Luke isn’t handsome. He’s a sleepless menace, and Julie shouldn’t entertain him a second longer.

They reach her door. Somehow, they come to a stop at exactly the same time, turning towards each other. Julie tugs her blanket tighter around her bare shoulders. Luke reaches out, and pulls the door open for her.

“I guess —“ he says.

“Yeah,” Julie agrees quickly. “Sounds good.”

“Great.”

“Goodnight, then?”

“Yeah. Goodnight.”

They smile at each other for a second, close-lipped and quiet… before something in Julie breaks, and she lays a hand on his arm. Somehow, he’s always so warm under her touch, so solid. He feels like a promise always kept… a steadiness, a certainty. A comfort.

“Come on,” she says softly, taking them both by surprise. “My bed has room for two.”

---------

He’s still so very warm, in bed next to her, with their legs tangled and bodies brushing whenever they move. It’s too humid for covers, so Julie’s got her favorite sheet, instead. As soon as Luke sees it, he billows it up into the air, and lets it fall down on top of them both like a parachute. Julie claps a hand over her mouth to hide her giggles. Even in the darkness of her bedroom — lit by the dimly glowing fairylights she only put on to keep Luke from tripping over her carpet — his grin is blinding. As the sheet flutters down over them both, she stretches her arms up to welcome it; he laughs so loudly, it’s a good thing her dad and brother can’t hear.

“This,” she huffs, once they’re both hiding under the covers, “this isn’t what we should be doing. It’s two in the morning.”

“Yeah. You’re right. Totally right.” Luke’s quiet for a moment — before shaking the covers again, causing a wave of air to roll over them. He makes a ridiculous whoosh! noise, and Julie snorts.

“Stop!” She swats at his shoulder again; the sound is harsher than the impact. Luke yelps and curls in on himself, feigning a mortal injury. Over his groans and moans and “Julie, how could you”s, Julie can’t restrain another fit of giggles.

Oh god, she’s gone for this boy. She really is.

It’s two in the morning, and she’s in hysterics in her bedroom over a boy no one else in the world can see… and he’s smiling at her like she’s the brightest star blazing in the sky, and his legs are brushing hers, and she can feel the pulse of his heartbeat, the warmth of his breath… which shouldn’t be possible, because he’s dead.

Luke reaches up. Gently, he brushes a stray curl from Julie’s temple. His hand lingers, and Julie feels dizzy.

“This feels like heaven,” he says softly.

Julie’s breath catches.

“I… thought you said you’d never get there.”

“Yeah, well…” When he chuckles, his breath ruffles her hair. “I’m not much of a believer in the ‘all rockstars go to heaven’ kinda thing… I don’t even know if I buy into that stuff, period.” He shrugs, and glances down, at the bare inches of space in between them. “But this… is what it’d feel like, I think. Right here, with you. This kind of forever.”

“With...” She swallows past a throat that is suddenly too dry, forcing words together in a head that reverberates with heaven and you. Forever. God, can they make this last forever?

Instead of speaking, her hand finds Luke’s in the darkness. Their palms press; their fingers intertwine. He is restless beneath her touch, all calluses and carelessness and nervous energy… but Julie holds him until she feels him relax, then slowly raises their hands up between them.

“I’d like that,” she whispers. “To stay here forever.”

His eyes shine bright. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She swallows. “As long as it’s with you.”

These are exactly the sort of confessions that could not be made any time other than late in the night, or early in the morning — that funny liminal space of existence, the hours where nothing is really real, and everything feels like it matters too much. Julie is floating, and Luke is right here with her. He’s smiling inches away from her face… and if she wanted to lean over, to close the distance between them, it would be as easy as breathing.

She doesn’t, though, because this moment feels sacred. She won’t claim it selfishly for herself — won’t turn it into something it’s not. This moment is shared, between her and Luke... secrets whispered in the dark for their ears alone. It should stay that way.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes softly, like it’s all he knows for sure.

“You’re amazing,” she replies, in the same voice.

“You’re a star.”

“You’re inspiring.”

“You make me feel alive again.”

“So do you.”

They exhale in the silence, the words floating through the air around them. Julie imagines she can see them glowing in the darkness. If she wanted, she could pluck them out of thin air, tuck them away in her dream box and save them forever. This feels like the sort of moment that belongs there — halfway between dream and waking, almost too good to be true.

For a while, they don’t talk at all. Luke plays with her hair, and Julie twines their fingers. Their breaths match each other’s in the silence. It feels like floating down a lazy river, and slowly, Julie can feel herself being carried away.

She’s only aware of her eyes getting heavier when Luke’s fingers graze her brow, and she can’t force her lids open to look at him.

“Looks like one of us is starting to fall asleep,” Luke teases, his voice soft.

Julie humms, and feels herself smile. “You.”

“Not me.” His voice is smiling, too. “You.”

“You need t’ sleep.” She exhales, and sees it ruffle his hair like leaves on a tree. His nose scrunches up. He doesn’t look drowsy — not like he’s drowning in it, like she is — but he’s not wide awake, either. His head is quiet, his soul is calm; the hive of bees buzzing in Julie’s chest has given up the ghost for tonight. (Little Luke-shaped bees, with beanies and guitars, who keep flying into everything because they’ve got too much energy…)

She bursts into giggles again at the thought. They spill from her lips like honey; she’s too tired to silence them, nevermind hide her grin. Instead, she slumps against Luke, muffling herself against his shoulder. He smells like pine needles and sunshine. His arms wrap around her back to steady her, and she can feel him smiling against her, and Julie thinks…

Julie thinks…

Forever.

“What’s so funny?” he murmurs into the crown of her head.

“Bees,” she replies, and giggles again.

“Oh yeah?” He hums, like this makes perfect sense. “I mean, yeah, they’re pretty hilarious.”

“Mmm.” She presses her face against his shoulder, and decides to stay there. “Mmm.”

For a long moment, he’s completely still — like the world’s most realistic stuffed animal, the coziest pillow ever made — before his hand tentatively begins to massage between her shoulder blades, running up and down her spine.

“You good, Julie?” he murmurs softly, and Julie humms again.

“Stay with me,” she manages to say. Forever. “Sleep here… with me.”

Luke’s caress feels like a lullaby. The lips that graze her temple are a promise.

“Don’t worry, Julie,” he murmurs. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Somehow, forever feels good enough for tonight.

#jukebox #juke #my fics #jatp #julie and the phantoms #luke patterson #julie molina #this is... The Softest

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felassan · 4 years ago

Text

Mass Effect development insights and highlights from Bioware: Stories and Secrets from 25 Years of Game Development

This is the Mass Effect version of this post.

[In case you can’t read it the subtitle in the bottom left logo above is “Guardians of the Citadel”]

Note: Drug use is mentioned.

Cut for length.

Mass Effect 1

ME began its life in a vision document in fall 2003

Codenamed “SFX”

Conceived of by Casey Hudson and a core team from KotOR. Its genesis was the intention to create an epic sci-fi RPG in an original setting that BioWare owned (so they could have full creative control), and in a setting that was conceived of first and foremost as a video game

Initially players could control any squadmate, but they wanted it to be about Shep and for players to be focused on Shep being a battlefield commander, rather than on switching bodies

By the start of 2004 its story was shaping up. Initially humans landed on Mars in 2250 and discovered evidence of an ancient alien race and a powerful substance, Black Sand, which rapidly advanced tech to the point that FTL travel was possible. (My note: obviously now the Prothean artifacts on Mars & associated mass effect force tech enabled this in the final canon, but I wonder if aspects of the ‘Black Sand’ naming-type & powerful substance stuff was rolled into red sand from final canon) Humans were suddenly capable of travel to multiple star systems and made contact with a multitude of other species. At the start of the first game, these species together with humans had a fragile peace, with focus placed on the political center of the galaxy, a hub known as Star City, later renamed the Citadel

Multiplayer was a vision for the series as far back as 2003. The plan was for ME1, an Xbox exclusive at launch, to take advantage of the platform’s online components. Early designs saw players meeting in one of the central hubs to interact and trade items in their otherwise SP adventures

By 2006 it had the name ME and the story was more specific, with the theme of conflict between organic and synthetic lifeforms. The story’s scope now stretched across 3 games and included scope for full co-op MP

They tried to do MP in every game, discussing it from the get-go, but it always just fell by the wayside. “When you’re trying to build something that is a new IP, on a new platform, with a new engine, you’ve got to really focus on the core elements of the game.”

The conversation system prototype was made in Jade Empire, and some of ME’s earliest writing was done in an old JE build. At first there was no conversation wheel. Paragon was “Friendly” and Renegade “Hostile”. In the prototype Shep was a silent unnamed Spectre. Many conversations in the prototype about the player’s choice in smuggling a weapon through Noveria made it into the game

In said prototype a merchant referred to themselves as “this one”, though the word hanar never appeared. The PC in it also had the option to end a conversation with “I should go”. In the prototype also, Harkin was voiced by Mark Meer

An early version of the Mako got used as the krogan truck in ME2

Early concepts of the Citadel were drawn in pencil by CH. A piece of concept art of its final design was painted based on a photo of a sculpture near Aswan, Egypt

As with any new IP naming it was a struggle. They put out a call to all staff for ideas, did polls, made a name generator that combined words that they liked in random ways and made pretend logos of ones they liked in Photoshop to see if they could make themselves love the name or find visual potential in it. (Some of these names are in the pic at the top of this post.) CH liked “Unearthed” as it was a reference to Prothean ruins dug up on Mars and humanity’s ascendance going away from Earth. They knew the game would have a central space station featuring prominently so some of the ideas were based on that - “The Citadel”, “The Optigon”, “The Oculon”. “Element” was another one they had in mind due to the rare substance in the game

CH: “I was a big fan of John Harris’ book Mass, which had epic-scaled sci-fi ideas, so that was a word that came up often. Many of the names came from the idea that the IP featured a fifth fundamental physical force (in addition to the known four of gravitational, electromagnetic, strong nuclear and weak nuclear) so the word ‘effect’ came up pretty often.” Ultimately none of the ideas really felt right. One Monday morning they were going over the names and Greg Zeschuk said he had an idea on the weekend: “Mass Effect!” CH: “I said, ‘I don’t hate it’, which in the naming process is a high compliment. And it stuck!”

CH on Shep’s Prothean vision from the beacon: “It was hard to imagine how we would do this. CG was - and is - really expensive. Instead I wanted to try doing it through photography and video editing. So I went to a local grocery store and bought a few packages of the weirdest looking meat that I could find. Then I set up a little photoshoot in my basement, complete with some electronics parts and some red wine for juicyness.” He used these props to create a video sequence where the photos were rapidly cycled and blurred, along with production paintings, to create the scary vision an organic/machine experiment on the Protheans. These mashups were also used as inspiration for concept artists and level designers who were working on these themes

Tali used to be called Talsi

On the licensing side they often joke that they’re licensing N7 not “Mass Effect” due to N7′s popularity

There was a confidential internal guide to the IP in 2007 to help devs along and summarize/synthesize the vision etc. Some excerpts from it are shown in the book and this is the first time the public have ever seen them

Early versions of Asari had hair

Asari were designed as a nod to classic TV sci-fi (with human actors wearing obvious makeup and prosthetics to play aliens)

The turian design guideline was “we want them to be birds of prey”. They also wanted a range of alien types, some close to human like Asari, while others were to be a lot further away, like turians

BioWare patented the conversation wheel, which was a first for them. CH had been frustrated with reviews of Jade Empire that said that the actioncentric game was too wordy [with its list dialogue]. “I’m like, story is words. [...] What is it about our games that is making people feel like they’re wordy?” Then he thought “In a game you kind of need to feel like you’re continuing to play it. Maybe you should continue feeling like you’re playing it actively into the dialogue.” “[The wheel] kind of gave a new experience with dialogue when you did start to react based on emotion, and that’s ultimately what we’re trying to bring out in our games”

The original krogan concept was based on a bat “with a really wide squidgy face. We just used its face on top of this weird body and it kinda worked”

Geth musculature was based on fiber-optic cables, with flexible plates of armor attached

The vision for the IP was 80s sci-fi inspired space opera

The concept art of Saren lifting Shep by the throat inspired a similar scene in-game. The staging wasn’t planned til designers saw that art

A squadmate with Shepard on the way to meet Ash in an old storyboard was called Carter. Early name of Kaidan or Jenkins?

Bono from U2 was kinda instrumental in bringing us ME lol

Finding the right cover art for ME1 was notably tricky

Matt Rhodes got his start drawing helmets for ME1, including one which would become Shep’s “second face”. He estimates he drew between 250-270 different ones

Some of the sounds in-game were people smashing watermelons with sledgehammers and sticking fists into various goos

The audio team had fun trying to slip the iconic main theme into unexpected places throughout the MET. “We were very aware of how powerful that track was for the fans and it was tempting to overuse it for any moment we wanted to make really emotional”.

The theme was creatively repurposed in ME3: slowed down and reworked as the ambient sound for the SR-2. “If you listen to it for a really long time, just stand in the Normandy and listen, you’ll actually hear the notes change slowly. It doesn’t sound like music, it sounds like a background ambiance, but it’s there.” (My note: Well no wonder the Normandy feels so much like home?? 😭 sneaky..)

Bug report: “Mako Tornado”. There wasn’t enough friction between the tires and the ground, causing testers to lose control of the vehicle and send it spinning into the air like a tornado. “As it turns, the front end comes up, and then it starts spinning and spinning and spinning and spinning faster and faster and faster until it just flies up in the sky” (My note: Sounds like a regular day in the Mako to me)

Cerberus originally had a bigger role in this game. It was cut but they had a whole explorable outpost. “I called it Misery,” says Mac Walters, “It was this planet with a little outpost that said ‘Welcome to Misery’”. Everything on the outpost was shit - dirty worn stuff, no windows, no kitchen, the vehicle bay was open to the elements etc

The Reaper sound is literal garbage. Some audio designers went on a recording trip to a national park. One of them got fixated on a garbage can, “a metal bear-proof receptacle with a heavy lid that creaked horribly when opened”. “It was like, ominous, spooky, tonal and almost musical. I decided to throw a mic into the garbage and record it moving. I didn’t know what it was going to be until later”

They were making lots of noises to record like throwing logs and rocks around. An old couple peered at them through the window of their camper van in the woods and must have called the cops because then the cops showed up, pulled them over and told them to stop. The cops towed their car (the driver’s plates were Cali plates and expired), drove them to Edmonton outskirts and then the audio producer Shauna got a call and had to go pick them up “like three little boys”. “We got a stern talking to”. Once back they were playing around with the garbage sound, editing it etc. Casey heard it and proclaimed “That’s the sound of the Reapers”

Preston Watamaniuk: “There are things I could have done to Mass 1 to make it an infinitely better game with better UIs” and some simple cuts and changes. “But when you’re living with it, it’s very hard to see those things”

BioWare Labs

As social media and smartphone games exploded, BioWare dedicated a small team dedicated to exploring opportunities here - BioWare Labs

Mass Effect: Galaxy used a unique graphic art style and static visual presentation common in visual novels. It has the distinction of being the only iOS game BW have made during their first 25 years

Scrapped ideas were a 3rd person space shooter called Mass Effect: Corsair and 2 DA titles - a strategy game and a top-down dungeon crawler starring young Wynne. (My note: Maybe the corsairs stuff was rolled into Jacob’s backstory in 2, the Alliance Corsairs)

Corsair was a very short-lived project that never got its feet under it. It was a spin-off on Nintendo DS featuring a behind-the-ship perspective and branching dialogue. At one point it had MP. The idea behind it was basically “ME: Freelancer” - fly your ship around, do missions, get credits. It had a limited branching story but was a gameplay-centered experience intended to fill the gap between ME1 and 2. That gap ended up being filled by Galaxy

Galaxy and Corsair’s smaller screen allowed concept artists to use bold colors and a simplistic character design style to help those games stand out from Shep’s story

Nick Thornborrow did some art for Corsair but was worried his art style didn’t fit ME. He moved to DA where he feels his art style fits better

Lots of BioWare VAs and even a lead writer and the VO director are drawn from Edmonton’s local community theater scene, which is vibrant. Think this is how Mark Meer got involved

Mass Effect 2

Player choices carrying over was a first for BW

Dirty Dozen-inspired plot

Its plot is a web of conditionals (see Suicide Mission)

Was more of a shooter than anything BW had made since Shattered Steel

There was 2 camps on the team, those who wanted to push combat and systems forward and redefine the ME experience and those who wanted to make a true sequel, with the same gameplay and systems but a new story. Karin Weekes: “I think it ended up being a good push-pull. It felt like a pretty healthy creative conflict”

“ME2 was a game you could hold up to someone who argues that games aren’t a serious medium and go ‘Oh yeah, then why is Martin Sheen in this?’” Sheen was their first pick for TIM

The idea for TIM came from a mash-up of concepts CH had collected over the years. The name “Illusive” originally came from his pitch for naming DAO’s Eclipse engine, a word inspired by Obi-Wan’s line “It’s not about the mission, Master. It’s something... elsewhere. Elusive”. “I thought, what if we called our next engine 'Elusive', but used an ‘I’, and then it’s like ‘Illusion’. [...] I still really like the word with an ‘I’ and what it conjures”

When ME1 DLC was in production, CH had been watching a lot of CNN, specifically Anderson Cooper. “How is one guy travelling to all these places and never looking tired and always being able to speak with clarity?” CH says it seemed almost superhuman. “What if there was someone who is the absolute maximum of the things you would aspire to be, but also the worst of humanity?” Cooper, though not evil, became an inspiration for TIM down to the gray hair and piercing blue eyes

Inspiration for TIM’s behind-the-scenes role pulling political strings came from Jack Bauer’s brother Graem in 24. Graem “can call up the president and tell him what to do and hang up, because he’s so connected and so influential”. Sheen had played a president and his performance brought gravitas and wisdom to the role. He had quit smoking, but the character smokes. He didn’t want to fake it, but he also didn’t want to smoke, “so he actually asked for a cigarette” to hold so he could stop his words to take drags with natural cadence

Writing was still pushing to write and revise lines hours before VO started. A series of problems like injury and some writers leaving for other opportunities left it so that Karin, Lukas Kristjanson and editor Cookie Everman hand to land the story safely, with PW helping where they could. Lukas: “We took over the writing bug and task list, and I can’t stress enough how much [Karin and Cookie] did to get ME2 out the door. There’s no part of that thing we didn’t touch”. Karin: “That was the most dramatic 2 weeks of my life”

Initial fan reaction when they started promo-ing ME2 was very negative because people didn’t want to know about new chars like Jack and Mordin. “[fans were like] ‘Get them out of here. We want our characters from the first game’. But then when they played them, those became some of the most popular chars [of the series]”

Concept art of Thane has an idea annotation saying “Face can shapeshift?”

At one point when designing Thane concept artists sent multiple variations of him to the team asking them to vote on which was the most attractive

Most of the Normandy crew was written by lead level designer Dusty Everman. Lukas gave him advice in the evenings between bugs

BioWare Montreal made ME2 and 3 cinematics

CC for Shep was based on tools used by char designers to create in-game chars. Under the hood similar tools existed to create aliens

Aliens were much easier to animate than humans. When something is human it’s very difficult to make it look realistic and you can see all the mistakes and everything

Over the holiday period in 2007 CH worked out a diagram on a single piece of paper that would define the entire scope and structure of the game. The diagram is included in the book

Bug report: “I shot a krogan so hard that his textures fell off”. At one point shotgun blast damage was applied to each of the pellets fired, and shot enemies ended up with just the default checkerboard Unreal texture on them after their textures got blown off

Blasto was meant to be 1 step above an Easter egg but his fan popularity prompted them to bring him back in ME3

They rewrote chunks of Jack 2 days before she went to VO. She was the only one they could change because all the other NPCs were recorded. They redesigned her mission by juggling locked NPC lines and changing Shep’s reactions by rewriting text paraphrases to change the context of the already-recorded VO

Lukas snuck obscure nods ito ME2′s distress calls. In the general distress call for the Hugo Gernsback, there’s BW’s initial’s and Edmonton’s phone number backwards. In a fault in a beacon protocol there’s the initials and backward phone number from Tommy Tutone’s “Jenny”. In 2 other general distress calls there’s initials and numbers from Glenn Miller Orchestra’s “Pennsylvania 6-5000″ and initials and numbers from Geddy Lee and Rush’s “2112″ respectively

Mass Effect 3

“The end of an era marks the beginning of another”

ME3 “marked the end of Shep’s story”

Saying bye to Shep was as difficult for devs as it was for players

JHale’s final VO session included Anderson’s death and romanced Garrus’ goodbye. “We were in the session and we both just started crying”, Caroline says. “I couldn’t come on the line to give her notes because I was crying, and she was crying. And so there was just this minute-long pause of like, nothing, nothing, nothing - just silence through the airwaves. And then I came on and just told her that I was crying and she said ‘I’m crying!’” They talked about these anecdotes also here on the N7 Day reunion panel

The Microsoft Kinect voice support required devs to teach Kinect hundreds of commands in a variety of accents across multiple languages. The result was useful but made for some awkward moments. Numerous players accidentally said “geth” or “quarian” while making a particular decision and accidentally killed Tali

MP chars were voiced by cops and military people

The helmet on one of the MP chars was originally designed for cancelled project Revolver

The payload device at the end needed to attach to the Citadel while essentially serving as a giant trigger. “It ended up becoming quite the engineering feet just to visualize how this thing would move and connect to the Citadel”

Concept artists explored creating an anti-team, where Kai Leng was almost an anti-Shepard essentially, with an elite squad to counteract your team. This idea never went beyond concept phase

ME3 Special Edition was released on Nintendo Wii U exclusively. This exclusive version of the game includes Genesis 2 (a sequel to the original Genesis comic) and unique gameplay features that took advantage of the touchscreen GamePad. For years Sonic Chronicles: Dark Brotherhood had had the honor of being BW’s only game made for a Nintendo console

FemShep regrettably didn’t feature in major ME marketing til ME3. Later releases like DAI, MEA and Anthem have taken increasing care not to gender their protagonists in cover art

To capture combat sounds they took a trip to CFB Wainwright, a military base southeast of Edmonton. They got a big tour of it and were allowed to record anything they could find. The tour ended with them getting to drive and shoot tanks (real shells). The force of doing that sent waves through Joel Green, he felt his whole chest compress when it went off; the perfect sound for the Black Widow! After the trip the soldiers let him keep the shell he fired and it’s been passed on like a torch to various devs since

Kakliosaurs began life as a joke in the writers’ room after John Dombrow placed a Grunt figure on a t-rex toy he had on his desk. Lore was brainstormed to justify the mash-up before someone asked, “Why don’t we put this in the game?” They loved it so much Karin had custom coffee mugs made

Bug report: For a while Tali’s final romance scene would fire when she was supposed to be dead

“Balancing combat: how designers in ME3 entered an ‘arms race’” - the solution to players feeling OP vs players feeling frustrated by really strong enemies is to find a good middle ground, but for designers Corey Gaspur and Brenon Holmes, it was war. Brenon designed enemies, Corey designed guns. Corey “was obsessed with bigger, heavier guns. We had this sort of informal competition where he’d make this crazy overturned gun that would just murder all the enemies, and then I tuned some stuff up to compensate”

Brenon had to invent new ways to “stop Corey” and this led to the Phantoms. Corey had in turn designed consumable rockets that could wipe out entire waves of enemies. He must’ve figured this would make short work of Brenon’s space ninjas, but Brenon had other plans: “I had just added the ability for her to cut rockets [when Corey was playing MP and he was watching]. She cut the rocket in half... Corey just turns and looks at me and is like: ‘Really dude? I just shot a rocket at this Phantom and she’s fine? Not even damaged? Zero damage?’”

This friendly rivalry helped elevate ME3′s gameplay. Corey had a knack for making a gun feel so good to fire it had his fellow designers scrambling to keep up. It was his version of balancing. Before Corey sadly passed away he mentored Boldwin Li in all things weapon design and the arms race continued

Corey designed the Arc Pistol. It was causing problems for enemies because it was too powerful. It seemed hell bent on staying that way, Boldwin would tune down all its stats and it was still doing 3x the damage it should have been doing. “I was like ‘What the hell?’, and then I looked closer. It secretly fired 3 bullets for every pull of the trigger! Corey, you sneaky jerk”

The day it launched there were midnight launch parties across North America including one near the BW building. Numerous devs sat at long tables greeting fans and signing autographs as the fans picked up preorders. When midnight struck the line was long enough that it took several hours for some fans to get their game. One particular fan is remembered: “It was 3am. Some guy drove up from Calgary with his friends. He was like one of the last people in line. I think he was sort of tired-drunk. He threw himself across the tables, pulled up his shirt and shouted ‘Guys, sign my abs!’ And like I did, because he waited so long. It felt impolite not to. So I hope he enjoyed his copy of ME3″

For designing Protheans concept artists had free reign to design something that read as ancient

Before the concept art team had the story of the game to work toward, they explored wild ideas of their own including an image of the crew stealing back the Normandy to go after the Reapers

Jen Cheverie was testing scenes and was initially excited to be testing Mordin scenes, til she saw she was testing the Renegade version of his death. “This is even before like all of the audio and everything was in, so you didn’t even have the sad music. I remember sitting at my desk and my hands just went to my face when I saw that the gun Shep pulls on Mordin is the gun he gives Shep in ME2. I burst into tears and was crying for the rest of the day. People are waving to me as they walk by and I’m like, ‘It’s ok, I’m just killing my best friend’”

There’s a segment called “Shepard’s story ends”. Casey on the ending: “There’s a whole bunch of things that come together to make it incredibly tense and emotional for players. I think the biggest one was the sense of finality, that whatever it was that happened in that very last moment... was it.”

Wrapping up the story was a massive feat. In a way all of ME3 is an ending. Its final moments were the players’ last with a char they’d been with all the way from Eden Prime

“And while the critical reception of the game was extremely positive, many fans were unsatisfied with the ending, which became one of the most controversial in the history of games.” CH: “We were, on one hand, at the end of a marathon trying to finish the game and the series. But as devs we also knew that there would be more. We knew that we would continue to tell the story. In retrospect, we didn’t fully appreciate the tremendous sense of finality that it would have for people”. He envisioned an ending that posed new questions, something in the tradition of high sci-fi that left players dreaming about what that particular galaxy’s future could hold. “Frankly, there’s a lot more that we could have and should have done to honor the work players put in, to give them a stronger sense of reward and closure”

AAA games are massive undertakings with a million moving parts. Somehow they come together but even the best-planned projects don’t turn out quite like devs hope. From start to end video game production is a series of compromises. It’s rare if not impossible for devs to ship a game they’re entirely happy with. “I think that people imagine that when you finish a game, it’s exactly the way you wanted it to be. But whether people end up loving or hating the final result, we work hard to finish it the best we can, knowing that there’s a lot we would have wanted to do better. I think that’s true of any creative work”

As the dust settled after the initial reaction to the ending and later its epilogue, meant to show the wide-reaching ripple effects of Shep’s final choice, “players emerged mostly asking for one thing”. CH: “Now, most of what we hear, after both ME3 and MEA, is ‘Hey, just go make more Mass Effect’. And that to me is the most important thing. Knowing that players want to return to the ME universe is what inspires us to press on and imagine what comes next”

Mass Effect: Andromeda

By creating a new ME in a new galaxy the team was challenged to put their own visual stamp on the game while keeping it true to the franchise

Being the first ME game on a new gen of consoles meant for more detail

“Massive transport ships called arks populated with salarians, turians, humans, asari and quarians” made the risky jump to the Cluster

MEA was the first time BW had truly codeveloped across 3 studios: Edmonton, Montreal and Austin. The bulk of the work especially early on was done in Montreal, which was composed of a handful of Edmonton expats and heaps of experienced devs who joined from elsewhere specifically to bring a new ME experience to life. Series vets in Edmonton then came on to contribute writing, cinematics, design and QA, along with leadership from creative director Mac Walters and the core Production team. Austin writers and level designers also joined the fray

“It took a new team to take ME beyond the Milky Way”

Mac: “A lot of people in Montreal joined BW as fans of the franchise, so they just had this passion, and it felt like it was more like the days of Jade Empire, where a smaller younger team gets to do something for the first time. Even though it wasn’t necessarily a new IP for me, it felt fresh and new because of that. The team was just super excited to be working on it”

Early plans had the player exploring hundreds of worlds, procedurally generated, allowing for a nearly infinite variety of experiences. But as development wore on, it became clear that the game narrative required more specific, hand-touched level design on each world to keep the story focused and the experience engaging. “The plan was to give players numerous uncharted worlds to explore. Designers worked hard to come up with procedural elements that would make such planets special. Eventually the team made the difficult decision to abandon procedural planets in favor of more memorable hand-touched alien worlds, each with a specific story to tell”

One challenge was defining what ME meant without Shep. Care was given to include many of the MET’s key species. “Ryder recruited turian, asari, krogan and salarian followers”. Like Shep Ryder represents humanity’s hope for a peaceful coexistence among aliens who had long operated without human contact

Beginning with MEA the team decided that with few exceptions vehicles in ME have 6 wheels. Early Nomad concepts were bulkier. Later ones focused on its ability to move over its ability to protect itself from hostile fire, underlining the themes of exploration

German concept designer and auto-motive futurist Daniel Simon was contracted to create the Nomad and Tempest. The Tempest’s final design took inspo from the Concorde

Concepts for angaran fighter ships have the following notes: “Two doors swing open, wings rotate down to function as landing struts, the landing struts split open. It has a spinning turbine engine

Despite being set a galaxy away and some 600 years after Mordin’s death, there was a time when he had a cameo. It wasn’t cut due to running out of time however, it was cut due to drug references. John Dombrow explains: “One day I had to write a small quest for Kadara. I thought it’d be amusing if these 2 guys living way out on the fringes in a shack were growing plants for uh, medicinal purposes, and needed Ryder’s help with it. It occurred to me, wouldn’t it be amusing if Ryder had the option of actually trying ‘the medicine’ to see what would happen? And I thought, what if it turned into some hallucination that somehow involved SAM - like maybe SAM would sing? But why? How could I motivate that? Then it hit me. Who else in the ME game sings unexpectedly? MORDIN. As a nod to him I wrote SAM singing Modern Major-General. It got even better when our cine designer John Ebenger wanted to take it even further. Bless him, he came in on a Saturday to do a special hallucination showing Mordin himself. It was great. Til the fateful day we were told MEA had already been submitted to the ratings board. That’s when you declare things like drug references in your game. Mordin fell under that category which meant it was a no-go. We were too late”

Ryder’s white AI armor contrasts Shep’s iconic dark armor (intentional design)

Concept art for Ryder involved experiments with cloth (cloaks, ponchos, capes - “Pull here to release cloak”) and asymmetrical design elements

For alien design, there’s a few exceptions but humanoid figures are the ME standard and this persisted into MEA

Kett and angara concepts explored striking lines and textures

– From Bioware: Stories and Secrets from 25 Years of Game Development

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asscreeds · 4 years ago

Text

Heila - Chapter 1

“Heila,” an Old Norse verb meaning “to heal.”

Self-insert F!Eivor/Reader fic where the reader is a Dane from a clan with an unhinged leader that lands them in a heap of trouble, and are captured by Saxons after a failed raid. Eivor rescues the mortally wounded reader from certain death & with a little help from the Raven Clan, they are nursed back to health, and Eivor and Reader grow a little closer via helping eachother to overcome their traumas. Then inevitable lesbian pining and one or two (a little horny) dream sequences that suggest Eivor and the reader have actually known eachother for a very, very long time.

Reader is DFAB and uses she/her pronouns.

There are very specific trigger warnings for this chapter that are only referenced to later on in the story - graphic descriptions of violence, physical & psychological t/orture, religious fanaticism, wh/ipping, v/omit, blood, and minor/background character d/eath.

Read on AO3. i havent rlly posted fanfiction before on tumblr be nice to me

The morning waves broke calmly against the eastern shore of Cent, the salty sea breeze & sting of sand against your face and arms both familiar and calming to you; despite being weeks away from the place you once called home, it seemed the ocean would never change, no matter where you went. You could hear seabirds cry above you, and the gentle bustle of your impromptu settlement as your clanmates began to stir and prepare for the day to come. This was not your home, nor your intended destination when you had departed from your homeland - but, hopefully, you & your clan would make a home out of it yet. Originally you were to sail to Normandy but an unexpected and powerful storm threw your ship off course & you'd landed somewhere in England, according to your navigator, Vilmar.

Sitting around & watching the sun rise would not do much to help your people build a base camp. Before you could even get up, you heard footsteps in the sand behind you, and turned to find Gunnar. "There you are, y/n!" he bellowed, helping you to your feet as you giggled. "We've been looking for you for a meeting - needing your level head and all. We need supplies quickly," he said, quickly guiding you to your leader's tent, the both of you somehow avoiding bumping into clansmen carrying lumber, goods and the like. "Oh, needing my guidance for once, Gunnar? Or are you going to suggest we ride into the heart of a storm again?" you jested, elbowing his side as you walked up the green hillside. He made some sort of huffing sound, like a grumpy animal, and simply ushered you into the tent where your leader Frederik & Vilmar were already arguing.

"We need supplies, Vilmar! Else we'll all starve by the end of the week!" Frederik growled, slamming his fist into the table, sending little carved statuettes out of their places on the map.

Vilmar moved to speak, then saw you and Gunnar standing at the entrance of the tent, visibly deflating & waving the two of you over. "Hello Gunnar, y/n." Your arrival didn't seem to placate Frederik at all…

Vilmar continued with his thought. "I know we need supplies, Frederik, but the risks outweigh all rewards at the moment. We musn't rush in blindly going a-vikingr, we must make allies first and set up a trade route," he said, rearranging the statuettes to their original places. "We've sent scouts out to every corner of this kingdom, as far as we could, and every single one has come back with word of a potential allyship, and a warning that every single village here is armed to the teeth. We cannot afford to raid right now."

Frederik seethed quietly, seemingly first accepting Vilmar's words, then growing even more agitated. "And how long will it take,Vilmar, to establish a trade route?" he spat, staring down at the other man with something unreadable behind his eyes. Vilmar held his stare, then looked down at the map. "...A week."

The effect was instantaneous. Before you could even get a word in, Frederik stormed out of the tent, leaving the three of you bewildered, confused & frightened. You knew Frederik could be hellfire at his worst, and he'd always been obsessed with the tales of glory & kings that were told to children, and you had always chalked it up to him barely being 22 winters old, but this was something else. Sharing a worried look with your friends, you chased after him, & were met with a small crowd that had already gathered in the center of the encampment. Frederik's clear & raucous voice rang out over your clansmen, and you saw him pacing back & forth on a wooden platform. Like a king.

"Hear me, kinsmen! We may have landed in a strange land, but it is not an unknown land! We are upon the shores of England, the holy country," he spat out the world 'holy' like an insult, "and we are not the first Danes to do so, and we will not be the last. England is the same as any other land - full & ripe of pickings for the vikingr. Any and all of the able-bodied, you will ride the waterhorse with me to their Christ-House, and we will deprive them of their stores & silver!"

No, no, no, no, no. This was suicide.

Frederik leapt down from the platform, immediately heading for the armory, his wolf-fur cape billowing behind him as if he were a great hero from the old tales, though you knew he was anything but . This was not a good plan, nor a sound plan. He was insane if he thought a band of two dozen sea-soaked & exhausted Danes could pillage a monastery & live to tell the tale. You rushed ahead & grabbed his arm. He did not look at you.

"Frederik, please! Listen to me! This will not end well for you, nor for this clan! Follow through with Vilmar's plan instead, please, I am begging you -" you cried, and were met with the man shaking you off as if you were a fly. He turned to you with a wild look in his eye, forcing himself in your space, close enough for you to finally smell the ale on his breath & to see the dullness in his honey-brown eyes. "I have seen great glory in my dreams, y/n. I will not be denied it." You didn't know what to say, staring at him in shock. He looked at you again, and decided something, muttering something under his breath. "You will ride with me," he growled.

This shocked you out of whatever daze you were in. "What? No! I…" you yelped, but he had already turned from you and stormed off again. This was not good. You were never an adept fighter. Sure, you had trained once or twice in your early years, but you would never call yourself a drengr. But to go against your leader's word & break your oath to him would be a worse fate, consigning you to Helheim. Begrudgingly, you went off in search of armor & a weapon, the distant sound of thunder rumbling in the sky.

A few hours had passed, and to the best of all of your abilities, your clan had mustered up a small yet intimidating army. Maybe things would go right, and you'll topple their church like a house of cards, but you couldn't shake the ever-present feeling of something being wrong. Finishing the warrior-braid in your hair and tying it with a leather strip, you donned the leather & fur armor handed to you by Runa, your weaponsmith. It did not fit you perfectly, but still fit, and would serve its purpose and protect you yet from whatever weapons the English would use to defend themselves. Your weapons of choice, an axe & a flail, hung from the belt around your waist heavily, and you were not used to the weight of them. A shield adorned with your clans symbol, the stag, laid against your back like a mockery of a security blanket. Taking a swig of mead to warm your belly & calm your nerves, you give one last glance to your tent & personal belongings - the dried flower & a bag of jewelry (that you've had to hide from your kinsmen many times) from your mother, a lovingly-written & tear-stained letter from your father, among other things given to you by your friends & family as parting gifts before your departure from Denmark.

You did not know it would be the last time you would see them.

Taking a deep breath, you exited your tent and headed for the shore, where many of your clan had already hopped into the three longships, painted red & blue, the stark coloration of the paint looking even brighter against the dark waves of the sea. Were you looking at them any other time, you would have called the scene pretty, but not while you had to wade through knee-deep oceanwater to try and scramble up the side of one of them. You struggled for a bit before a hand grasped your arm and pulled you up, and you heard a familiar voice. "y/n? What are you doing here? You should be staying here, with the women & children!" Gunnar spoke, his voice hushed so that the figure of Frederik somewhere behind him could not hear. You could only send him a sad but stern look. "Frederik insisted." He looked at you for far too long, and you could almost hear him thinking - he knew that you were not a drengr, either. He made some sort of soft sound & pulled you fully up onto the boat, and turned back to face forward in his seat. You could not read the expression on his face.

You sat next to him, both looking forward to Frederik, who turned around as the rest of the drengr boarded the ships, his face somber for a split second before shifting to another, more spry and almost violent expression. His voice rang out against the waves, his blonde hair had already begun falling out of his warrior-braid, sending tendrils of it flying in the wind, and his iron armor shone brightly when the sun allowed it. He was a picturesque vikingr, one you would see in the margins of fairytale books.

"Hear me, kinsmen! Today we sail for Raculf Monastery, upon the Northeastern Shore, for glory & for life! For there it is where we will find the supplies we need to replace those we lost in that dreadful storm, and there is where we will succeed! I know many of you have become doubtful, but fear not - I have dreamt of these moments and seen the glory within, and I have all of my faith in the nine Nornir that we will prevail!" he quaked, earning a few rejoiced battle cries from those around you, and even you felt a little energized, his words setting a newfound battlelust within you that you didn't know you even had.

Your clan set sail immediately, the wind from the brewing storm to the south boosting your speed on the short journey to the monastery. It would only take an hour or two to get there, if Vilmar's predictions were correct. Nervously you checked your weapons, feeling & testing the sharpness of your axe's blade-edge, and Gunnar gently elbowed your side. "Never took you for an axe woman," he said with a light chuckle, sending you an uneasy smile. You couldn't bring yourself to match it. "I have never been forced to choose, Gunnar."

His smile dropped momentarily, then returned, albeit a bit smaller, and he turned to you fully. His blue eyes shone with confidence. "Listen, y/n. I know you are worried as I am, but I have faith in both Frederik & the Gods that everything will go right for us this day," he said, gently setting his huge hand on your shoulder and giving a friendly shake. Slowly, you returned his smile. Maybe so.

It was difficult, however, to be so confident & blindly trusting in Frederik & your luck when the storm roared behind you, moving just as fast if not faster than the longships. Too soon you had seen the white pires of the monastery in view, the columns of smoke from countless houses & other buildings rising high into the air as the monastery's denizens continued their lives unaware to the coming danger, and too soon had you heard Frederik's voice over the roar of the sea again. It began to rain heavily, soaking through the leather of your armor and chilling your bones. You felt as if you were in a dream.

"Look there, men! Our prize, to be split open & savored! Prepare yourselves!" he roared, and it seemed like you had blinked and were suddenly upon the shore: the sails lowered, and just as Frederik blew into his horn, a deafening crack of thunder prevailed your raid, and a fire had already started, the hay-roof of a villager's home struck by lightning. Frederik gave a booming laugh, joyous & strong. "Thor is with us!"

And like that, you and your three-dozen clansmen descended upon the monastery, moving together like some unstoppable force. Taken off guard the Saxon warriors had little time to prepare for the assault, and many were immediately fell by the first wave of your brethren; thankfully you were at the back, but this left you open to attack from reinforcements - hopefully they would not come. You quickly entered some sort of fugue state where it felt like you were not truly there, not truly controlling your body, letting your arm guide itself, your axe cutting the chests & necks of already weakened Saxons, spilling red red bubbling blood - was this the battle fury felt by berserkir?

You did not enjoy it. You did not find glory in taking these men's lives.

By the time you had advanced closer to the church, many of the buildings were already set ablaze, the smell of wood-smoke & hair burning making you choke. Not even the pouring rain could douse the fires. All at once you were overwhelmed by the sensations, the sounds - iron clashing, battle cries, the screaming of civilians caught in crossfire - it was too much. You felt yourself shake. But you pressed on, finishing the weak off as before, checking corpses (both of your clansmen and Saxons, though notably more of the latter) as quickly as you could to make sure none of them were breathing - you did not know what you would do if you did find one still alive, either kill him or spare him - and, thankfully, you were never injured. Somewhere along the line you had reunited with Gunnar, and you helped him finish off the last of the Saxon warriors, to which he gave a grateful nod towards you, then a nod to the church. Come with me.

The locked timber doors of the monastery's inner sanctum were no match for the wrath of the vikingr, and crumbled as easily as any other. You both had finally breached the walls of the church when you heard Frederik's victorious cry, and when you turned the corner you could see why - barrels upon barrels and boxes upon boxes of supplies, food, raw materials, and the like.

You had done it. You had won, raided a monastery, and lived to tell the tale. You felt yourself let out a breath and breathe deeply in, something that felt entirely alien to you, as if you had not taken a breath in your entire life. You felt as if you could pass out on the spot. This alerted Frederik of your presence, and he turned to you and Gunnar immediately, wild-eyed and ecstatic. "We have done it, my drengr! Here is our lifeblood!" You couldn't match his enthusiasm, standing as still as a statue, but managed to let out a light chuckle. You had done it.

The chuckle turned into a scream as two arrows pierced your shoulder from behind.

Frederik let go of you and you crumpled to the floor with a sharp cry, taken aback as a dozen or so more Saxons forced themselves through the church's doors, and another had a knife to Gunnar's throat. Reinforcements.

If they had gotten to the three of you, who knows what became of the rest of your clansmen.

You writhed on the marble flooring, your blood staining the tiles red as you tried to gain your footing, your breathing, anything to keep you grounded in this world and alive as your body could not stand to produce adrenaline anymore from the strenuous and long battle, the sharp pain of the arrows lodged between your shoulder blade & your spine making it hard to do anything but lay there. At least it had not been your head.

You felt a boot come down upon your back, knocking the wind out of you again, and a hand tangled itself in your hair, pulling harshly against your scalp to raise you up from the floor - seemingly higher than you've ever been - and another hand came to pull your arms behind your back, as if you could even hope to try and break free. A Saxon, a zealot, you would later say, stepped forward from the rest towards Frederik.

"Hail, heathen," he spat, the rustle of his gilded armor & the voice behind his helmet too loud, too harsh against the once-peaceful quiet of the church. You squeezed your eyes shut. "What brings you here to this House of God, to commit acts of heresy? Tell me why I should not slay you and all of your kin for defiling this place." Thunder roared outside the church, stained glass windows shaking with the sound.

Frederik seemed in shock & at a loss for words. He took a breath, then two, and the Saxon grew impatient. "Speak, worm."

"I, I - we came here for supplies, and -"

"And you thought you could pillage and raid and steal, or maybe you have tried to make peace and were rejected and thought this was the answer. I've heard the same story and the same lie from the other dozens of you Danes that I have slain. I want you to tell me. Why should I not slay you?" You were suddenly very aware of how much of your blood was outside of your body on the floor, where it should not be, and you felt bile bubble up in your throat, saliva drooling from your mouth as if you were a sick animal.

Frederik could not respond. In his mind, he did what he thought was best, not for his clan, but for him; he ran.

At once arrows were drawn upon him, but the Saxon merely waved an arm & they were dismissed. "Ah, I love a good coward. Let him run & tell other Danes of his failure. Let him live with it. Take the others to Canterbury to be converted."

You were again jostled around, catching a glimpse of Gunnar in your periphery, who had cast his gaze down at the ground with a blank stare. You both had the same thought.

He left us.

Before you could finally let yourself pass out from shock, you felt a hand on your jaw, turning your head this way and that. "You're a pretty one, eh? Not a fighter like the others. What are you doing out here with these barbarians?" The Saxon from before. You couldn't meet the man's gaze, locking eyes for a just a second before you looked to the floor again. He gave a light chuckle. Thankfully, he said no more, and you felt yourself grow weaker and weaker as you and your kinsmen were bound & loaded into carts like animals, the rain having let up, only lightly sprinkling now. You fell asleep and dreamt nothing. It was both a blessing & a curse.

You all sat there quietly for the remainder of the morning, any attempt at conversation harshly shushed by a well-armored guard standing nearby on watch. From what you could see, he was bored… as if these circumstances were normal to him. Capturing & abusing prisoners. These Saxons were a new ugly.

When you awoke, you were corralled in some sort of cage with a few others, and you could feel the morning sun beating down on your back. You went to move but were suddenly reminded of the arrows still present in your back and let out a wheezing, pained sound, frightening some of your clansmen around you, waking up others. They had not sustained much injury in the battle aside from bruises and little cuts - your injury, amongst all of those still alive, was the worst. The Saxons had not even been so courteous to break off the shafts, and the nauseating feeling of the arrowheads moving between your muscles as you sat up nearly made you wretch onto the dirt. You were not used to pain like this. Among the others in your cage - all women - you found Hanne, Runa's daughter; Ulla, who you truly didn't know her origins but she could fight like a bear; and little Lissi, a winter younger than you, and in almost the same boat, though she had trained for combat for several seasons now. They all sent you sorrowful looks as blood began to drip from your nose & mouth onto your front, staining your tunic further. Tunic? You looked down. The Saxons had stripped you of your armor, at some point when you were asleep. Figures.

At some point, maybe during noon or after, bells sang from the church on the hillside, and a small, squirrely-looking old man had come down to bring all of you some dry bread & bowls of water. It was not a filling meal but you ate it gratefully regardless. He looked upon you & your kith, bound & shackled and being handfed like dogs, with great pity. An hour passed, and you were all allowed to relieve yourselves, though for some it had come too late. Then dusk came, and a different man approached your cages, followed closely by another armored Saxon. The man spoke in a strange tongue from an open book with a cross on the front, and from what English you understood you supposed it was some sort of rite, or blessing, or maybe a curse. Then they both went away, and you were all left alone for the night. They had not treated your injuries, nor given you anything to eat past the bread & water from midday. You thought of those back at the settlement, and hoped that they were safe… they did not deserve this mistreatment. And then you thought of Frederik, and a new fury from somewhere deep within you came to light. That fucking ergi. Abandoning his people. Maybe he had gone back to them, alone, and the thought of it made your blood boil - what lies would he tell them? It did not even matter if he told them, there would not be enough men left to rescue you. You looked up to the world around you in the cage, ignoring the burning of the arrows, and studied the night sky, and how the lights of the city reflected against the villager's homes, and how the moon seemed to give the church its own glow. This is what Frederik gave me , you thought. Consigned to die in a cage, locked up by an animal by the Saxons. Or worse. You saw a lone crow circling the church's highest point. And to yourself, you made an oath.

I will see to it that the coward faces what he has broken.

Another day went by, the same as the last, and then another. Some priests came by in the early morning of the second day and finally rid your back of the two arrows, though they did not truly clean the wounds, only simply broke off the shafts & quelled the bleeding. You were all only fed bread and water. On the third day, you refused your "meal," partly because of your burning hatred of Frederik to do anything properly, partly because of the fever that had set in and worsened rapidly over a few hours. You did not feel like yourself.

As you did every day, you sat still in the corner of the cage & observed villagers, soldiers, priests & pilgrims pass by, like a dog staring from the back of a kennel. Today, however, you were given the chance to see two new faces pass by - two new outlander faces. One of a tanned man with a beard in strange white & red gear, who looked upon you & your kith with a strange expression, and a tall, hooded woman with bear fur draped about her shoulders. A Norseman, plain in sight, and none of the Saxons in the city had even batted an eye at the pair. She looked at you with pity first, then her brows furrowed, and muttered something to her companion, who gave a short reply. They continued up the hill to the church - pilgrims, maybe? Doubtful.

An hour passed, and then two, then three, and another priest approached your cages. He spoke of conversion, some rite, and honestly you'd tuned him out after the first few words. Suddenly he turned to you, and the ice-blue of his eyes shocked you still. "Will you accept the love of God into your heart?"

You didn't know what to say. This felt like an insult, after all these people have put you through. You made up your mind quickly. Maybe it was your fever speaking for you. "No."

He made another sort of sad face, and then was suddenly shadowed by the same Saxon that had cornered Frederik, back at the monastery.

"Then we will make an example out of you yet, little heathen." You did not have time to prepare for the pair of armored guards dragging you out of the cage, your arms still bound behind your back, and maybe kicking and screaming was not the best reaction, given one of them suddenly backhanded you and shocked you into quietness. A handful of villagers had heard & perhaps caught a glimpse of the debacle and stopped to stare for a moment, before another heavily armed Saxon waved them away. You were brought away from your kinsmen closer to the church, where a foreboding column of wood jutted out of the center of a clearing. Its purpose was made clear as you were made to kneel and your arms were tied to the bough of it, in mockery of a praying position. Public humiliation. Or worse.

Unfortunately worse. A notable crowd had gathered, and though you could not see them, you could hear them mutter amongst themselves somewhere behind you. Some cheered for your punishment, some began to cry, knowing what was coming. The Saxon zealot circled you twice. You did not meet his gaze.

When he spoke, he bellowed his words so that the crowd may hear. "Here we have the little Dane, a fork-tongued thing that has dared to cast aside the love of God! What heresy," he said, his words poisoned with sarcasm & mockery. Somewhere to your left, you heard the squirrely-man's voice call out for mercy. "Please, Eadwulf! This is not the way of God!" Eadwulf simply waved the man away. "These pagans killed more than two dozen of our men at Raculf. Only one death of theirs is a kindness." Death? Oh, no. You did not sign up for this. You don't deserve this. You found a new will to live in the way you squirmed against the bonds to no avail. Fuck.

Eadwulf prowled somewhere behind you, and you felt sweat dripping down your brow. You heard a chain, or a whip maybe, rattling, and the sound of the crowd's murmurs growing louder, and how the entire city seemed to grow quieter. This is not how I am meant to die.

"If you will not accept the love of God, heathen, then bend to his wrath." How poetic. The first slash was unexpected, painful, making your entire body seize up as if you were dropped into both boiling & freezing water as the cloth & skin between your shoulder blades split, fresh blood spilling down the already-stained tunic. The second came only a few seconds after, worse than the first, and you let out a scream loud enough to frighten a flock of crows from a nearby tree. You felt warmth on your back. Whenever you moved, you could feel the lashes rubbing against the dirty & coarse clothing, made doubly worse by the dull, throbbing pain of the arrows. The third came nearly half a minute later, unexpected, and you screamed again. Then the fourth, fifth & sixth came in quick succession. You felt bile rise in your throat, spilling out onto the too-soft grass beneath you, onto the lumber in front of you. The seventh, eight, ninth and tenth came and went, and in your shocked, adrenaline-addled state, you barely felt them. You felt yourself grow weaker against the pole, the too-warm sensation of your own blood running down your back almost a comfort. Eadwulf said something else, you don't quite remember, and then the crowd dispersed. You were left there to die a martyr.

You don't know exactly when you had passed out, but you awoke during the quiet coolness of the night to a blurry image of the strange hooded Norse woman in front of you, cursing. "Are you still alive, kona? Stay with me," she said, voice somehow strained yet comforting all the same. You could only barely lift your head to look her in the eye, to which she cursed a little more colorfully. "I'm getting you out of here." She cut you loose from the wood, and helped you to stand (which you could barely do) before realizing that wasn't really an option. Cursing even more colorfully, a feat you didn't know she could accomplish, she took her hood off & draped it over your back, making you sharply inhale as the cloth stuck to the dried blood at your back. "I know, little crow. I know it hurts, but please, you must stay with me." She whistled faintly, and a black horse came trotting over, giving you a weary look. Even the animals had pity! Or maybe it didn't want some half-dead creature on it's back. Either way, she set you on the saddle, sitting behind you so that you didn't fall off during the ride, apologizing immediately for any discomfort the position might cause you. Before she could grasp the reins, you stopped her.

"Please…" your voice was hoarse, and you did not recognize it. "Please, my friends, my kin… are they still imprisoned?" The woman made some sort of sound, as if she had forgotten of the others she passed by today. "Yes, they are, but I fear it will be some time before they are freed. When we get back to my home, I will send my best warriors to retrieve them. Does that sound okay?" You could only nod your head, the simple action sending your world off kilter. She bid the horse to trot out of Canterbury to an unknown destination, breaking into a full gallop once you had left the city's boundaries. Both you and the Norsewoman understood you had mere hours left. She tried to keep you awake on the journey, asking questions about your name, clan and where you were from, though she mostly got one-worded answers.

"Are you a Dane?" "Yes." You pass over a bridge, the woods of England looking all the same to you.

"Why have you come here?" "Storm." An answer she didn't understand at the time, but continued regardless. The landscape slowly changed from forest to open plain, then to forest, then to marsh. You crossed two more bridges. It was your turn to ask the questions.

"What is your name?" Your speech was slurred, more incoherent. "Eivor."

"Why were you in Canterbury?" A question that she did not outright answer. "Looking for someone."

"Where are we going?"

"Ravensthorpe." A place you did not know, nor seen on any map. "We're almost there. Stay with me."

You couldn't fight to stay awake anymore. "I'm sorry," was all you said before slumping forward on her horse.

She thought you'd died, grabbing hold of your wrist and feeling a wave of relief at finding your faint pulse. She rode twice as hard to her home then, only taking another hour.

When you awoke, you were not dead, nor in your own bed, and could feel bandages straining around your chest, and the scent of herbs filled your senses.

#i copy-pasted the raw html directly from ao3 which was copypasted from google docs so the formatting might be a little wonky #ac valhalla #valhalla #my writing #eivor #lady eivor #f!eivor x reader #eivor x reader #tumblr pls dont block it again.....#ac valhalla spoilers

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sinceileftyoublog · 4 years ago

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30 (Technically 34) Albums We Loved That Happened To Come Out in 2020

So much has already been said and written about this cursed past year, but a few good things came out of it, including the music. Album-wise, like many before it and many to come, it was an embarrassment of riches. But even with so much time on our hands to devour new tunes, it was often old favorites, songs of comfort or familiarity that garnered the heaviest rotation. For many artists, too, it was a year ripe for revisiting or reissues of old material, looking at existing songs with fresh and new perspectives. Simply put, with so much to listen to, new and old, the prospect of ranking a finite number of albums felt not only daunting, but frankly a bit stupid. Maybe we were late to the game, but 2020 taught us that music should and can be appreciated in multiple contexts, not limited to but including when it first came out and when it was heard again and again, even if years later. The records below--listed in alphabetical order--happened to be released in some form in 2020, whether never-before-heard or heard before but in a different format. And the only thing I know is that we’ll be listening to them in 2021 and beyond.

Autechre - SIGN & PLUS (Warp)

The legendary British electronic music duo surprise released SIGN a mere month and a half after its announcement and then PLUS 12 days later. The former was a beatific collection of soundscapes that belied the band’s usual harsh noise, while PLUS embraced that noise right back, drawing you in with the clattering chaotic burbles of opener “DekDre Scap B” and lurching forward. -Jordan Mainzer

Against All Logic - 2017-2019 (Other People)

The perennially chill ambient house artist Nicolas Jaar had a busy 2020, as usual, releasing two albums under his name, Cenizas and Telas. But it was 2017-2019, the follow-up to the debut album from his Against All Logic moniker, that came first and throughout the year helped to illustrate Jaar’s penchant for combining inspired samples with club beats and tape hiss. Take the way the lovelorn vocals of “Fantasy” or soulful coos of “If Loving You Is Wrong” war skittering, scratchy percussion and cool arpeggios, respectively: Jaar is coming into his own as a masterful producer almost a decade after he released his first full-length. Oh, and bonus points for including none other than Lydia Lunch on a banger so blunt it would make Death Grips blush. - JM

Bartees Strange - Live Forever (Memory Music)

Like many, my introduction to Bartees Strange was through Say Goodbye to Pretty Boy, his EP of The National covers. Creativity and shifting perspectives shine through each song’s reimaging, like flipping the coarse, almost manic “Mr. November” into something softer, more meditative. It felt like a mere peek into what was to come on Live Forever. Bartees Strange is a world-builder. Each track on his debut unfolds and welcomes you to a wildly engaging tableau, a fully constructed vision. “Jealousy” opens with soft vocals and birdsong. “In a Cab” is the slick soundtrack to racing through a cityscape in the rain, seeing the blurred lights of the high-rises above as you pass by. “Kelly Rowland” warps wistful pop song feelings. “Flagey God” takes you into a dark, pulsing club while only a few songs later, “Fallen For You” wraps you in echoed vocals and romantic, raw acoustic guitar.

It’s an accomplishment to craft an album of individual songs that stand strongly on their own but still feel cohesive. 2020 wasn’t all bad. It gave us Live Forever, a declaration of an artist’s arrival. - Lauren Lederman

Charli XCX - how i’m feeling now (Atlantic)

Back in the spring, many of us wondered who would put out something great in 2020’s quarantine. It was hard to imagine that the intensity of a global pandemic would really allow for artists to embrace creativity. That thought carries the same eye-roll inducing feeling of “We’ll get some great punk music out of a Trump presidency,” but of course, Charli XCX delivered. Through live workshops with fans and longstanding collaborators, she delivered songs to dance alone to in your bubble. Charli embraces the unknown of the moment but clutches onto what’s familiar. Under the glitch-pop veneer of the album, she digs into the anxieties of not just this moment of time but of the bigger questions we all confront: trajectories of relationships with friends, romantic partners, ourselves. Album standouts “forever” and “i finally understand” embrace that feeling of both looking for control and accepting the lack of it. Charli is a master at balancing this. - LL

Christine and the Queens - La Vita Nuova (Because Music)

Named after a Latin text by Dante Alighieri about missing a woman who has died, Chris’ La Vita Nuova is not about mourning a death but instead about loneliness and isolation, post-relationship or otherwise. It doesn’t bang quite like her previous two albums, but it hits harder than ever.

Read our full review here.

Dogleg - Melee (Triple Crown)

Released on March 13th, right as the COVID-19 pandemic hit, Melee was supposed to be supported by three cancelled tours–SXSW, an opening slot for Microwave, and an opening slot for Joyce Manor–and an appearance at this year’s cancelled Pitchfork Music Festival. Listening to the songs on the record, you can only imagine how they translate: the jerky momentum of “Bueno”, build-up of “Prom Hell”, gang vocals of “Fox”, clear-vocal anthem of “Wrist”, and odd groove of “Ender”.

Read “Buckle Up, Motherfucker”, our interview with Dogleg.

Dua Lipa - Future Nostalgia & Dua Lipa/The Blessed Madonna: Club Future Nostalgia (Warner)

Where Dua Lipa’s much-anticipated second album Future Nostalgia succeeded was in its disco anthems and retro, club-ready beats, so who better to bring out the best of the record than The Blessed Madonna? The turntablist masterfully curates a mix of heavy hitters of the charts and the underground that not only offers an essential complement to Future Nostalgia but transcends it. Sending the tracks out to various producers and singers for features and then adding her own samples on top, she invites you to peel back the layers, enter a YouTube rabbit hole of sample searching as much as bopping along.

Read our full review here.

Emma Ruth Rundle & Thou - May Our Chambers Be Full (Sacred Bones)

Roadburn Festival has long been on my bucket list, and since the pandemic showed me how much live music can be taken away in a flash, when it’s safe again to travel and go to a festival, I may just pull the trigger and go--especially considering it’s the springboard for such fruitful and inspired collaborations as the one between Louisville singer-songwriter Emma Ruth Rundle and Baton Rouge sludge dwellers Thou. Rundle embraces the heavier opportunities on the follow-up to her incredible 2018 record On Dark Horses with the ever-flexible Thou backing her up vocally and instrumentally. Slow-burning opener “Killing Floor” offers a familiar introduction to fans of both--sort of what a Rundle/Thou song would sound like--before grunge chugger “Monolith” introduces huge, catchy riffs and “Out of Existence” a True Widow-esque dirge, newfound inspirations for both artists bringing the best out of each other. - JM

Fiona Apple - Fetch the Bolt Cutters (Epic)

What makes Fetch the Bolt Cutters stand out among Apple’s catalog and music in general is the clarity with which Apple seethes at those who have wronged her, whether ex-boyfriends or patriarchal oppressors, and looks to her relationships with other women for peace of mind.

Read our full review here.

HAIM - Women in Music Pt. III (Columbia)

For HAIM, the title Women in Music Pt. III is suggestive that, more than their previous two records, their third centers around the experiences of being an all-female band in a historically white cis male-dominated scene, at least one that wouldn’t call catchy riffs written by a man “simple” or call attention to the faces a man makes while playing. What it doesn’t let on to is how deeply personal the record is, how, by unabashedly embracing genres and styles of music that they love, HAIM have made far and away their best album. Co-produced by the usual suspects, Danielle Haim, Ariel Rechtshaid, and ex-Vampire Weekender Rostam Batmanglij, it’s instrumentally and aesthetically dynamic and diverse, consistently earnest without devolving into cheese.

Read our full review here.

Irreversible Entanglements - Who Sent You? (International Anthem)

I’ve been captivated by Irreversible Entanglements ever since I first saw them at Pitchfork Music Festival 2018. The radical poetry of Camae Ayewa (aka Moor Mother) is the perfect front for a ramshackle mix of Luke Stewart’s spidery bass, Tcheser Holmes’ weighty drums, and a horn section that concocts tones that range from hopeful to desperate. At their best, Who Sent You? is a shining example of celebratory Afrofuturism and metaphysics that makes the urgency of Ayewa’s more concrete and political words all the more necessary. “No Más”, composed by Panamanian-born trumpeter Aquiles Navarro, is a declaration against imperialist oppression, while the stunning title track flips the switch like a Kara Walker painting, as Ayewa’s the one interrogating the police officer terrorizing her community. “Who sent you?” she repeats, never spiraling, grabbing a hold of the power and never letting go. - JM

Jeff Parker - Suite for Max Brown (International Anthem/Nonesuch)

It’s Jeff Parker’s mom’s turn. After 2016′s The New Breed ended up being a tribute to the guitarist’s father, who passed away during the making of it, Parker decided to pay tribute to Maxine while she was still alive. Suite for Max Brown (Brown is his mother’s maiden name; Max is what people call her) is a genre-bending collection of tracks inspired by Parker’s DJing, juxtapositions of sequenced beats with improvisation that certainly sound like the brainchild of one individual. Indeed, Parker plays the majority of the instruments on it and engineered most of it at home or during his 2018 Headlands Center residency in Sausalito, CA; though all of the players and the vocalist (Jeff’s daughter Ruby Parker) on The New Breed show up, plus a couple trumpeters (piccolo player Rob Mazurek and Nate Walcott of Bright Eyes) and cellist Katinka Kleijn, Suite for Max Brown is a distinctly Jeff Parker record.

Read our preview of Jeff Parker & The New Breed’s set at Dorian’s last year.

Jeff Rosenstock - NO DREAM (Polyvinyl)

Jeff Rosenstock throws us right into the spinning, manic energy of NO DREAM, his latest release from a seemingly endless well of music that never lacks urgency. It’s a reminder that though it’s been a strange year, the issues Rosenstock tackles here aren’t new. There’s no interest in making you feel comfortable here. On the album’s title track, Rosenstock sings, lulling you into a false sense of security, “They were separating families carelessly / Under the guise of protecting you and me.” But reality sets in, and the hazy guitars spin out as he spits, “It’s not a dream!” and, “Fuck violence!”

My image of Jeff Rosenstock in the year 2020 is masked up with “Black Lives Matter” scrawled across the fabric of his mask in Sharpie, performing album highlight “Scram!” on Late Night with Seth Meyers as high energy as ever. It felt like watching someone send out a beacon, both a distress signal and a call to arms. - LL

Jessie Ware - What’s Your Pleasure? (PMR/Friends Keep Secrets/Interscope)

I am not someone who goes to clubs. I don’t “go out dancing,” preferring to let loose in the privacy of my own home or a trusted friend’s house party. But Jessie Ware’s What’s Your Pleasure? makes me think I could embrace a night out like that, once the world opens up again, of course. The album is filled with syncopated disco beats that feel fresh and classic all at once. The abundant horns and strings on “Step Into My Life” are decadent, like light bouncing off sequins in a dark room. Ware’s voice is slinky and velvety one moment, windswept like her album cover the next. It’s songs like “Save a Kiss” that embrace both, allowing her to show off her range. - LL

Laura Marling - Song for Our Daughter (Partisan)

With sparse production, mostly from her but with additions from Ethan Johns and Dom Monks, Marling foregoes the comparative maximalism of the Blake Mills-produced Semper Femina, her last proper full-length, and 2018′s LUMP collaboration. The songs aren’t simple, but they’re succinct, and every element, from Marling’s finger-picked guitars, the occasional slide guitar, and that unmistakably calm voice, sometimes alone and sometimes layered, fits. It’s her most universal set of songs yet, centering around the times when we’re apart from one another but reflecting on when we were together and when we might be together again, with no guarantees.

Read the rest of our review here.

Les Amazones d’Afrique - Amazones Power (Real World Records)

The groovy pan-African collective expands upon their debut Republique Amazone and then some with Amazones Power, a tour-de-force statement of female empowerment in the face of oppression against women throughout the African diaspora. Indeed, the album is more than just songs boldly decrying FGM, though those demands ring heavily. Instead, the group goes further, delving into gender power structures in marriage on “Queens” and selectively finding strength in tradition on “Dreams”. And this time, they include men to stand alongside with them. “Together we must stand / Together we must end this,” sings Guinean musician/dancer/artist Niariu on opener “Heavy” in solidarity with features Douranne (Boy) Fall and Magueye Diouk (Jon Grace) of Paris band Nyoko Bokbae. But perhaps it’s her kiss-off on “Smile” that hits hardest: “I shut up for no one.” - JM

Lianne La Havas - Lianne La Havas (Nonesuch)

The British singer-songwriter’s much anticipated follow-up to 2015′s Blood was better than I could have ever imagined. A song cycle about life cycles--of nature, of lives, of a relationship--inspired by an actual breakup, Lianne La Havas is a contemporary neo soul masterpiece. Overview opener “Bittersweet” is an instant earworm, La Havas’ coo-turned-belt filling the space between classic and increasingly emotive slabs of piano and guitar. Funky, lovestruck strut “Read My Mind” is the soundtrack for the unbridled confidence of finding new love. Yes, the doubts begin to sow on the fingerpicked melancholy of “Green Papaya” and “Can’t Fight”, and where the album goes from a simple narrative perspective may be predictable: They break up, they don’t get back together, La Havas enjoys her independence. But the depth of the arrangements and assuredness of La Havas’ singing is a product of an artist starting to really show us what she can do. And how many people can pull off a Radiohead cover like that? - JM

Lomelda - Hannah (Double Double Whammy)

What does it mean to title an album after yourself? Lomelda’s latest album is centered around discovering more about yourself while not always having the answers. Despite the lyrical content, the album is self-assured. Hannah Read’s voice feels as steady as ever as it navigates these twisting questions, like the way the world can shift after a kiss. She finds power in softness and reflection throughout the album, like when she explores the mantra-like words of “Wonder” or through a reminder to do no harm in “Hannah Sun”. In a year that allowed for perhaps more reflection than usual, Hannah makes space for the questions that arise out of figuring yourself out, of making sense of the messiness of it all, wrapped in warm guitar, balanced vocals, and steady drums. - LL

Moses Sumney - Grae (Jagjaguwar)

“Am I vital / If my heart is idle? / Am I doomed?” Moses Sumney famously sang on his stunning 2017 debut Aromanticism, an album that saw him developing his acceptance of being alone. grae, his two-part 2nd full-length, and his first since officially moving from L.A. to the Appalachian Mountains of Asheville, North Carolina, doubles down on themes of heartbreak, but instead of being sure in his seclusion, he embraces the unknown. The album teeters between interludes of platitudes about isolation and ruminations on failed human connection, and maximally arranged clutches of uncertainty. “When my mind’s clouded and filled with doubt / That’s when I feel the most alive,” Sumney coos over horns and piano on slinky soul song “Cut Me”; it’s an effective mantra for the album.

Read the rest of our review here.

Norah Jones - Pick Me Up Off The Floor (Blue Note)

At the time we previewed Norah Jones’ 7th studio album, she had only released a few tracks from it. Turns out the rest was just as powerful. From the blues stomp of “Flame Twin” to the rolling piano stylings of “Hurts to Be Alone”, Pick Me Up Off The Floor is an album full of jazzy orchestrations and soul and gospel-indebted arrangements, Jones’ silky, yearning voice tying together the simple, yet lush and deep instrumentation. And that other Tweedy feature, that closes the album? It’s a heartbreaking portrait of loneliness, one of many on a record that still manages to celebrate being alive all the while. - JM

Phoebe Bridgers - Punisher (Dead Oceans)

Phoebe Bridgers is a master of details. Her lyrics shine when they get specific. They range from the mundane to morbid: A superfan’s ghost-like wandering under a drugstore’s fluorescent lights, a skinhead likely buried under a blooming garden, reckoning with the you in “Moon Song”’s lines, “You are sick, and you’re married / And you might be dying.” Bridgers has always been able to set a scene meticulously, and Punisher arrived with 11 songs that expanded that skill, both lyrically and musically, with her dark humor intact and a fuller sound that includes her boygenuis collaborators’ harmonies. - LL

PJ Harvey - To Bring You My Love: The Demos & Dry - The Demos (Island)

Yes, revisiting Dry’s demos as a separate entity is still worthwhile. Harvey’s powerhouse vocal performance carries the acoustic strummed “Oh My Lover”, while the comparatively minimal arrangement of “Victory” highlights bluesy riffing, call-and-response harmonies, and layered guitar and vocals. The singles, the slinky and sharp “Dress” and propulsive anthem “Sheela-Na-Gig”, hold up to their ultimate studio versions, too. But it’s the To Bring You My Love material that provides novelty because it’s never been released and more so because it encompasses the greatest aesthetic contrast from the album. From the warbling hues and guitar lines of the title track to the tremolo haze of “Teclo” to the crisp snares of “Working With The Man”, the demos show a continuity and level of cohesiveness with the diversity of Dry and Rid of Me not shown on the studio version of Harvey’s more accessible commercial breakout. (Predictably, the album’s most well-known song, “Down by the Water”, is the closest to its eventual version.) “Long Snake Moan” is simultaneously more spacious and more noisy, its garage blues a total contrast to the lurking “I Think I’m A Mother” and swaying shanty “Send His Love To Me”. And “The Dancer” fully embraces its flamenco influences, hand claps and all.

Porridge Radio - Every Bad (Secretly Canadian)

Is there a better opening line than “I’m bored to death, let’s argue”? That kind of duality is found across all of Every Bad as it grapples with the frustrations and anxiety of trying to figure it all out, whatever that might mean for you. “Maybe I was born confused, but I’m not,” vocalist Dana Margolin repeats throughout the opening track, roping in listeners with the dizzying feeling of trying to make sense of yourself. The band’s guitar and synth sound coupled with Margolin’s howl makes for a dance party filled with dread, rendering Margolin’s already strong, repetitive lyrics even more spiraling. And yet, by the time we get to “Lilacs”, a glimmer of something else shines through as the music gets more manic and Margolin’s voice begins to soar: “I don’t want to get bitter / I want us to get better / I want us to be kinder / To ourselves and to each other.” - LL

Sault - Untitled (Rise) & Untitled (Black Is) (Forever Living Originals)

Yes, Black Is still pulls plenty of devastating punches. “Eternal Life”, a segue from the gospel boost of “US”, juxtaposes a deliberate drum beat with zooming synths, both ascending like a chorus of angels, as they sing, “I see sadness in your eye / ‘Cause I know you don’t wanna die,” presenting the oppression of Black life at the hands of white supremacy in inarguable terms. Ultimately, though, it’s the anthemic nature of the songs, resistant of platitudes, that shines through. “Nobody cared / This generation cares,” says Laurette Josiah on “This Generation”. Whether she’s talking about young people in general or the latest generation of young Black leaders, the sentiment is reflected on songs like “Black”, wherein over dynamic, sinewy instrumentation, the singers alternate between encouragement, support, and love of the self and others.

Read our full review here.

Shamir - Shamir (self-released)

Shamir’s voice is a bright beacon in a sea of conventional singers. Shamir captures the effervescence of pop music and weaves it together with elements of country, alt rock, and diary confessional lyrics all supported by the emotion and range of his vocals. There’s something for everyone across the album’s 11 shimmering tracks. Lead single and opener “On My Own” feels like a declaration of self and self-sufficiency, an anthem of a breakup song. The almost pop-punk bounce of “Pretty When I’m Sad”, paired perfectly with lines like the angst-ridden, “Let’s fuck around inside each other’s heads,” feels impossible to not bop along to. The twang of “Other Side” would put a country crooner to shame. That’s the power of Shamir. His voice has the ability to smoothly convey joy, resilience, and humor. He uses elements of several genres, not just the dance-pop of his debut, to build a unique album that gives listeners so much to sift through and, of course, dance to. - LL

Songhoy Blues - Optimisme (Fat Possum)

If Songhoy Blues’ second album Resistance lacked “the grit of its predecessor,” it’s clear from the hard rock stomp of the opening track of Malian band’s third album Optimisme that they rediscovered their mojo. More importantly, they couple this maximal brashness with tributes to those who make their world a better place: fighters for freedom, women, the young. It’s perhaps the first Songhoy Blues record to truly combine the celebratory nature of their desert blues with a balanced mixture of idealism and vigor. - JM

Spanish Love Songs - Brave Faces Everyone (Pure Noise)

How can you find hope in hopelessness, or optimism when every news story points to cruelty? Is it naïve to keep searching for light in the dark? I don’t think so, and I don’t think Spanish Love Songs does, either. I’d like to think we both believe that’s not naivety, but power. It’s the embers you need to really ignite a flame. After all, this is the band with a song titled “Optimism (As a Radical Life Choice)”. It’s a band whose crunching guitars and earnestness insist that despite death and depression and addiction, the instinct to survive shines brightly above all. That relentless hope resurfaces across Brave Faces Everyone’s 10 tracks even as it works through the bleakness of everyday life. - LL

Tashi Dorji - Stateless (Drag City)

The magnum opus from the Asheville-based picker is a group of evocatively titled, disorderly songs about the desolate hellscape of America for outsiders and immigrants. Enigmatic in its nature, not exactly narrative, Stateless combines Dorji’s urgent strumming with moody motifs, captured beautifully in a studio setting for maximum emotional wallop. - JM

Touche Amore - Lament (Epitaph)

Is this what an almost uplifting Touche Amore album sounds like? It’s cathartic in a newer way for the band, especially after the beautifully rendered grief of Stage Four. Lament loses none of the band’s aggression or urgency. “Come Heroine” thrusts listeners into that urgency and introduces a moment of warmth, Jeremy Bolm’s vocals still rasping and insistent: “You brought me in / You took to me / And reversed the atrophy.” The bounciness of “Reminders” may seem close to optimism, but a sharper look at the lyrics uncovers more than blindly looking to the things that bring joy. “I’ll Be Your Host” is reflective, a few years removed from Touche Amore’s previous album and the immediacy of loss, self-aware and growing, but still raw. The album closer, “A Forecast”, takes a turn, a lone voice and piano acting as a confessional before giving way to thrashing guitars and the realization that growth and reckoning with trauma doesn’t mean minimizing it. It means learning to keep moving forward and to stop for help when you may need it. - LL

Waxahatchee - Saint Cloud (Merge)

The best album yet from Katie Crutchfield is inspired by positive personal change (getting sober, dealing with codependency issues, her blossoming love with singer-songwriter Kevin Morby) and reflections on family and friends. Named after the suburb of Orlando where her father’s from, Saint Cloud is a genre-hopping collection of stories and feelings that doesn’t necessarily follow any semblance of narrative. On opener “Oxbow” and country-tinged ditty “Can’t Do Much”, Crutchfield’s increasingly aware of the need to pick your side and your battles, whether in the relationship between two people or between the allure of the bottle and the next-day hangover. Some of the best songs on the album see her finding commonalities with others as a means towards self-love. Gentle strummer “The Eye” refers to her natural creative relationships with Morby and her sister Allison. “War” she wrote for herself and best friend, who is also sober, the title a metaphor for one’s fight to remain substance-free. “Witches” is an ode to her best friends, including Allison and Snail Mail’s Lindsey Jordan, all equally frustrated by the toxic nature of the music industry and the world at large, ultimately lifting each other up because they simply have each other.

Read our full review here.

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stillness-in-green · 4 years ago

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When MVA/MLA Arc gets animated, what will you be looking forward to the most? What (canon-compliant) additions and/or changed do you want or think Bones should make, if any?

There’s--a lot. Does that surprise anyone? There’s a lot.

o I have been foaming at the mouth for voice actor announcements for almost a year now, particularly for Trumpet, Geten and RD. Trumpet’s superpower is literally his voice! I mean, nothing about that statement requires that voice be particularly entrancing, but it certainly seems like it should be, right?? Geten is a boku-type in the manga, but that was literally the only hint foreshadowing his pretty boy face through 21 solid chapters of Pure Feral Gremlin. Everyone was shocked by Geten’s face reveal! How do you maintain that surprise value with an actual voice actor in the mix? Do you not even try? Do you play up the disparity--in which direction? I can’t wait to see what they do. And Re-Destro! Re-Destro requires so much range! From his peppy, silly businessman persona, to the urbane commander, from the overeager yes-man to the raving zealot--who on earth do you get to believably cover all that ground? I can’t even begin to guess, but I am living in anticipation of that article going up on ANN or the official Twitter sources.

o I’m also much looking forward to getting official coloring on Trumpet and Geten. Skeptic seems pretty straightforward--black, black, more black--and RD and Curious, we have color art for, but I wonder if Trumpet will also be all black clothes, to go with that dignified politician image of his, or if he’ll get some color to pep him up a little. What color are those tinted shades of his? His eyes? The wicked-cool Sevens Loud? I assume Geten is all wintery shades, but it’ll be great to confirm which ones. I mean, we all assume he’s white-haired to better annoy Dabi with family parallels, but what if he turns out to be platinum blond? And are his eyes blue? Gray? White? What color is that awful parka? Also, Re-Destro’s stress powers. Having been writing them as black since at least August--Rorschach test blots are generally black, after all, and they’re the clear inspiration--I would much like it if the anime would have my back on this. They made Destro’s mask a dark cinnamon brown, though, so I’m prepared to be unpleasantly surprised in this matter.

o Predictable MLA adaptational choices aside, I’m also eager/anxious about how they’ll handle Spinner’s narration. What I really hope is that they actually straight-up hand him ALL the narration duties--not just the stuff he dictates directly in the manga, but also e.g. the name and quirk explanation material that Present Mic normally gets, or the previews that are always handled by Deku. The opening and closing sequences are another big structural thing, of course--based on the flashed snippets of Hawks and Endeavor in both our current and the previous OP, I’m expecting we’ll see at least a bit of something referencing the upcoming internship arc (which I expect to close out the season), but I hope the villains just walk away with the closing entirely. I want my slice of life villainy ED, dangit.

o Another thing I’m eager/anxious about would be Kotarou, and the Shimura flashback generally. There’s a brittle edge of to Kotarou that I really love, and I hope he manages to keep it in the anime, despite the anime being generally not so great at moments that I would describe as “delicate.” For example, I’d like it if he doesn’t get a super deep voice, and if they could manage to keep his pretty face, and capture how deeply bitter and tired he looks in the scene where he’s reading the letter Nana left him. Also, I hope they keep the little montage bits and, crucially, the changes of clothes the family goes through. We see Tenko in no less than five, possibly as many as seven, different T-shirts through the course of that flashback. It seems like a small thing, but it’s one of the factors that makes me skeptical that AFO gave Tenko Decay, when so many days clearly go by between the opening with the man at the door and the tragic end. It’d be nice not to see too much resurgence on that just because the anime can’t be bothered to come up with more than one outfit for the Shimuras.

I have enough issues with the anime’s usual adaptation choices that I’m trying not to get my hopes up too high on the actual content of the episodes. The staff is diverting too much of its major talent to the movies (BAH) these days for me to expect the whole season to look all that great, and it’s never been particularly creative or daring outside of its climactic sakuga-heavy fight scenes anyway. I’ve also long had a bone to pick with its scoring decisions, and am already eyeballing the climax of the RD/Shigaraki fight and imagining the minor-keyed terrifying dirge I fear the anime will play there, at the moment that Re-Destro (and, shortly afterward, Spinner) are supposed to be experiencing something akin to religious awakenings. There’s also the issue of the violence and gore--judging by how the anime handled the scene where Shigaraki and Compress maim Overhaul, I have some severe reservations about how much blood they’ll be allowed to get away with, particularly in the scene where the League brutally decimates that CRC group and, of course, Shigaraki’s backstory. I’m looking at MVA to serve as a preview for how all the same issues will be addressed in the War Arc.

That bit of pessimism aside, as to what I’m hoping they’ll add or change? Well, off the top of my head.....

o I would love to get a full episode devoted to the time the League spends fighting Machia. Not that first tussle, but the six grueling weeks in the mountains. There’s so much you could add there for character building and atmosphere that Hori didn’t so much as montage through. Where was their food coming from? How’d they pick out places to pitch camp? How much access to news from outside did they have, and how frequently? What were the circumstances in which Gigantomachia “told them himself” about his great sense of smell?? Stuff like that! I don’t think we’re at all likely to get this--honestly, the series of late has had enough of a problem with trimming bits and pieces that I’m as worried about what they might cut as I am hyped about things they might add--but the one thing that gives me some hope is the training camp arc. Specifically, the moment 1-A first gets to the Pussycats’ forest, they get jumped by earth golems, a fight that the manga off-panels entirely, but the anime spends a modest amount of time on, giving the kids a little bit of time to show off their moves and such. I’d love to get something equivalent for the League.

o On a similar note, I wouldn’t turn it down if they fleshed out some of those running street fights a bit. One obvious thing comes to mind: there’s a weird jump in the manga between Skeptic and a horde of his golems being all but on top of Twice at the beginning of 233 and then that fight just--doesn’t happen. There’s no mention of it at all. I think the suggestion is that either Machia’s appearance or the tower going down interrupted it--Skeptic breaks off from his fight the same way Geten and Trumpet do theirs, shifting focus to protecting Re-Destro--but it’d be nice to see the anime touch on it.

o It’d be nice to get a bit of expansion on the nature of the bullying Spinner endured. We’re told he was, but was it limited to verbal? Did he get beaten up a lot? Was there an online element? Deku’s our only other reference point for “bullied kid,” and whatever one might think about the story’s development of Bakugou’s mentality, it’s been made clear in retrospect that there was a lot more too that than just the matter of Deku’s quirklessness. I’d love to know how Spinner’s bullying looked in comparison (not least because of some of the theories about Spinner and Deku needing to come to some kind of accord to free Shigaraki from AFO).

o Make the Villa (both here and during the War Arc) look more realistic. By which I mean, I know Horikoshi is capable of drawing interesting and lived-in interior spaces--he has an entire chapter dedicated to it in the 1-A dorm room contest, after all--but he normally doesn’t bother much with it. At UA, it’s not too distracting, because we know good and well that that whole building is probably maintained by Cementoss anyway. Ditto places like Tartarus (intentionally, dehumanizingly barren) or the League’s post-Kamino hideouts (abandoned homes and industrial spaces). But the Villa? For heaven’s sake, it’s called a mountain villa. It has a clear reception desk on the ground floor; it’s obviously some sort of high-end hotel, if not an outright resort or rentable retreat lodge. Speaking as someone who’s worked in one, places like that don’t look as fuckin’ bare as the rooms we see there always seem to. For fanfic purposes, I’m happy to go on telling myself that e.g. the pool and the bar and the restaurant(s) and the gym are in the building Cementoss doesn’t tear in half, but it’d be nice if the anime could class the whole place up a little, maybe put some real furniture and decor in the rooms that are in use. (Yes, I know this is a ridiculous nitpick.)

o This is less a change and more a correction, but for fuck’s sake, BONES, give us white-haired Shigaraki. The climax of Deika is a solid time for it, given that it’s obvious in the manga that Shigaraki’s hair gets paler in Deika--you can see it in the way Horikoshi inks it (which is to say, the way he stops inking it)! I think if we ever get white-haired Shigaraki in the anime, a somewhat better time as far as narrative justification goes would be when Shigaraki gets out of the tube in the War Arc; you could easily justify it as a side-effect of the surgery. Still, I’d rather see it here. I want white-haired Shigaraki, gleaming and brilliant through the scattering ash in that crater, a veritable angel of sacred destruction. Honestly, more than anything, the crater sequence is the one I hope I love. It’s probably my favorite single moment in the entire manga, as Shigaraki wins over Re-Destro, Spinner and Gigantomachia in the same moment, and finally comes into his own. If they can at least nail that, I’ll consider myself pretty satisfied.

#stillness-answers #my villain academia #meta liberation army #boku no hero academia #bnha #hopes and dreams

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aer-in-wanderland · 4 years ago

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구미호뎐 | Tale of the Nine Tailed - Lost in Translation EP03

The saga continues: part three in a series in which my sister and I pick our way through all the (mis)translations, humour, and cultural subtext that dropped from the fan-subbed version of TotNT. Thank you so much to everyone who bought us coffee - this one’s for you. ;)

Before we begin, for anyone just joining us: EP01 / EP02.

We pick up back where we left off last episode with Yeon dressing Ji Ah’s wound.

Yeon’s line that’s subbed, “Stop being a crybaby” can be a bit hard to translate. The word he uses is ‘eomsal,’ which literally means, ‘the exaggeration of pain; feigning pain; a great fuss about nothing.’ So he’s essentially saying she’s overreacting. I'm not a fan of the use of the word ‘crybaby’ here though personally.

“Long time no see, Lee Yeon.” > > > 12 Hours Earlier.

We see Thirsty meet his ignominious end in a toilet (we never got character names for these guys so I’m just going to call them ‘Thirsty’ and ‘Hungry’).

Elsewhere on the island, Rang fishes a curse doll with the man’s picture on it out of the surf. That’s quite the atmospheric shot. Point to the director.

Episode 03 Title Card: The Secret of the Dragon King

We open the following morning as Ji Ah and the man who found the body (who Ji Ah refers to as ‘Captain’) examine the scene.

Sub: “Being at sea wasn’t enough and he drowned himself to death.” I’m not sure that sentence even makes sense. I would have translated the man’s line as: “Ho~ Let no one say he wasn’t a seaman. He managed to kick the bucket by drowning [even on dry land].”

Sub: “Talk about it being all for nothing. This is what he gets after throwing himself at his life.” Um, what now? The line is: “Human lives are so futile. And after he clung so viciously to life, too.”

Lol Yeon. “I see someone threw a party.” I like this sub. What he literally says though is: “Oh~ Looks like it was a really special night.” (‘special’ here is in English).

Sub: “He smells like a stinky fish.” What Yeon literally says is: “Ugh, a smell like rotting fish is coming from this kid!” Yeon refers to the man as ‘yae,’ which literally means ‘this kid,’ but can also be used to refer to inanimate objects. So, either way...pfft

Appropriately, the BGM playing as Pyung Hee casts her curse is ‘Shaman.’

Back over to Yeon and Ji Ah as they investigate the body. The chyron on the screen reads: ‘The first survivor of the Milky Way (Deceased)’ Irony-(probably)-not-intended.

We get another chyron not long after, over a shot of Pyung Hee’s father’s head being returned to shore that reads: ‘Seo Gi Chang (Died aboard the Milky Way)’

Lol None of this has stopped Yeon from nomming on his banana milk. I had thought the milk made him seem like a little kid, but according to Korean fans, it’s also, apparently, commonly enjoyed by old men. heh

Sub: “Besides, they’re not good looking enough.” This is a mistranslation. Yeon’s line is literally: “And besides, I don’t like the look of their faces.” What he means, though, is the feeling they give off, rather than their actual ‘looks.’ It’s a common expression in Korean. If I was translating instead of explaining, I would probably render this as, “I don’t like the look of them.”

As Ji Ah drags him out, however, Yeon can be heard saying, “Ah~ I judge people by their looks~!” I’m 98% sure this is another LDW ad lib. Basically, LDW made a joke of his previous line, as if to say Yeon cared about the look of them because they weren’t attractive enough, when really his line meant they seemed shady. It’s almost as if he predicted the bad sub...

We get a brief scene featuring the second (and only named) survivor of the Milky Way, Jin Shik. Oh, and his headless ‘visitor.’ Creepy.

The music underscoring Hungry gorging himself on raw meat is making everything worse (or possibly better, if disturbing is your jam)

I’ve said it before, but I would watch an entire series of Yeon and Ji Ah being a supernatural investigative duo.

Pfft Yeon refers to Seo Gi Chang as ‘the head’ (mogaji). I’m not sure if I should call that indelicate or irreverent. It’s a bit of both, really.

Yeon’s line here is subbed as, “What happened on the boat?” but it should more properly be: “What did you do on the boat?” He’s not just asking after the sequence of events; the line is a clear accusation.

Sub: “We met an unexpected storm that day.” Actually: “Rough wind and waves hit the side of the fishing boat.” (i.e. causing it to capsize)

I appreciate that Yeon sits back here and allows Ji Ah to take the lead.

So, as it turns out, the 11th hell is actually a fishing boat (I’m sure the cast of 1N2D will back me up on this).

Fun fact: This sequence was filmed in a green screen pool and then made to look like the middle of the ocean with CG.

As an aside, I love that Ji Ah deduced the whole story on her own and that she uses that knowledge to corner Hungry psychologically. Also, that her strategy proves more effective than Yeon’s threat of violence. It’s not so much a ‘you catch more flies with honey,’ as a ‘brain over brawn’ sort of deal.

Ji Ah: You were frightened, weren’t you? Twenty-eight days straight on a perilous life boat without water or food. They’re the perfect conditions for a person to go mad, aren’t they? First-degree burns from the hot August sun striking your body mercilessly, the boat pitching about all day; despite not having eaten, you feel as if you’ll throw up. Clenching your teeth and waiting to be rescued only works for a day or two. The more you think about it, the angrier you get. ‘Why, me? Why?!’ Around the fifth day was the crisis point. Since, in that time, not a drop of rain had fallen. Dehydration would have set in first. [...] But it’s odd, isn’t it? For having starved for 28 days, you lost too little body mass. [...] What did you eat?

Meanwhile, Yeon’s contribution to all of this is: “And you couldn’t have used a delivery app in the middle of the open ocean where there’s no wifi signal.” Pfft He has, of course, caught on to her strategy. As usual, though, he decides to take the cheeky route.

Side note: I find it interesting that, in this universe full of monsters, the first incident Yeon and Ji Ah end up investigating together turns out to be an entirely human horror.

Yo. Hungry deciding Ji Ah is food is just...ugh. Never trust a cannibal.

Luckily for Ji Ah, her guard dog fox is on the job.

Over to Rang, who asks a weeping Pyung Hee what she’ll give him in return for granting her ‘wish’. We don’t get to see her answer him, but it was included in the backstory collection.

It’s unclear to me just how much Rang is involved in ‘granting’ Pyung Hee’s wish. Like, is he the one fueling the curse somehow, or did he just teach her what she needed to know? I’m inclined to believe it’s more the latter.

We cut to Taluipa at the Afterlife Immigration Office, who’s pissed that someone’s messing with her Death List. There’s a fun mythology-related chestnut in this scene: when Hyeonuiong comes running in, he’s carrying a watering can. Taluipa accuses him of having been watching dramas, but Hyeonuiong insists he was watering the Uiryeongsu.

The chyron for it reads: ‘The Uiryeongsu. A tree that measures the sins of the dead by the weight of their clothes when they’re hung on it.’ The hanja for ‘Uiryeongsu’ (衣領樹) literally mean ‘clothing-amount-tree,’ so its name is essentially its function. In traditional mythology, it grows on the near bank of the Samdocheon. This is also the same tree that the Uiryeong’geom (geom = sword) mentioned in EP13 is made from.

“You watered a tree for 3 hours?” Pfft Hyeonuiong and watering can, exit stage right.

Minor detail: I just realized I can actually see from Taluipa’s List in this scene that one of the two fishermen is named Kim Gil Sang. Still not sure which one though, so I’m going to stick to calling them Hungry and Thirsty.

The Dragon King Scroll

Back over to Ji Ah, who examines a creepy scroll hanging in Jin Shik’s vacant quarters. Once again, the show cuts into its own dramatic tension with a moment of levity as Yeon startles both Ji Ah and me by popping open his bag of snacks with a massive bang. The contrast between Ji Ah, who’s in serious investigator mode, and Yeon, who just continues his one-gumiho snack parade, blasé as can be, adds humour to an otherwise grim situation.

Yeon’s response of, “Oh. Sorry.” is in English, making it sound, if possible, even less sincere.

On the off chance that anyone was wondering, the snack Yeon claims as his favorite here is 솜짱 (somjjang). According to the Korean fans again, this is also a food commonly enjoyed by elderly people.

Subs: “Do you know how many people in Joseon died during the 50 years of war? 3.5 million. I’ve seen more deaths than all the funeral companies in this country.” This is another case of diagonal translation. Yeon’s line is more properly:

Yeon: Between the Imjin War and the Manchu War, do you know how much of the population of Joseon-era Korea was lost in just 50 years? 3,500,000. I’m a guy who’s seen more funerals than all the funerary companies in Korea put together.

[Note: Yeon is talking about The Japanese Invasions a.k.a The Imjin War (1592-1598) and The Qing Invasion of Joseon a.k.a. The Manchu War (1636)]

As a linguistic aside, Yeon refers to himself here as a ‘nom’ (rhymes with ‘home’). If you read the breakdown of EP02, you’ll recall that ‘nom’ can mean anything from ‘guy’ to ‘bastard.’ It’s not that Yeon means to call himself a bastard, though. It’s only that the typical alternative here (i.e. ‘person’) carries the implication of 'human.’ Since Yeon is, of course, not human, he opts for ‘nom’ instead. The word gets a lot of mileage in this show in relation to all the supernaturals for that reason.

Lol This exchange about the Dragon King was great. Point to the writer. I would translate it as:

Yeon: You’re right, but it looks nothing like him.

Ji Ah: You’ve...seen him?

Yeon: Back when I was a mountain god. Well, in today’s terms you’d say we attended a leadership conference together. They over-glamorized him. He’s not this good looking.

Ji Ah’s reaction is perfect too. Her, ‘I don’t even know where to begin with that statement so I’m just going to move on’ look came across loud and clear.

Yeon’s line as he leans over Ji Ah’s shoulder is subbed: “This is just like ‘Where’s Wally?’” In Korea, the game is called ‘find the hidden picture’ (‘sumun keurim chatgi’). So the line is actually: “What is this, ‘find the hidden picture’ or something?” I’d say there’s a 50/50 chance this line was another ad lib by Lee Dong Wook.

On an entirely different cultural note, ‘Where’s Wally?’ is know as ‘Where’s Waldo?’ in North America and exactly nowhere else. Don’t ask...

This scene features the first mention we get of Imoogi. Imoogi are among the most famous Korean mythical creatures. In most tellings, they are essentially proto-dragons, though occasionally they can be baby dragons. For example, one imoogi tale claims its imoogi was the son of the Dragon King (the same one Yeon attended a ‘leadership conference’ with). Most of the lore agrees that if an imoogi stays submerged in deep water for a thousand years, it earns the chance to become a dragon, though the caveats vary widely, and many imoogi fail. Finally, while the imoogi in TotNT is evil, imoogi aren’t categorically so; some are good, some aren’t.

Rang and the Mudang

Fun fact: Kim Beom explained in his Instagram LIVE that he chose to wear a red suit partially because the color gave off the feeling of a villain, but also because it contrasted well with the green of the forest. He also named this as his favorite Lee Rang outfit.

For anyone keeping track, Rang speaks to the mudang in banmal. She, in return, addresses him as ‘Lee Rang-nim’ and speaks very respectfully.

Okay, there are a couple of things to unpack in Rang’s following exchange with the mudang:

Mudang: The Corrupt God, King of the Wicked. He is Lee Ryong-nim.

Rang: [Laughs] What’s with that? Ugh, I seriously just cringed! If you slap a fancy title* from the next world in front of its name, does a snake become a dragon?

First, the mudang’s line here is said in an archaic cant. Second, ‘Lee Ryong’ (properly pronounced, ‘i-ryong,’ since there’s actually no ‘L’ in ‘Lee’), is another name for imoogi.

Finally, when Rang says ‘a fancy title from the next world,’ he’s referring to a posthumous name/title. Nearly every kingdom to have occupied the Korean peninsula has used posthumous titles (시호), most often for deceased royalty. By giving one to Imoogi, the mudang is venerating him. Rang mocks this, seizing on Imoogi’s failure to become a dragon. (Let no one say he and Yeon aren’t brothers).

The subs have Rang referring to Yeon as just ‘Yeon,’ but he actually calls him ‘Lee Yeon.’ That’s a very impersonal way to refer to one’s older brother, which is, of course, intentional on Rang’s part. It serves as another linguistic cue to the audience as to how Rang regards Yeon at this point.

A note on the evening primrose: tvN released a short blurb about it, since, as far as I can tell, the mythology was invented for the show. It reads:

Evening primrose that has grown while feeding on the blood and flesh of corpses is the same as poison to gumiho; if they so much as touch its powder, their bodies catch flame.

While the subs consistently just say ‘evening primrose,’ this should more properly be ‘burial ground evening primrose,’ which is how the various characters refer to it.

Fun fact: ‘Evening primrose’ in Korean is ‘dalmaji-kkot’ (달맞이꽃), which means ‘flowers that welcome the moon’.

Sub: “Half-brothers, to be exact.” The term Rang uses in Korean is quite literally, ‘brothers from different stomachs,’ so it refers specifically to half brothers who share a father but who have different mothers. I mention it only because Korean viewers will have been given slightly more information about their familial relationship here than was provided in the subs.

Back over to our leads, as Yeon urges Ji Ah to leave the island post-haste. His line is subbed: “I’m saying you may die if you stay here.” That’s a perfectly fine translation. For anyone curious, though, his line is quite literally: “I’m saying if you stay here, [the conditions are] perfect for dying.”

Sub: “That’s none of your business.” Yeon’s line is more properly: “That’s not for you to know.”

Ji Ah’s response to this is very literally: “I have no intention to go home for a reason I don’t know. So Lee Yeon should find the person Lee Yeon came here to find. I have to know why my parents came to this island.” This is the first time Ji Ah uses Yeon’s full name as a second person pronoun (so basically to mean ‘you’) when speaking to him. It’s hard to make generalizations about any form of address that don’t have multiple exceptions, but in this case, using his name is a more neutral, and somewhat more familiar, alternative to some of the other pronouns she’s been using when speaking to him. To my sense, it softens her rejection of his advice a little bit.

Back to Rang. His line is a bit awkward to translate, but essentially what he says is, ‘Calling my brother a ‘mountain god’ is an overstatement/ putting it nicely.’ I might approximate this as, ‘Sure, my brother was called a mountain god.’ This is the only time in the entire drama that Rang refers to Yeon as ‘uri hyung,’ and it kills me a bit that it’s not out of fondness, but rather derision. ㅠㅠ

Similarly, when Rang says, “I’m a fox, after all. I have to repay eunhye properly,” he is, of course, using eunhye sarcastically.

The subtitle here once again says ‘the underworld,’ but Rang’s line is actually: “I’m going to go to hell, without fail. Together with Lee Yeon.” The subs really need to do a better job of distinguishing between hell and the afterlife.

We see Ji Ah instruct Jae Hwan over the phone as to what to search for in the library records. She’s split off from Yeon since we last saw them.

Elsewhere on the island, Yeon also makes a call, only his is to Halmeom (Taluipa) to ask about Imoogi. When this episode first aired, I thought it was odd that Yeon was using ‘Imoogi’ as if it were a name, since this would be like referring to Yeon as ‘Gumiho.’ He later taunts Terry-Imoogi about just that though (i.e. not even having a proper name), so obviously it was an intentional decision on the writer’s part.

Sub: “If by chance Ah Eum was born again into this world, I can’t let that thing coexist with her.” This sub went a bit sideways. The ‘by chance’ has been mis-attributed. The line is properly: “There’s no way I could possibly (i.e. by any chance/under no circumstances can I) let such a thing exist in a world in which Ah Eum has been reborn.” Yeon is already sure that Ah Eum has been reborn at this point. He’s saying that because she’s been reborn, he can’t allow Imoogi to coexist with her under any circumstances.

Rang vs Ji Ah

Ji Ah returns to Pyung Hee’s to find ‘Pyung Hee’ reading Moby Dick. This is an ironic enough choice of literature to clue her in to the fact that this isn’t really Pyung Hee. Smart cookie.

On a character note, I loved that Ji Ah’s knowledge of, and love for, world literature was threaded believably throughout the drama in a way in which it feels natural that she caught on to Rang’s hint here. Point to the writer.

Again, for anyone keeping track, Ji Ah and Rang speak to each other in banmal, as has been the case since Rang revealed himself at Ji Ah’s house in EP01. Not because they’re close, obviously, but because they have zero respect for one another. It’s a bit of a power play on Ji Ah’s part, too, since she’s (hundreds of years) younger.

Over to Yeon, who barges into the local market owner’s personal quarters to interrogate him. His line when he catches sight of the scroll on the wall is subbed: “Look at this.” This should more properly be: “Check these people out. There’s one here too.” The word he uses that I translated as ‘these people’ is ‘i-geot-dul,’ which is very literally ‘these things,’ so I sort of understand the confusion in the subs. He means the islanders though, not the scrolls. In contrast, ‘there’s one here too’ does actually refer to the scroll.

The knife Yeon throws hits directly over the slit pupil of the scroll dragon’s eye. Nice aim.

Back to Ji Ah and Rang. When Ji Ah accuses Rang of orchestrating the deaths of the Milk Way survivors, ‘to distract us,’ what she says quite literally is ‘to cover our eyes and ears.’

When Rang applauds Ji Ah’s deductive abilities, his line is subbed, “Awesome.” This should more properly be, “Outstanding,” or, “Exceptional.” I honestly believe he’s being sincere in his praise. Being Rang, though, he’s probably just delighted this makes her more challenging to toy with.

Having completed his interrogation, Yeon’s eyes change as he erases the man’s memory of the event. I suspect the reason Yeon is so cavalier about revealing he’s a gumiho is because he can basically ‘undo’ it whenever he wants using this power.

Ji Ah’s quiet, “I decline” is so satisfying. Also the way Rang pulls back in surprise haha I guess he’s not used to being turned down.

Rang’s exchange with Ji Ah is subbed as: “Loosen up. Why be so stiff when it’s just good old me?” / “Let me give you some advice since that’s how you feel. Don’t gamble with another’s tragedy just for kicks. There’s a word for people like you, you know. A colossal jerk.” This is difficult to translate, and I think the subs have done a pretty good job, but a closer translation would be:

Rang: Augh— So uptight! Are you going to keep acting this uptight, just between us* (literally, ‘between you and me’)?

Ji Ah: Between you and me, then, I’ll give you just one word of advice: Don’t carelessly role the dice atop others’ misfortune. People call jerks like you ‘sleazy bastards.’

[*Note: Rang’s phrasing implies that they’re somehow close/on good terms, but he’s being sarcastic, of course.]

First off, the word Rang uses for ‘uptight’ (빡빡하다) means ‘stiff; uptight; rigid; inflexible; strict.’ By this, he’s referring to how she never lets her guard down. I don’t know that any of those words properly conveys that, though.

Second, while I translated Ji Ah’s line about the dice very literally here (in keeping with the spirit of this post), I actually like how the subs handled it from a translation/subtitling standpoint.

Finally, the subs have Ji Ah calling Rang ‘a colossal jerk,’ but the term she actually uses (‘yang’achi saekki’) is a much stronger expletive. ‘Yang’achi’ is a term for a thug, gangster, or hoodlum. ‘Saekki’ literally means ‘child of.’ In practical use, though, it’s close to ‘bastard.’ (I really didn’t think I’d be explaining the finer points of Korean expletives when I started this series, but here we are). I approximated this as ‘sleazy bastard’ above.

Pfft Rang being genuinely offended at Ji Ah’s language. Jo Bo Ah talked a bit about what she thought of all the explicit language Ji Ah uses towards Rang in her wrap interview.

Subs: “When he finds what he wants, you’ll be begging for mercy.” No idea where they got 'begging for mercy.’ What Rang actually says is, “When he finds what he wants, you’ll see hell.” Unlike in the subtitle, Rang’s warning actually has substance to it, since he’s referring to the fact that, once Yeon identifies Ji Ah as Ah Eum’s reincarnation, their fate with Imoogi will repeat itself.

By the time Yeon rushes back to Pyung Hee’s, Rang is long gone. His line subbed as: “What did he say?” is, quite literally, “Lee Rang, that nom, what’d he say?” This use of ‘nom’ manages to come off as fairly mild. (He may be a jerk, but he’s Yeon’s jerk).

Ji Ah’s response has undergone cultural translation to become: “Even when I order pizza, I never go for half-and-half. I always choose just one.” Honestly, though, I don’t know that it was necessary. What she actually says is: “Even when I order chicken, I don’t go for half-seasoned, half-fried; I’m the type to just pick one.”

This scene was originally longer but part of it got deleted. They released the clip, though, so I’ll translate the full exchange here:

Ji Ah: I'm saying I turned him down, your younger brother. Since I bet on this fox.

Yeon: Let no one say you aren’t a learned (wise) woman. Is that all?

Rang (voiceover): Don't trust Lee Yeon too much.

Ji Ah: That's all. But...you said the two of you are brothers.

Yeon: Yeah. We’re brothers.

Ji Ah: Why are you so hellbent on destroying each other?

Yeon: It seems like you don’t know since you’re an only child, but, as a rule, the relationship between siblings is a lot like noir, just without the guns.

Ji Ah: There you go, deflecting the question again. Is that a secret, too?

Yeon: If you ever happen to run into that guy again just the two of you, no matter what, run fast. That kid* despises humans. Especially humans that look like you.

Ji Ah: Why do you keep taking cracks at people's faces?

Yeon: ...I'm hungry.

Ji Ah: Why don’t you take the opportunity to pack up and leave while you still can? Your younger brother...it seems he’s preparing some sort of special event.

Yeon: That’s what I’m waiting for.

*Note: The word Yeon uses that I translated as ‘kid’ is ‘jashik.’ This is another word that, depending on how it’s used, can either be fond or rude. ‘Jashik’ literally means ‘[one’s] child,’ but it’s also commonly used in the sense of ‘punk.’ It’s a bit softer than nom. You wouldn’t use it to refer to yourself, though.

Ji Ah’s “Why do you keep taking cracks at people’s faces?” (meaning he’s insulting/taking issue with how she looks), is referencing their exchange the previous night when he told her not to smile because she was ugly.

We cut briefly to Shin Joo eating at the Snail Bride as he sizes up Yoo Ri from a distance. Come to think of it, we never got this BGM for the Snail Bride, either...

Ramen Heart-to-Heart

Lee Yeon’s one-gumiho meokbang continues. I feel like Yeon has been nomming on something in nearly every scene this episode.

The BGM while Yeon and Ji Ah eat is a remix of Yeon’s theme, ‘The Fox’s Wedding Day.’

Sub: “Just because these ladies wear baggy pants in floral prints doesn’t mean they have kind hearts. Get digging, and you’ll find all sorts of dirty secrets.” Yeon’s line is more literally:

Yeon: Living is all the same [everywhere]~ Just because grannies in the countryside wear flower-patterned pants doesn’t mean that even their insides are flower-patterned. If you start digging, venomous and insidious years come pouring out.

Ji Ah’s response then plays off of Yeon’s turn of phrase: “Is that the case for you too? I just wondered, ‘With what pattern did you live all those long years?’” (referring to the ‘pattern’ of his heart).

On a minor cultural note: the word Yeon uses is ‘mombbae pants’ (몸빼바지), which are a fashion(?) staple in the countryside. You’ll know what I mean if you run the hangeul through a google image search. That’s where the subs got ‘baggy’ from even though Yeon doesn’t explicitly say it.

Sub: “Why have you been searching for your parents all this time?” Yeon’s line is more properly: “Then what about you? What has made you wait for your parents for such a long time?”

Sub: “I’m the same. I’m waiting for the one I miss.” I would have translated this as: “I’m waiting for someone I miss,” which is literally what he says.

Sub: “Why did you part ways when you still miss her this much?” This is a bit hard to translate into natural-sounding English. The word Ji Ah uses is ‘mi’ryeon,’ which means ‘lingering attachment.’ So her line is quite literally: “Your face is so full of lingering attachment, how did you come to part ways/break up?”

Sub: “The first being I loved was a human girl who ended up dying. It’s why I’m still hung up on her. Happy now?” Hmm... I would translate Yeon’s line as:

Yeon: My damn* first love was a human of all things, but she died, so I’m foolishly unable to let go of my lingering attachment. Happy now?

[*Note: Yeon is cursing is the phenomenon of first love itself, not Ah Eum.]

His statement is witty, because the word he uses for ‘foolish’ is also pronounced ‘mi’ryeon.’ In this case, though, 'mi’ryeon’ means, ‘foolhardy and dense enough to be stubborn to a preposterous degree.’ Which is probably a fair assessment given he’s been waiting 600 years. The sub for this line made it sound like he’s saying, ‘I’m hung up on her because she’s a human girl who died,’ which would just be weird.

Shin Joo Meets Yoo Ri

Okay, minor detail, but what exactly was Yoo Ri trying to accomplish here before Shin Joo stopped her from entering an off-limits area of the Snail Bride?

The BGM here is called ‘Skip a Beat’ (‘Kanju Jump’). I found the track title slightly surprising since it’s actually taken from an ad lib made by Kim Yong Ji (Yoo Ri) in a later episode.

For anyone keeping track, Shin Joo and Yoo Ri are speaking in a mix of banmal and jondaetmal in this scene.

We next see Shin Joo on the phone with Yeon, whining about the whole ordeal and asking an unsympathetic Yeon to come back and retrieve his necklace for him.

Yeon’s line that’s subbed as, “Deadly?” could mean more than one thing. The line is literally, “What? The thief was deadly?” The word for ‘deadly,’ though, could equally mean that she was a knockout (i.e. gorgeous). It’s probably a bit of both.

Subs: “There’s nothing more pathetic than being blinded by a woman’s beauty...” / “But you also ruined your life by falling for beautiful woman.” For the record, neither of them actually uses the word ‘beauty/beautiful’ here. I would translate this exchange as:

Yeon: You... The most pathetic thing in the world, is being blinded by a woman, and...

Shin Joo: But being blinded by a woman and wrecking your life is something Lee Yeon-nim did too, isn’t it?

Yeon: What, you punk?!

Lol Yeon’s “What, you punk?!” is a familiar refrain whenever Shin Joo unwittingly(?) insults Yeon. The word is ‘imma’ (임마) or sometimes ‘inma’ (인마). Yeon consistently uses the former.

‘Bad Fate’

Subs: “Why is that branch broken? It must’ve hurt.” Yeon is actually personifying the tree here, which makes sense seeing as he can communicate with it. So his line is more literally: “Now why has this kid gone and made a fuss breaking [his] branch? It must’ve hurt.” Which is cute.

I actually really appreciated this short scene of Yeon healing the tree. Yeon may no longer be the master of Baekdudaegan, but this scene showed that it’s still very much a part of who he is; not just his powers, but the care he has for the forest.

Fun (?) fact: It turns out this simple scene was actually a huge pain to film.

Subs: “I hope you grow well.” Actually: “Eat well and grow well.” I realize that sounds awkward in English, but the line is a directive. He’s once again speaking to the tree.

Sub: “The wind is blowing from the northwest. Something is coming.” I would have translated this as: “A northwest wind blows... Something is coming.” That’s partly a tonal choice, but it’s also a more literal reflection of the original Korean.

We finally catch back up to the end of EP02, as Jae Hwan calls Ji Ah from the library to tell her what he’s found. This time, we see her connect the first dead body in 1954 to what the forest spirit told them more explicitly.

The dates of the four incidents are: August 13, 1954; August 25, 1961; September 6, 1979; and September 7, 1987. Ji Ah quickly deduces that these all work out to be the same date on the lunar calendar: July 15th. In 2020, that works out to be Wednesday, September 2nd. If you’ll recall, the wedding at the start of EP01 was held on August 29, so it’s only been 3 days since Yeon and Ji Ah crossed paths at the wedding hall.

“Long time no see, Lee Yeon.” What is it with Imoogi and choking Yeon?

Subs: “You should’ve let me go.” More precisely: “I know, right? You should have let me go.”

Yeon’s final “What are you?” should probably have been subbed as: “I’m asking what you are!” since both his tone and phrasing have grown more insistent.

Subs: Our ill-fated relationship would’ve ended if you hadn’t stopped the boat from crossing the Samdo River. More literally:

Jimoogi: Our ak’yeon should have ended. That is, if only you hadn’t stopped the boat from crossing the Samdocheon.

The word the subs translated as ‘our ill-fated relationship’ is ‘ak’yeon’ (悪縁), which literally means ‘bad fate.’ In contrast to the broader, ‘destiny’ sort of fate (‘un’myeong’) however, ‘yeon’ (縁) is inherently relational. It refers specifically to the fate between two people (or even between a person and a place). ‘Ak’ (悪) means ‘evil.’ So 'ill-fated’ is a bit misleading as a translation since the word actually refers to the relationship between Yeon and Imoogi (i.e. mortal enemies), rather than the fact that Yeon and Ah Eum’s story ended tragically (as in, ‘an ill-fated love’).

WAIT. Subs: “No. That woman is born with a face that only I can recognize. And I don’t see it in you.” What?? That doesn’t even make sense. Yeon’s line is:

Yeon: No. That woman is born carrying a sign that only I can recognize. You don’t have it.

Obviously, Yeon is referring to the fox bead, and I’m fairly sure that was apparent since the line was intercut with the scene in which he imparts the bead to Ah Eum, but that seems like a pretty critical line to fudge up.

Jimoogi: “You really don’t know anything, do you, Lee Yeon?” It’s weird to me that they have Imoogi addressing Yeon as just ‘Yeon’ in the subs. That makes it seem like they’re friends or something...

Subs: “The scar is gone.” Actually: “The wound disappeared.”

Deadball

Subs: “We hate each other too much to play catch. I actually meant to kill you.” Wait, WHAT?! Yeon’s line is:

Yeon: Our relationship is too makjang for that. That was meant to be a deadball, actually.

Makjang, for the uninitiated, is a slang word taken from the phrase ‘the final scene’ (‘majimak jangmyeon’) that has come to refer to an entire genre, as well as particular dramatic elements or conventions of Korean storytelling. Dramabeans explain the term here. When Yeon says his relationship with Rang is ‘makjang,’ he’s essentially saying it’s overly fraught, not that he hates his brother.

He also doesn’t say he meant to kill Rang. ‘Deadball’ is a Korean baseball term for a pitch that hits a player (typically causing the game to be paused). So Yeon’s just saying he meant for the ‘ball’ to hit Rang, rather than for Rang to catch it.

On a personal note, it really bothers me when the subs spread all over the internet and they’re wrong like this. I don’t mind slight changes in phrasing or wording, but when they grossly misrepresent the characters like this it can be a bit upsetting. It’s no wonder I sometimes feel like I watched a completely different drama. ㅠㅠ

Yeon’s cheeky smile™ XD

The BGM in this scene is actually ‘The Forest of the Agwi.’

Subs: “Run away.” Yeon’s line is quite literally: ‘Get away from here,’ or even, ‘put distance between here and you.’ I mention it because I really appreciated that, despite all the danger she confronts, Yeon never once tells Ji Ah to ‘run away’ (‘domang ga’). His second ‘run away’ in the subs is also just him telling her to hurry up (literally ‘go quickly’).

The following banter between the brothers is something I mentioned in an ask a while back because all the humour had been lost in translation. To recap, though, one recurring joke the show uses plays off the word for ‘bastard/son of a bitch,’ which translates literally as ‘child of a dog’ (kae-saekki). As you might imagine, this gets a lot of mileage in relation to Rang, our resident ‘baby fox’ (agi yeou) a.k.a. ‘child of a fox’ (yeou-saekki):

Rang: This is domestic violence, you know?

Yeon: (Nodding) They say you’re supposed to raise wild children* with a firm hand (literally: hit them as you raise them), but I couldn’t do that, so I ended up raising a fox child into a dog child (son of a bitch), didn’t I?

Rang: And who was the jerk who kicked that child (saekki) to the curb? You treat me like a stray dog any chance you get.

Yeon: My little brother, I’ll have to gift you a muzzle this Christmas.

Rang’s line was subbed: “You keep blaming it on me, when you were the one who turned me into an orphan.” which I find fairly problematic since that makes it sound like Yeon killed Rang’s parents. It’s also just plain wrong; to the extent that I’m not even sure what went wrong in the translation process.

The word Yeon uses here for ‘wild children’ is ‘horo jashik’ (호로자식), which many Koreans understand to mean something like a barbarian child, but the true origin, as it turns out, is a parentless child. It’s also a term used predominantly by elderly people heh

Finally, because the dog jokes dropped out ‘muzzle’ became ‘mouth guard’ in the subs, which is both less funny and less sensical. The two are also conceptually opposed, since ‘muzzle’ implies that Yeon means to protect the world from Rang whereas ‘mouth guard’ is more about protecting Rang.

As Ji Ah continues to put distance between herself and the brothers, she happens upon the mudang’s house, which she immediately clocks as such from the obangi.

I like that Ji Ah doesn’t immediately call the mudang out for lying, but instead continues to question her knowing she’s lying. Sometimes the lies people tell can be as telling as the truth.

When Ji Ah questions her, the mudang tells her the fishing ritual is held during the ‘Ghost Festival’. This is a Buddhist festival similar to All Souls Day. In Korean it’s called ‘Baek Joong Nal’ (literally ‘hundred-gather-day’) meaning ‘the day when all the spirits gather.’ It falls on the full moon of the seventh lunar month (so July 15th of the lunar calendar), which is, of course, the date Ji Ah identified as the day when the murders were taking place. That’s why we get the zoom in and the flash to the newspaper dates: Ji Ah has put everything together.

Chyron: “Obangi (五方旗) A five-colored flag symbolizing ‘life, death, illness, sacrifice, and ancestors’”. This is the quick quotes version. Obangi have their roots in the Chinese philosophy of Wuxing, but for more on that, I’ll refer you to Wikipedia. In Korea, the colors of the obangi (red, blue, white, black, and yellow) are known as the five orientation colors, and are closely tied to both shamanism and fortune telling. You’ll notice these same colors flying outside the fortune teller’s in EP06.

I also appreciated that Ji Ah didn’t just foolishly drink the tea here. She was properly on her guard. It’s only that she mis-identified the source of danger.

Back over to our fox brothers. Rang’s line is subbed: “That was plenty of time.” This is more properly: “I think I’ve bought more than enough time by now.” So he’s actually quite overt in telling Yeon exactly what he'd been up to.

Subs: “Don’t you know why she ended up on this island?” More closely: “Do you still not get it? Why that woman ended up coming to this island of all places?”

We see the mudang encircle the creepy well with burial ground evening primrose to ward against Yeon, who is currently searching the island for Ji Ah to no avail.

Subs: “You tricked your mom while you were in her womb.” This is a bit difficult to translate. The word the mudang uses that was translated as ‘tricked’ is ‘ggweda,’ which means to ‘lure’ or ‘entice.’ So what she means is that the part of Imoogi that was reincarnated with Ji Ah ‘lured’ her mother to the island by sending her recurring dreams.

Gumiho

Lol Yeon: “I am the original mountain spirit, the master of the mountains and streams. Lift this darkness and lead me to her!” This is more literally:

Yeon: I am the original mountain god, the master of your mountains and streams.* Part this darkness and lead me to that woman!

[*Note: ‘Mountains and streams’ here can also be taken to mean ‘nature’ at large.]

Lol The line is met with silence and the soft hoot of a lone owl. That’s basically the director’s version of *crickets* isn’t it?

This line is another rare case in which Yeon speaks archaically, and it serves to make the command sound more formal and potentially magical. It’s also worth noting that he’s addressing the forest directly as a whole here (thus the ‘your’).

Fun fact: When Lee Dong Wook did his TotNT VLIVE, his promotional team made him perform this line again live just to mess with him haha

The BGM here as Yeon heads off through the forest led by his (supernatural?) fireflies is ‘Opening Title: The Legend of the Fox.’ It sounds vaguely Harry Potter-ish to me (not complaining).

For the record, Ji Ah is now speaking to the mudang in banmal out of disdain.

Sub: “Be a sacrifice. You are a very special child.” Pfft ‘Be a sacrifice’ sounds oddly funny to me. Her line is: “Become a sacrifice. I’m told you’re a very special child.” So the implication is that this information came from someone/something else.

Does anyone know what BGM this is as Yeon sprints though the forest? I think it might be another unreleased track, but I’m not positive...

Yeon’s “Halt!” is once again in olden speech. It indicates linguistically that he's in Gumiho mode.

Out of curiosity, is it not odd for people watching with subs when Ji Ah’s only utterance is ‘Lee Yeon’ but the subs just say ‘Yeon’?

Subs: “This has nothing to do with the old master of the mountain. Why don’t you keep walking?” I would have translated this as: “It is a matter unrelated to the former master of the mountain. Beg, go along your way.” She’s once again using olden-speech in her second sentence.

Lol Sub: “Says the living corpse.” I like this sub. Yeon’s line is quite literally: “With the ‘juje’ of a living corpse...” ‘Juje’ is essentially your station or lot in life, and it’s used almost exclusively derogatorily.

Sub: “Who was it that provided you with longevity you don’t deserve?” More closely: “Who was it? The one who gave you a lifespan so much longer than you deserve?”

Yeon: “I asked you whom you serve!” (literally ‘what’ you serve). Yeon once again drops into an archaic cant for this line. It serves to underline his full age and gives his demand an extra air of authority.

Yeon’s TAILS. I can’t believe this was the last we saw of them. ㅠㅠ Personally, I interpreted the firey tails as being a sort of ‘shadow’/ projection of his actual tails, which I assumed were actually more physically there (since he talks about shampooing them in the teaser interview). My sister thinks differently, though. Guess we’ll never know...

The BGM for this sequence is naturally ‘Gumiho.’ If you read our EP01 breakdown, you’ll know I was fully expecting this to be Yeon’s theme. But no, it’s the whimsical 'The Fox’s Wedding Day’ instead haha

Okay, Yeon just casually smiting the mudang is pretty badass. Seeing as he can command lightning, I’m pretty sure he was joking when he told Ji Ah, ‘even gumiho are afraid of electricity.’

If by chance you wondered what was going though Yeon’s mind when he smote the mudang, it’s featured in the EP03 subtitle poster.

I appreciated that Yeon just accepts Ji Ah at her word here when she tells him all she needs from him is one arm for support. I feel like in most dramas the male lead would have just forcefully swept the heroine off her feet amidst her protests, which I always find more problematic than romantic.

For that matter, when it became clear that Ji Ah really did need help, I appreciated that she didn’t act shy or coy and just accepted being carried without making a big deal of it.

Pfft The way Ji Ah’s eyes flash when Yeon tells her the mudang was just a human being says it all.

Yeon: “So you say... Excuse me, but you nearly died just now, you know?” This line is once again cheekily in jondaetmal.

*Ominous close up of the well*

Thank You

We catch up with Shin Joo at the supermarket as he talks to Yeon over the phone.

Shin Joo’s ‘PD-nim’ has once again become, ‘the director lady’ in the subs. *Sigh*

Subs: “Your love story is more than just famous among us.” Actually: “Just how famous is Lee Yeon-nim’s love story in our world? It’s obvious your younger brother* must have been playing tricks!”

Shin Joo refers to Rang here as ‘donsaeng-bun’ (younger sibling + polite word for person) for the same reason he calls Rang, ‘Lee Rang-nim.’ It’s an extension of his regard for Yeon, rather than for Rang himself.

Lol Shin Joo hanging up on Yeon. His love for supermarkets and fried chicken are actually in his character profile. Apparently, they’re what convinced him living as a human was worth the existential crisis that came with it.

Sub: “I’m too much of a human to easily fall asleep after such an event. Join me.” More literally: “I’m human, so on a day like today I can’t sleep sober. You* have a glass, too.”

The word Ji Ah uses for ‘you’ here is ‘ja’ne’ (자네), which is a polite term... except it’s only used to refer to people younger than you. So’s she’s talking down to him politely haha This is what prompts Yeon’s line that follows it:

Sub: “I never said anything since it could make seem old-fashioned, but you’re too informal with me when you don’t even know my age.”

Yeon: I kept holding it in thinking you’d call me an old fart, but you’re [using] banmal really blatantly. Just how old do you think I am?”

Yeon’s ‘Just how old do you think I am?’ is rhetorical. It’s not that Ji Ah is necessarily unaware of his true age, but rather that she acts as if she is.

Sub: “Those over 60 are universally considered as grandpas.” Actually: “You know everyone over 60 can be called a grandpa, right?”

Pfft Sub: “Be as informal as you like.” What Yeon literally says is, “Please lower your speech,” but he uses very respectful language to say it. I’m not sure if he’s being sarcastic, or if he just hates the thought of being considered a grandpa that much haha It’s probably a bit of both.

Aww Ji Ah promising to protect Yeon. I luff her.

Ji Ah: "Do I perhaps have something you’re looking for?” I love that she doesn’t miss a thing.

Lol Yeon: “Who am I, Jesus? Just drink what you have.”

The Vanishing

Subs: “Don’t ever resort to cursing people again. Karma can sting.” Quite literally: “You were lucky you kept your life, but don’t do such a thing* as cursing others ever again. They return, you know. Back on the one who casts them.”

*Yeon uses the disparagement marker ‘ddaui’ (따위) to refer to the act of cursing someone here. You may recall it from our EP01 breakdown.

Ji Ah chooses this moment to come running in to announce that the island has turned into a ghost town over night, which is enough to make even Yeon pause, perplexed.

I love the way Yeon and Ji Ah exchange looks here on the dock. They don’ t know what’s up yet, but they intend to find out.

‘Blue Moon’~~~ This worked great scored over the drone-camera pan out. I may be slightly biased, though.

And that concludes Episode 3. Once again, thank you to everyone who commented or left feedback on the last episode! Never hesitate to send me your thoughts, even if they’re just to say what you found funny or surprising. It helps me to know what’s of interest for one thing, but I also just enjoy chatting about the show. ;)

A brief note on pronunciation/notation: for words like ‘sa’ingeom’ and ‘mi’ryeon,’ the apostrophe is there just as a pronunciation guide. So in the case of the former, to indicate that it’s pronounced ‘sah-in’ and not ‘sine’ or ‘sane.’ Similarly, for the latter, the apostrophe is just to indicate that this should be pronounced ‘mi-ryeon’ and not ‘mir-yeon.’ I could have just as easily done this with ‘Hyeon’ui’ong’ except that’s a lot of apostrophes and I set an earlier precedent of not. It’s not an aspiration or anything fancy. Hopefully that makes sense.

Once again, I’d like to credit my sister for being the main researcher and fact-checker for these, in addition to weighing in on all the translations. I don’t always take her advice, but I do always appreciate it haha.

Thank you also to everyone who bought us coffee! Your support is truly felt and appreciated ♡ As usual, this took an ungodly amount of time, so every coffee helps haha. For anyone just joining us (or not), if you’d like to see more of these, please consider buying us a coffee. If you follow the link, you can buy a $2 cup of virtual coffee. This helps me to gauge how much interest there is, and also how much value people place on these. If you cared enough to read all the way to the end, please at least consider it. Once I’ve established there’s enough interest, I’ll proceed with Episode 4. ;)

#tale of the nine tailed #totnt #lost in translation #구미호뎐 #kdrama #korean language #happy new year!

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awkwardpenguinproductions · 4 years ago

Text

Camaraderie

Part 4 of the Dragon of the Yuyan

Read on AO3 | Series Masterpost

Spring is in the air, as Kai likes to “sing”. The accursed snow is gone, and each day is a little warmer than the one before. Zuko barely notices.

The winter has flown by once he began training with his squad and with Master Ryoichi in earnest. He had begun measuring time not in hours or days or weeks, but in how many pushups he could do at a time, how far he could draw his bow to his anchor point, and how much longer it would be before the Master would introduce a new form. Nobody treats him like he's useless, even if he can't yet shoot with any degree of consistent accuracy. Kai and Jiyoti and Mika are always down to watch him demonstrate his firebending, and the awe and excitement on their faces makes Zuko feel like he can do anything. Even if Commander Toshiaki's dialed back his "missions" to test the Stronghold's security, Zuko's too busy training with his squad, joking around with Kai, and helping out with the komodo-rhinos and the messenger hawks to really care. He's pretty sure of his place with the Archers now, for the most part, and if Agni forbid he does manage to get kicked out, he can mostly take care of himself now. It would hurt, but it wouldn't be the end of the world.

It doesn’t register what day it is until he gets down to the mess for breakfast and sees the calendar. He freezes like a fox-antelope facing down a saber-toothed moose lion. His scar burns.

It’s been a year.

At noon today, it will be a year to the hour that Zuko begged his father for mercy on the floor of the Agni Kai arena, and got a face full of fire for his weakness.

Zuko can’t breathe.

A hand lands gently on his shoulder, and Zuko flinches with his entire body like he hasn’t done in weeks, in months. The hand shifts like it’s going to pull away, then resettles, firmer yet still gentle. Another hand taps between his shoulder blades, waits, then pats, waits, then pats with more force, until Zuko takes a tearing, ragged, gasping breath. The hand on his back rubs up and down his spine, soothing as Zuko wheezes though the buzzard-wasp drone of panic engulfing his body.

After what feels like an eternity, Zuko comes back to himself to find all the members of Chihese Squad gathered around him. Mika has him wrapped loosely in her arms, one hand on his shoulder and the other rubbing his back. Kai stands close enough to touch, dark Yuyan eyes wide and and worried. Jiyoti and Captain Hiroki are flanking the trio, the tension in their bodies screaming “don’t come anywhere near us!”.

Kai sees him looking around and smiles. Back with us, Danger Noodle? He signs.

Zuko swallows against his parched throat and nods.

You wanna talk about it, kid? Captain Hiroki asks. When Zuko shakes his head sharply, the older man nods. Alright then, let’s eat before we’re late for PT.

The last thing Zuko wants to do is eat, but being hungry makes him anxious, so he follows his squad to the tables where the mess staff lay out food. When Mika shoots him a Look, Zuko sighs and grabs a bowl of okayu, about the only thing he can stomach at times like these.

At the table, Jiyoti passes around cups of tea. The scent of jasmine nearly brings tears to Zuko’s eyes, and he can’t bring himself to do more than clutch the cup and ache with longing for his uncle’s calm, fragrant tea room in the palace.

A bao appears under his nose, and Zuko looks up to see Kai holding it out with a small, sad smile on his face. He places it beside Zuko’s untouched bowl of okayu and signs, You need to eat something, Zuko. Come on, it’s sweet bean, your favorite.

Zuko can’t say no to that face, even though his stomach is writhing like a nest of two-headed rat-vipers. He nibbles on the bao while the rest of the squad signs over his head. For once, he doesn't even try to keep up with the conversations, just keeps his eyes glued to his bao. Once that's gone, he slumps down, feeling like his whole body is wrapped in iron plating, making it nearly impossible to move. Someone scoots his okayu closer, and with what feels like a monumental effort, he starts spooning it up in tiny, slow bites.

He's halfway through the bowl when he just can't eat any more, and pushes it quietly away. Kai rubs his shoulder, and Zuko leans into the touch. His scar doesn't burn as bad anymore, but he still feels numb to the rest of his body, and Kai's touch is like a strong ray of sunshine in a frozen wasteland.

As one, the squad rises from the table, with Zuko half a step behind. They walk, Kai's arm now wrapped firmly around Zuko's shoulders as though to keep him from floating away, and Zuko doesn't really pay attention to where they're going until they're on the training fields.

The movements of the conditioning and strengthening exercises ease some of the weight on his body and bring some awareness back to his mind, so he feels almost normal by the time the Troop moves on to the archery range. The repetitive aim-pull-loose of shooting is very soothing. He's still learning how to aim consistently, so his arrows are a bit all over the place, but they're all in the target, so that's improvement, he guesses.

The time flies, and soon it's time to stop for lunch. Zuko's appetite has reemerged, and he manages an entire bowl of spicy noodles, much to his squad's relief.

Afterward, he heads over to where the firebenders do their training. He's the only one in the Stronghold who's still technically "in training" under Master Ryoichi, so his lessons are one-on-one, but there's always firebenders in the practice yard doing their own training. Today the practice yard is much less crowded than normal, and the people training there shoot him friendly smiles or nods but otherwise keep their distance, which Zuko appreciates. He's still feeling off from whatever happened this morning, and he just wants to do what he needs to do and be done with today.

Master Ryoichi raises an eyebrow at him, but doesn't comment on whatever is concerning about his appearance. They go through warm ups, review past forms, and the Master drills him on a new sequence that seems to twist his muscles up in knots. The Master's teaching style reminds him quite a lot of Uncle Iroh's––he only very rarely shouts, usually because something really dangerous is happening, but is otherwise soft-spoken and shockingly gentle for a Firebending Master. He only touches Zuko when he absolutely has to, to correct his stances and forms, and is positive and encouraging with him, something the palace masters Before had never been.

They end the training session with sparring, which Zuko loves. When he first started training with Master Ryoichi, sparring was a terrifying concept–– the palace masters never missed the opportunity to use it to force him to meet impossible expectations, and then berate him when he inevitably failed. But Master Ryoichi never expects more from Zuko than he can give, and has slowly made Zuko realize that sparring can be fun. The first (and so far only) time Zuko had managed to put the Master on the ground, the older man had grinned and congratulated him on his clever technique. The last time he'd won against one of the palace masters, the man had berated him for half an hour on how the win had been a fluke and how Zuko was a disgrace to firebenders everywhere.

This spar starts out simple, with the Master sending Zuko fireballs to practice his blocks and redirects, and Zuko returning fire with the intention of breaking the Master's rooted stance. Every so often the Master will call out tips and corrections and encouragement, and Zuko will do his best to comply, feeling a grin stretch across his face. They start coming in closer, using the fire-daggers technique that the Master had taught him a few weeks ago, a more advanced move that the palace masters would never have considered teaching Zuko Before.

Zuko gets distracted wondering if he could possibly firebend with his dao, and suddenly finds himself flat on his back on the ground, Master Ryoichi's flame-wreathed fist inches from his face. The Master's face morphs in a split second into Father's, sneering and cold, and Zuko's scar bursts back to life as his eyes squeeze shut.

He can't help himself.

Zuko screams.

He hears voices, feels hands on his shoulders, head, back, but Zuko is lost in fire and pain and terror so complete that he's blind and deaf to everything but his pulse roaring in his ears. He can't breathe, and his heart feels like it's going to punch its way right out of his chest, and all he can think is not again not again not again Father please not again NOT AGAIN!

A hand touches his face, and Zuko cries out and blindly swipes fire through the air. Someone shouts, and he whimpers and curls his body up tight, waiting for a beating, for a burn, for something that he knows is going to happen and is going to hurt. He's crying, sobbing in terror, and his whole body is shaking like a sapling in a wind storm, and his scar hurts like the day he got it, a year ago today.

He doesn't know how long he's like this before the waves of terror ebb away, leaving him limp and exhausted on the ground. He has a headache the size of Ba Sing Se, his scar still hurts like when it was fresh, and his shoulders and neck are sore from tension.

"Back with us, Cadet?" Dr. Atsuko's voice sounded like it was coming from far away, and Zuko opened his eyes to find her kneeling primly just out of arm's reach on the ground, right in his line of sight. Kai and Captain Hiroki are sat on either side of her, with Mika and Jiyoti just behind them. Kai is dead white under his Yuyan tan, and Jiyoti's eyes are wide and watery, while Mika and Captain Hiroki just look grim and worried.

"Master Ryoichi sent for me about an hour ago, after he couldn't get you to respond to him," she continues, dark bronze eyes assessing him keenly. "Can I check you over?"

Zuko gulps. He's not sure how he feels about being touched right now, but he's also a little weirded out that he apparently lost an hour. No wonder he's so sore.

"I'll be gentle," Dr. Atsuko assures him, and actually smiles. It looks a little strange coming from the stoic CMO, but it's small and a little lopsided and softens her face incredibly, and Zuko is immediately reminded of his mother and his heart aches.

He nods, just barely, and Dr. Atsuko's cool hands touch various spots on his body with exquisite gentleness. Zuko's skin still crawls though, and he shuts his eyes and tries not to flinch.

Snapping fingers make him open them again, and he looks at Kai, who's still pale but has a smaller, comforting version of his usual broad grin on his face.

Good to see you, Danger Noodle, he signs slowly, making sure that Zuko can see each movement of his hands. You had us worried there for a bit.

Zuko's heart sinks. He really screwed up this time, making his squad worry. Doggedly ignoring the stiffness in his arms, he balls a fist and rubs it weakly in a circle on his chest.

"You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about, kid," Dr. Atsuko declares sharply. "You had a really bad panic attack, and you don't need any additional stress right now. Captain Hiroki is going to take you back to the dorm and you are going straight to bed. This idiot––" she reaches back and smacks Kai on the back of the head, causing the older teen to pout "––is going to keep his hands still if he can't keep his foot out of his mouth."

Captain Hiroki leans forward. Can I help you up, Cadet?

Zuko doesn't really understand why people keep asking if they can touch him, but he appreciates the warning, so he nods slowly and takes the hand that the Captain extends to him. The older man easily pulls him to his feet, but Zuko's knees feel like water and don't want to hold his weight. He lets out an undignified squeak as he starts to fall, but Kai is there immediately, looping one of Zuko's arms around his neck and wrapping one of his own around Zuko's waist. When Zuko blinks at him in surprise, Kai just gives him a small, apologetic smile. Mika slips into place on Zuko's other side, and the pair of them basically carry Zuko back to the dorm, following Captain Hiroki who seems to be clearing their path with the force of his presence alone.

They make it back to the Yuyan dorm and tuck Zuko into his bunk. Jiyoti spreads Zuko's koala-sheep wool cloak over him, then his regular blanket, because the entire squad knows how much Zuko hates being cold.

Hey, Zuko, can I sit with you? Asks Mika. Zuko nods, a little confused. His squad has guard duty soon, shouldn't they be getting ready?

Mika settles herself beside Zuko and drops a hand onto his head. Zuko's hair is nearly long enough for a real topknot, and Mika strokes it like he's a pygmy puma kitten. Zuko freezes in shock before melting into the touch. He hasn't had someone do this since before Mom left.

Jiyoti asks if she can sit on his other side, and he nods vaguely, too busy enjoying Mika's petting to pay any real attention. Kai doesn't even ask before he clambers onto the foot of the bunk, sitting in lotus position and grinning widely at all of them.

Damn, Danger Noodle, getting all the ladies! He signs. Jiyoti and Mika glare at him, and Captain Hiroki smacks him on the back of the head.

I'm going to report to Commander Toshiaki that we're going to need to be taken off duty rotation for at least today, the Captain announces. Anybody need anything from the mess?

Zuko needs fire-flakes, Kai declares. Zuko considers kicking him, but in the end decides against it, because really, he's not wrong on a normal day, but right now he can't even think about eating. Jiyoti's glare intensifies though, and she kicks him instead.

Stop being obnoxious, Kai! She demands.

Here's a wild notion, Mika signs, turning a deadpan look on Kai. Zuko immediately misses her hand in his hair, but Jiyoti takes over almost seamlessly, scritching gently along his hairline behind his unscarred ear in a way that makes him melt and want to purr like a pygmy puma. How about we ask Zuko what he needs?

What an excellent suggestion, Sergeant, Captain Hiroki replies. Cadet Zuko? Do you need anything to eat or drink?

It takes everything Zuko has, but he limply manages to sign, Water?

Right away, Cadet, the Captain replies, a small smile crossing his face. I'll be right back.

Zuko sinks back into his bunk, Jiyoti and Mika snug against him on each side. He's so tired, but his head is clearer than it's been all day, like that panic attack had swept away all of the tension and fear he'd been carrying since he saw the calendar in the mess hall. He closes his eyes and lets the warmth of his squad around him sink into his bones.

After a while, someone gently pokes his arm, and he opens his eyes to find Commander Toshiaki sitting beside his bunk, sharing a pot of tea with Mika and Captain Hiroki while Kai and Jiyoti bicker. The Commander's eyes meet his own, and the older man puts his cup down.

Just wanted to check in on you after hearing Captain Hiroki's and Dr. Atsuko's reports, he signs, slow and calm. How are you feeling, Cadet?

Zuko takes inventory, finds himself still tired but not as blah as before, and shrugs. Mika pours him some water from a nearby pitcher, which feels incredible on his parched throat.

Hey Danger Noodle, up for some fire-flakes? Kai asks, holding out a small pouch.

"Don't you give him that shit, Private!" Dr. Atsuko's voice snaps out like a whip, and even though it makes Zuko jump, the way Kai jerks and flails and drops the bag of fire-flakes makes Zuko grin. Kai pouts first at Zuko, then at Dr. Atsuko.

Sorry Doc, Kai signs petulantly.

"You'll be even more sorry if he eats those and then throws them back up on you," Dr. Atsuko replies as she sets a tray down on the table between Zuko's bunk and Kai's. Sitting on the tray is a small copper pot and a bowl. "If he is ready, he's going to start with some broth first so we don't shock his system."

Zuko catches the scent of the broth and his stomach immediately growls like a tigerdillo. The entire squad and Commander Toshiaki all grin, and even Dr. Atsuko cracks a smile as she ladles broth into the bowl.

"That's definitely a good sign," she comments as she holds the bowl out. Zuko scrambles to sit up, and eagerly takes the bowl from her. It's just a simple chicken broth, probably the base for whatever the mess cooks are going to serve for dinner tonight, but it's warm and delicious, and he feels more normal after drinking it than he has all day.

Kai starts telling a story about his first encounter with a komodo-rhino, exaggerating his signs and making all kinds of stupid faces that has the whole squad grinning and laughing silently. Zuko finishes his broth and snuggles down between Mika and Jiyoti, watching Kai and then Captain Hiroki tell stories and feeling wonderfully warm and safe.

And then Master Ryoichi steps into the dorm, and stops a few feet away from Zuko's bunk. Zuko immediately tenses upon seeing him, and Mika and Jiyoti both notice. Mika's hand goes to the knife she always has at the small of her back, and Jiyoti wraps an arm around Zuko's shoulders.

The Master forms the Flame and bows deeply. "I only wish to convey my apologies to Cadet Zuko, and wish him a speedy recovery," he says. "I should have known better than to hold fire so close to such a terrible wound. Please forgive me, my brave pupil."

Zuko blinks, but nods hesitantly.

Master Ryoichi favors him with a small smile. "Thank you, Pupil Zuko. You honor me. I hope to see you on the training field tomorrow."

Kai jumps to his feet, eyes narrowed in fury, stance wide and shoulders back in indignation. Are you kidding me?! That's crazy! He shouldn't ever have to firebend again if he doesn't want to! Not if it makes him scream and cry for an hour like he did today!

Captain Hiroki snaps his fingers, and Kai snaps to attention, entire body rigid. Private, you are out of line! Apologize to Master Ryoichi at once!

"It's alright, Captain, he's only trying to protect his friend," Master Ryoichi soothes. "Private Kai, what happened today was unfortunate, but one cannot let fear dictate what one does or doesn't do. Cadet Zuko is a firebender. This is a truth that cannot be changed or circumvented. The sooner he faces and overcomes that which makes him afraid, the better off he will be."

It's okay, Kai, Zuko signs. He's touched by his best friend's protectiveness, but Master Ryoichi is right. He can't have a panic attack anytime a little fire gets too close to his face.

He turns to his firebending teacher and bows with the Flame. I will report for training at our regular time, Sifu Ryoichi.

Master Ryoichi grins. "I'm honored by your trust in me, Pupil Zuko. I will see you then. Rest well."

Goodnight, Master Ryoichi, the rest of the squad sign in unison, and the firebending master bows and leaves.

Hey Zuko, did I ever tell you about the time I put an eel in my older brother's bed? Kai asks.

No, tell me! Zuko demands, snuggling down again between Mika and Jiyoti.

Well, it all started because he'd threatened to braid my bowstrings into a fishing net…

Zuko grins as Kai mimics the snooty look on his older brother's face, pretending to scold the younger Kai for spending too much time with his bow. Jiyoti shudders with disgust as he describes wrestling the eel into his brother's futon, and Mika hides her smirk behind a badly constructed expression of disapproval. Captain Hiroki just sighs and keeps Zuko's water cup full.

Dinner time comes and goes, but his squad never leaves his side, until the signal for bunk-time sounds. One by one, his squad members leave to get ready for bed, but they always wait for the absent member to come back before the next person leaves, and soon they're all in their night-clothes but otherwise look like they haven't moved in hours. When the signal for lights out sounds, Jiyoti and Mika reluctantly head to their own bunks, but Kai stubbornly refuses, laying down on top of the blankets and wrapping Zuko in his strong arms. Zuko falls asleep to his best friend's snores.

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#atla #atla fanfic #awkpenproductions presents #dragon of the yuyan #part 4 camaraderie #full text post

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twentiethcenturymoviesandtv · 4 years ago

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Star Trek: Genre and Themes

Considering the fact that Star Trek was pitched as “Wagon Train in space”, it seems almost redundant to discuss the genre of such a show.

Since the beginning, Gene Roddenberry’s show’s genre seemed pretty obvious: science fiction-western. And really, it’s hard to argue with that. Kirk’s style has been outright referred to as ‘cowboy diplomacy’ by future installations of Star Trek. The adventures and ‘exploration’ of the new territory is very reminiscent of the western television shows of the time, and the setting of outer space would seem to place it pretty firmly in the ‘science fiction’ genre as well.

But, like always, there’s a little more to it than that.

As I’ve mentioned many times before, very few pieces of media can be categorized as only one genre. Even the most seemingly obvious and one-dimensional examples have elements of other genres. No show is designed to fit into only one genre, with any individual television program carrying many characteristics of one specific genre, while sharing many elements of other genres.

And while it may be easy to look at the setting of a film or television show and use that to determine a genre (space = sci-fi, medieval = fantasy), that doesn’t mean it’s terribly accurate.

Such is the case of Star Trek.

As a matter of fact, despite Roddenberry’s initial pitch to the studios, Star Trek actually doesn’t have a whole lot in common with the westerns of the day (Besides Spectre of the Gun). Kirk’s ‘cowboy’ nature actually doesn’t come into play nearly as much as one would think. Captain Kirk’s decision making isn’t quite the same as a traditional western lead, weighing more factors than just ‘frontier justice’. For another, the setup is totally different. The Enterprise is a military exploration ship, full of people on a mission, not just of exploration, but of diplomacy. Kirk’s job is not only to defeat ‘bad guys’, but to find the best solutions for problems of other cultures.

So while Kirk’s ‘good old fisticuffs’ solutions may seem a bit more of the ‘Wild Wild West’ than later incarnations of the show would resort to, it doesn’t make it a western. In fact, Star Trek has far more in common with future versions of science fiction shows than one might think.

Star Trek, at its core, is a show about an optimistic utopia, a future where humanity has learned to straighten itself out. A future where there is no oppression, no prejudice, no poverty, but of a unified, educated, compassionate Earth, reaching out into the galaxy to explore, extending a hand of friendship. This is Kirk’s job: being the hand of friendship. Set in a distant future, a twenty-third century where Earth’s problems are solved, as such, there is no need to examine humanity’s flaws as they are.

At least, not directly.

As is done with many examples of the soft science fiction (or speculative fiction) genre, Star Trek uses its setting and set-up to examine the problems with our own society through the disguise of another. Routinely, Kirk and the gang land on a planet or meet a people that represent a part of humanity that is less than pleasant to look at. Episodes like Let That Be Your Last Battlefield take a scathing look at racism, a huge social issue in the late 1960s. Other episodes examined topics like the Vietnam war, labor, and, a science-fiction favorite, the dangers of technology.

Add this onto the ‘traveling through the stars’ plotline of Star Trek, and you’ve got yourself a pretty good argument for a solid science fiction show, with or without the western elements to it. With that said, that doesn’t mean there’s more to the show than just sci-fi.

Star Trek’s storylines typically fell into the category of action or adventure. There were gunfights (or phaserfights), fistfights, chases, daring escapes, and space-battles galore. There was typically at least one hair-raising action scene per episode (with a few exceptions, such as The Trouble with Tribbles or The Way to Eden). Even the episodes without ‘action’ per say as it would later be solidified in shows like The A-Team or Magnum P.I. turned out a decent ‘adventure’ story, with emphasis on the journey and adventure as a whole, rather than action-packed sequences that kept audiences on the edge of their seat.

Star Trek was all about the adventure, as even the opening credits will make clear. The voyage of the Enterprise is aimed at discovery and exploration. The setup of the show is, at its core, the greatest adventure: exploring the unknown. Every episode is aimed at the exploration of the human experience and curiosity. By definition, an adventure is a risky undertaking, and the exploration of deep space and discovering new civilizations and planets is nothing if not risky.

It’s pretty easy to say that Star Trek fits pretty neatly into the ‘sci-fi/adventure’ category, although it does have shades of other genres. Episodes like Shore Leave, The Trouble with Tribbles, I Mudd, and A Piece of the Action have a distinct comedic slant to them, whereas episodes like Catspaw, The Enemy Within, Wolf in the Fold, and The Man Trap have a rather sinister, horror/thriller edge. Other episodes have dabbled into courtroom dramas, tragedies, westerns, and even war, giving all three seasons a wide range of types of stories that they tell. However, one genre that Star Trek has always been the absolute master of, even more than science-fiction or adventure, has been the genre of drama.

At the heart of every Star Trek episode, no matter how cerebral or action-packed, is an overarching sense of drama. Not drama in the ‘soap opera’ sense, mind you, but drama as in real character interaction and growth. The drama in Star Trek is in McCoy and Spock’s argument in Bread and Circuses, in the death of a recently married lieutenant in Balance of Terror, in the death of Kirk’s brother in Operation: Annihilate. Star Trek’s dramatic moments are rooted in character, from Spock’s admittance and sharing of Vulcan rituals in Amok Time and his muted desperation at thinking that he’s killed his Captain in a burst of uncontrollable rage to the doomed romance between Kirk and Edith Keeler in City On the Edge of Forever. The drama in Star Trek is in people, whether human or not.

The examples of Star Trek’s use of characters, be they regular or not, is truly groundbreaking. From Spock’s mind-meld with the Horta in Devil in the Dark to Kirk’s terrifying identity crisis in The Enemy Within, Star Trek’s strength is in the people, in the personal dynamics between the characters, most notably between the main trio of Kirk, Spock, and McCoy. Even the other, more minor characters on the show received levels of characterization unheard of for the time: Sulu’s love of botany and retro weaponry, Uhura’s musical ability, Scotty’s intelligence and romantic troubles, and Chekov’s obsession with spouting totally innaccurate Russian history, possibly just to annoy the rest of the crew. Even Nurse Chapel’s flashes of snark helped her stand apart from the many nameless crew members who came and went throughout the series.

In short, Star Trek’s characters were people. Nowhere was this more evident than in Mr. Spock.

By the 1960s, most ‘alien’ characters on television were either jokes or monsters, cast as gimmicks in My Favorite Martian or as evil conquerors in shows like The Twilight Zone or The Invaders. But in Star Trek, the ‘alien’ was as ‘human’ as the rest of us, if you’ll pardon the phrase.

A Mr. Spock type character was unheard of in 1966. A half-human, half-alien, treated as a respected equal of the rest of the crew, was a completely foreign concept at the time. Spock’s development as a character, and indeed, his criticism of the human condition proved to be one of Star Trek’s best elements of its use of character and drama. Spock as a character was constantly at war with himself, torn between the outwardly emotionless Vulcan half, and his emotional, illogical human half. Spock’s internal struggle proved to be one of the most gripping elements of the show, and as his interactions with Kirk and McCoy proved, although Spock did not like to be compared to humans, in many ways, he was more ‘human’ than we are. His subtle flashes of emotion and occasional bursts of illogical behavior proved repeatedly that there was a lot more to Spock than what he tried to let on. He, along with the other members of the cast, had layers.

And Star Trek was very good at exploring those layers.

No science-fiction show would introduce characters with layers to explore if they hadn’t had every intention of making the show hang on the relationships of the characters. And the relationships of characters is the absolute core of drama.

In the end, Star Trek is a science-fiction adventure drama, a speculative look at the nature of humanity and people in general. Star Trek is a look at a better future, an improved society turned to exploration. It’s about the new frontier, about the best and worst of humanity, about friendship, adventure, and morality, full of good and memorable stories and characters. It paved the way for even more complex shows to follow, and remains one of the most thought-provoking and earnest shows of all time.

Even now, audiences remember those characters, those stories, those little moments with these people that they grew to know. They hold up, remaining just as genuine and heartfelt as they were in 1966.

And they owe that, in no small part, to those wonderful characters.

But that’s a discussion for next time.

Thank you guys so much for reading! Don’t forget that my ask box is always open for conversation, suggestions, or questions. Stay tuned for the next article, where we’ll be looking at the crew of the Enterprise and their roles in Star Trek. I hope to see you there!

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crowdvscritic · 4 years ago

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round up // JANUARY 21

New year, not-so-new Crowd vs. Critic! It’s another batch of films, TV, music, and reads that were new to me this month and think you would enjoy, too. As we cozy up inside for the winter, nothing warms you up like a good piece of pop culture.

January Crowd-Pleasers

Wonder Woman 1984 (2020)

Does this sequel reach the heights of 2017’s Wonder Woman? No, but I wish more superhero movies were like this one. I explain why at ZekeFilm. Crowd: 9.5/10 // Critic: 8/10

21 Bridges (2019)

A solid action crime thriller with a solid Chadwick Boseman at the center. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7.5/10

The Lethal Weapon Series (1987-98)

I watched the first Lethal Weapon in 2017 for ZekeFilm, but now I’ve a decade’s pleasure of progressively over-the-top action sequences and progressively more absurd ways to destroy Roger Murtaugh’s (Danny Glover) house. The Murtaugh/Riggs bromance holds this progressively sillier series together, and an supporting cast of charismatic actors (Jet Li, Darlene Love, Chris Rock, Rene Russo) are game for whatever comes their way. Joe Pesci is the true MVP. Series Crowd: 9/10 // Series Critic: 7/10

The High Note (2020)

Tracee Ellis Ross’s Grace Davis is a diva in every sense of the word. A high-strung and highly successful singer, she’s also highly demanding of her assistant Maggie (Dakota Johnson), who wants to step out of her shadow and become a music producer. This rom-com-adjacent flick is one of the most fun escapes I’ve had from a 2020 movie, and it’s perfect for a girls’ night in. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 7/10

Double Feature—Rom-Coms With a Magical Twist: Just My Luck (2006) + When In Rome (2010)

Disclaimer: These movies are not good. In fact, they’re junk, but they’re my kind of junk. In Just My Luck (Crowd: 7.5/10 // Critic: 6/10), Lindsay Lohan loses her life-long lucky streak when she kisses schlimazel Chris Pine. And When in Rome (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 6/10), Kristen Bell attracts unwanted admirers (Will Arnett, Danny DeVito, Josh Duhamel, Jon Heder, and real-life future husband Dax Shepard) after she steals their coins from a wishing fountain. To their credit, both of these movies know they’re silly, which means you have permission to just sit back and laugh along with (or, honestly, at) them.

WandaVision (2021)

I sometimes fear for the world of entertainment when I think of how much intellectual property Disney has gobbled up, but WandaVision is evidence the company is a benevolent dictator at least for now. This odd delight is a send up and a tribute to sitcoms like I Love Lucy, I Dream of Jeannie, and The Brady Bunch, and Paul Bettany and Elizabeth Olsen are so charming and weird I don’t need whatever mysterious sub-plot they’re building.

Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993)

If you want to make the most of watching Robin Hood: Men in Tights, first watch Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991), an action flick I saw last February and didn’t include in my monthly Round Up. This Mel Brooks spoof is a direct response that self-serious Kevin Costner adventure, even down to copying its costumes. While I wish I could find a Mel Brooks comedy with any substantial female character (in every movie I’ve seen so far, the joke is either, “She’s got a great rack!” or “Wow, she’s an uggo!”), I still couldn’t stop laughing at this 104-minute version of the Robin Hood scene in Shrek. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 8/10

Aliens (1986)

Peak ‘80s action. Peak alien grossness. Peak girl boss Sigourney Weaver. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 8/.510

Big (1988)

After talking about Laverne & Shirley with Kyla on SO IT’S A SHOW?, I had to check out Penny Marshall’s classic. While a few moments haven’t aged so well, its heart is sweet and the script is hilarious. And that Tom Hanks? I think he’s going places. Crowd: 9.5/10 // Critic: 8/10

Unstoppable (2010)

I’ve laughed at SNL’s spoof of this movie for a decade, so it’s about time I got around to enjoying this action thriller very loosely based on the true story of a train that got away from its conductor. Denzel Washington (“You’re too old!”) and Chris Pine (“You’re too young!”) are our heroes in this over-the-top ridiculousness, and their chemistry is so extra it makes me hope they team up for another movie again. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 7/10

January Critic Picks

Double Feature—‘90s Space Adventures: Apollo 13 (1995) + Contact (1997)

I have no desire to join Tom Cruise as he films in space, but I know I’ll be pumped to watch whatever he makes because I love sci-fi and space adventures. Apollo 13 (Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 9/10) tells the story of an almost-disastrous NASA mission in the ‘60s, and it taps into our hope for the human spirit to overcome obstacles. Contact (Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 8.5/10) surmises what might happen if we received communication from extraterrestrial life, and it taps into our struggle to reconcile faith and science.

McCartney III by Paul McCartney (2020)

I spent January catching up on the albums on Best of 2020 lists, and the one I listened to for hours and hours was Paul McCartney’s latest solo album. Catchy, thoughtful, and musically surprising, it ranges from pop to rock to folk in 45 minutes and still feels like it’s over too soon. Like Tom Hanks, this Paul McCartney guy is going places!

The Thin Man Series (1934-47)

Like Lethal Weapon, I watched the first installment of The Thin Man awhile back, and Kyla and I even covered the series on our podcast. But thanks to a full series marathon on TCM earlier this month, I’ve now laughed through all five. When you talk about great chemistry, you’ve got to talk about William Powell and Myrna Loy, who make Nick and Nora’s marriage feel lived in and romantic as they solve crimes together. Witty, suspenseful, and jaunty, this series is still sexy cool over 80 years later. (Also, Asta? Still one of the cutest dogs in cinema.) Series Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 8.5/10

The King and I (1956)

Here’s your regularly scheduled reminder Hollywood works differently now, and many casting decisions of the ‘50s wouldn’t fly today. What has aged well in this film: The Rodgers and Hammerstein music and the sumptuous costumes and set design. I love extravagant musicals of yesteryear—perhaps it’s time for Hollywood to revisit and remake The King and I for modern audiences?

youtube

Inauguration Day

In a year with no major televised events with celebrities in a room together, Inauguration Day felt like the most exciting cultural event in ages. We’ve been missing major fashion, but then we got Lady Gaga! We’ve been missing live performances, but then we got Amanda Gorman! And I got a lot of tears during that poem—not just me, right?

Good Reads

Writing that made me think and smile this month:

Steven Soderbergh’s list of everything he read, watched, and listened to this year, Extension765.com (2020) – An indirect inspiration for these monthly Round Ups!

“My Year of Making Lists,” NewYorker.com (2020) – I made a lot of lists in 2020, so I feel this author’s #mood

“Betty White Says She Will Spend Her 99th Birthday Feeding Two Ducks Who Visit Her ‘Every Day,’“ CBSNews.com (2021) - “Betty is a treasure,” I say as I watch The Proposal for the 99th time

“A Sculpture’s Unusual Journey to SLAM [St. Louis Art Museum],” SLAM.org (2020) – With a casual mention of an attraction I never knew about in St. Louis

“The Culture Is Ailing. It’s Time for a Dr. Fauci for the Arts.” WashingtonPost.com (2020) – An idea that occurred to me a few months ago: Why don’t we have an Arts Cabinet?

“The Arts Are in Crisis. Here’s How Biden Can Help.” NYTimes.com (2021) – Partly in response to that Washington Post piece, a historical look at how artists have made it through difficult times in the past and how we can revive artists’ livelihoods mid- and post-pandemic

“The Right’s Message to Silicon Valley: 'Free Speech for Me, But Not for Thee,'” TIME.com (2021) – A more thoughtful and less reactionary take on a volatile moment in the history of modern technology

“'It Makes Me Sick With Grief': Trump's Presidency Divided Families. What Happens to Them Now?” TIME.com (2021) – A study on how politics has done damage to family dynamics in America

“Help, the Only Cinema I Can Handle Is Zac Efron Prancing Angrily in High School Musical 2,” Vulture.com (2021) - In a lot of ways, same

“50 Easy Things To Do When You are Anxious,” ShopTwentySeven.com (2021) – I especially endorse coloring, puzzling, and watching happy movies!

Double Feature—Miss Marple Mysteries: Murder at the Gallop (1963) + Murder Ahoy (1964)

Remember when I was all like, “Watch these Agatha Christie movies so you’re not sad Death on the Nile is delayed”? Remember when I said I was just a few movies away from becoming an Agatha Christie junkie? Well, I think I’m there because I can’t stop with the murder mysteries! Margaret Rutherford is a treasure whether she’s solving a murder at a horse ranch or on a boat, and a cast of colorful supporting characters (including Rutherford’s husband) makes these breezy instead of heavy. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 8/10

8½ (1963)

File this with 2001: A Space Odyssey—I don’t know if I really understood this film, but I think I liked it? Federico Fellini’s surrealist, male gaze-y drama blurs the lines between reality and imagination, love and dysfunction, and the past and maybe some future that involves clowns? What resonated with me was the story of a director with creative block, wondering if he’s already peaked and if he’ll create anything worthwhile again. Crowd: 6/10 // Critic: 9/10

Sense and Sensibility: The Screenplay and Diaries by Emma Thompson (1995)

Sense and Sensibility is not just one of my favorite Jane Austen adaptations—it’s one of my all-time favorite films. One of the co-hosts of one of my favorite podcasts has raved many-a-time about Emma Thompson’s journals from the making of film, so it was only a matter of time before I read them myself. Witty, informative, and all-around lovely, Thompson’s journals are an excellent insight into the filmmaking process and how novels are adapted.

Also in January…

I reviewed the new-ish documentary Flannery for ZekeFilm, which is all about the writer Flannery O’Connor and feels a little like going back to high school English class.

In addition to the Lethal Weapon and Thin Man series, I rewatched all of the X-Men series this month. You can see everything I am watching on Letterboxd, including favorites I love returning to (i.e. X-Men: Days of Future Past) and the movies I try that don’t make my monthly recommendations (i.e. The Wolverine).

Photo credits: Paul McCartney, Zac Efron, Sense & Sensibility. All others IMDb.com.

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formashimataichi · 4 years ago

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Chihayafuru | Why read it?

This is a comprehensive, non-spoilers review I made of the series on Goodreads recently, and I thought I would leave it here for potential readers as well. As the series will come to a close within the next year or two, there’s no better time to pick up Chihayafuru than now. The following review covers: a basic summary of the series, a brief explanation of karuta, highlighted aspects of the narrative, and common misconceptions. Enjoy!

Chihayafuru primarily follows three childhood friends—Chihaya, Arata, and Taichi—and their journey through karuta, a Japanese sport inspired by one hundred classical poems found in the famed Hyakunin Isshu. The trio bonds over karuta as children before they're inevitably separated due to a number of circumstances, until their paths cross once again in high school. Their efforts to rise to the top of the sport's hierarchy in Japan parallel to their personal relationships with each other, as well as their insecurities, hopes, and fears for the future as they grow up. REP: visually disabled SC. TW’s: verbal parental abuse.

Karuta (or more specifically, kyogi karuta) is a Japanese card game. The poems of the Hyakunin Isshu are transcribed onto two sets of one hundred cards each—the yomifuda, or reading cards, have a full poem transcribed onto them, while the torifuda, or grabbing cards, have only the second half of a poem transcribed onto them. Each player has a territory with twenty five cards, and the object of the game is to grab the correct torifuda as soon as the corresponding yomifuda is read. There are also a few more complex rules, but ultimately, whoever clears all of the cards in their territory first wins. Karuta is a game that tests memorization, agility, hearing ability, strategy, stamina, etc.

The following are aspects of the series that I think really make it stand out!

The expansive cast. Karuta is an all-ages competitive sport. People from all walks of life compete against each other, so there's a broad range of characters introduced across the course of the series: old doctors, married women, high school teachers, elementary students. It makes the personal experiences and learning points of the various characters all the richer. The appearances of background characters are also consistently recurring, which makes the fact that the cast is so expansive even more enjoyable, because no one is truly forgotten or cast aside.

The emphasis on teachers. An experience Chihayafuru especially explores in depth is that of teachers, both literal and figurative. They are constantly brought into focus: as competitors capable of displaying as much persistence as their juniors, as mentors who do their best to nurture the younger generation, and as people of a past era fighting to hold onto what grasp of the present that they have left. Their insight is invaluable to the younger characters that the series primarily focuses on, and they can hardly be called backseat players.

The exploration into parent-child dynamics. Although the angle from which Chihayafuru explores parents and their influence on their children is a little different, it's also a just as valuable portrayed experience that I adore. There are parents who give their everything for their children, parents who don’t understand their children’s ambitions but support them as best they can, parents who demean those ambitions and create everlasting insecurities, parents who use their children’s ambitions for their own gain, etc. I think in that sense, there’s at least one parent-child dynamic that every reader could potentially relate to and find catharsis in reading about as these relationships grow and change.

The series' refusal to treat karuta as insular. A lot of sports manga have a tendency to focus almost exclusively on the sport in question, with no thought given to the characters' real-life problems, their families, or their future after high school. Chihayafuru, rather than making karuta the object of its story, instead makes it the narrative medium by which the characters' life stories are told. It's a series about people and their problems more than it is a series about the sport, which is what best sets it apart. The characters are constantly faced with the reality that they will have to confront their future and the need for a career at some point, because karuta isn’t a sport that pays nor one necessarily super-famous in Japan.

The use of poetry to parallel the events of the narrative. On the surface, karuta is just another card game; but what makes Chihayafuru special is that the poems being read at different parts of the story actually further contextualize what is happening. Although the course of the story can be understood without looking up what each mentioned poem means, there’s no denying that looking up the meanings adds so much more to the experience. It's one of the best Easter eggs the series has to offer, and it also lends further understanding to why players must cherish the cards for what they mean in order to truly love the sport. (Also, if you are into classical poetry and/or the use of nature-associated metaphors to illustrate life, this will definitely appeal to you!)

The analysis of the human psyche. There are several types of relationships and personal problems Chihayafuru explores. In particular, the friendship between Chihaya, Arata, and Taichi is complex. Their love triangle is deeply entrenched within each of their individual relationships with karuta and their individual insecurities, which is what makes it stand out to me as one of the best of its kind. Each of these characters undergoes expansive development as an individual, and yet the three of them are also inextricable of each other in terms of that development and their goals. There’s extensive exploration into what it means to truly love a sport, whether natural talent or hard work is more valuable, how ambition and success achieved at the cost of loneliness is to our own detriment, and whether the expectations of an older generation will define all that we are capable of becoming.

The exploration of playing as an individual versus as a team member. Karuta is a sport that can be played in teams (up through the end of grade school) or individually. Both aspects of play offer different insight into the nature of sports in general, about the characters' personal goals or desires, and about their complex relationships with the support systems that surround them, or lack thereof. There’s a huge emphasis put on the fact that ultimately, while experiences garnered while playing alone are valuable, karuta cannot exist on the backs of isolated individuals alone. Human camaraderie is necessary in order for the sport to thrive. One of my favorite quotes from the series is regarding this complex theme: Team matches are solo matches. Solo matches are team matches.

The women! Among its equally (or more) famous peers, Chihayafuru is perhaps the series that emphasizes on uplifting of women and women's friendships the most (an advantage lent to it by the all-ages, all-genders nature of the sport). There's a vast cast of female characters, and Chihaya and Shinobu in particular are protagonists whose strength is never undermined by the fact of them being women or the object of someone's affections. The women of the series are strong, air-headed, determined, lazy, ambitious, lost. There’s a vast array of experiences illustrated by them, and they’re allowed to embrace their womanhood while also refusing to be limited by it.

Here are some misconceptions about the series that I have seen encountered by both dedicated and casual readers (or viewers):

It's a series with little emotional payoff. As I mentioned before, Chihayafuru is most prominently a series about people and their problems. The personal journeys the characters undergo span hundreds of chapters. I've noticed before that some people give up on the series as a result, because their favorite character isn't where they want them to be within whatever span of chapters, but I want to encourage potential readers to not give into this inclination! This is a series where you need to be in it for the long haul, because the emphasis is that these emotional problems characters face are not ones that they can solve within the span of a few months. Sometimes, they take years (aside from the first volume covering a flashback sequence, the main narrative takes place over the course of three years).

Perception of the love triangle. A lot of people tend to zero in on the love triangle and make it their focus of reading, and especially for readers who attach themselves to Taichi, this often leads to disappointment in where the narrative leads (as he is a character who struggles immensely on his journey towards growth and self fulfillment). It's important to remember that each member of the childhood trio is their own individual! Issues tied to the love triangle are certainly important, but readers often miss out on crucial emotional development for characters because they're too focused on who they think Chihaya should end up with, when that's not even remotely the point. The narrative almost always emphasizes that at the heart of it all, Chihaya, Arata, and Taichi will always have each other. What matters more than the outcome of the love triangle is whether their friendship will ultimately heal and thrive, and whether they will grow as individuals who can support each other rather than act like crutches for each other.

This is not a series about sports! This may be a confusing thing to say, and it may not even be something that other Chihayafuru fans would agree with me on. But again, I'll reiterate: Chihayafuru is most prominently a series about people and their problems. Some matches can span several chapters, while others barely last a few panels. The focus is not so much on the sport as it is on what the sport or match is doing emotionally for the individual. In that sense, it's a bit different from its contemporaries, where almost every important match is covered in detail, from one move to the next. Although there are plenty of moments where karuta matches are covered in detail, don’t be surprised if there are moments where they proceed too fast, and think to yourself why showing the whole match may not have been necessary!

These are the main points that I could come up with, but if you have any questions, feel free to send me an ask on my blog. I hope any part of this can convince you to read Chihayafuru, as it’s a wonderful story that offers a lot of layers to dissect to its audience. There’s always something new to discover with it, and that’s what makes it special.

#chihayafuru #ayase chihaya #mashima taichi #wataya arata #wakamiya shinobu #meta #i'm just tagging them all so it gets spread gjfkgjfkdhl #but uhhh. i hope this is comprehensive #also if you disagree with anything pls send me an ask!#rather than reblog onto it with an essay or something gjfkjhlgdf #since this is a recommendation post i want to keep it clean #and as accessible to others as possible

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ooops-i-arted · 4 years ago

Note

here’s an idea: the “I missed you so much!” Sentence started but it’s Din and Boga Jr when Din thinks they aren’t being watched

Din angled the Razor Crest further downward, carefully aiming for the makeshift landing pad that had been made just outside the village. He could already see the kids swarming, little green specks on the landscape spilling out of the house to greet him. And of course right behind them was their newest acquisition, the gangly young varactyl’s bright yellow and rusty red feathers easily visible even from this distance.

Din sighed. She - named Boga Jr. by the kids for absolutely no reason he’d been able to decipher - was the reason he’d had to take another job so soon after the last one, now that he had yet another eager mouth to feed. He hadn’t thought one young animal could eat so much when he gave in to the kids’ begging and rescued her from that shut-down zoo, but Boga Jr. was practically a bottomless pit.

And that wasn’t even getting into all the work a new pet took, because of course the kids couldn’t really manage her, being so much smaller than her. Din was the one who had to feed her, water her, train her, make sure she was walked, take her outside to shit, and probably more tasks that would pile up until he found somewhere new to rehome her.

He landed the Razor Crest, watching carefully for stragglers, but by now the kids were very good about staying safely away from the ship and clustering around one of their caretakers instead. Kuiil was holding the rambunctious varactyl by her harness; IG-11 and Winta were herding the kids. Din hurried through the shutdown sequence and all but ran down to the exit ramp.

A deafening cry of “DAD!” greeted him as the ramp lowered; the green mass ahead barely waited for the ramp to lower completely before swarming up. Din knelt to greet them all, scooping them up for hugs by the armful, knowing they would be able to sense his huge smile even if they couldn’t see it. This was always the best part of a job: coming home and being welcomed back.

The kids were full of information, telling him about every scrape and adventure and incident that had happened over the last three days he’d been gone, the cacophony more than even his helmet’s audio filters could handle. His eldest firmly lodged himself in the crook of Din’s elbow while several climbed his shoulders and back and legs, the beskar protecting him from most of the claws. By now even the littlest babies were crawling up to him, carefully shadowed by Winta, cooing and trying to pull themselves up his boots.

“I missed you all so much,” Din finally said when most of them paused to catch a breath.

He got dozens of “we missed you too!”s in return, along with several pleads not to leave again and to play and to come look at various art pieces, block structures, and mud pies. Din frowned in irritation as Boga Jr. kept squawking louder and louder, straining so hard at her harness she was almost pulling Kuiil over and making it harder to hear his sons.

“It is sunset,” intoned IG-11. “This is the children’s designated bedtime.”

Din waited for the kids’ loud collective groan to pass before saying, “Yes, it is.”

“I don’t want to go to bed,” grumped Yod’ika, pressing his face into Din’s chest. “I want to play with you.”

The others echoed their eldest brother. Din hugged all the ones he was holding and tried to give head pats to everyone else in range. “I’ll be here tomorrow. We can play all day then.”

“Aww,” said the kids, turning their big brown eyes on him.

“Tomorrow,” said Din firmly before their adorable expressions could work their magic on him.

Before he could start herding them to the house, there was a loud squawk and Boga Jr. finally broke free from Kuiil, bounding right up to Din.

Din cursed, snatching the babies up before her feet could crush them and jerking away as the feathered face stuck right in his helmet. The long tail thrashed, nearly getting one of the littler ones, who laughed and toddled away, unconcerned by how close to injury he’d come. “Down,” Din snapped, trying to stand up. Boga Jr. jumped at him, aiming for his chest where several of the children were cradled. “Down,” Din ordered.

“Here, girl,” called Kuiil, and the varactyl bounded back over to Kuiil without trampling any of the children and accepted him reattaching the harness. “Apologies, but she is strong,” said Kuiil, stroking some of the head feathers that gleamed ruby in the slanting sunlight. “She will not hurt the little ones, though. You needn’t fear.”

“Boga Jr. is nice, Daddy,” chirped Yod’ika 22 from somewhere around his foot.

“Papa, I don’t want to go to bed,” whined Yod’ika 17, squirming out of Din’s arm and dropping before Din could catch him. He landed easily like the kids usually did, but it still worried Din every time. “Can’t we play just five more minutes?”

He really wanted to be the nice one and say yes. But Omera had always said a consistent bedtime is for the best, and by now Din had seen evidence of that himself. So he simply answered, “We will play tomorrow.”

Yod’ika 17 scowled, then said “No!” and bolted.

Din sighed as the kids broke out in cheers as Yod’ika 17 evaded IG-11 and Winta, giggling madly. Din debated joining the chase. He knew it was done to gain his attention, and if he did give in he’d have to set down all the ones in his arms and draped over his shoulders, and then they’d run…

Before he could make a decision, Boga Jr. squirmed out of Kuiil’s grasp and bolted after the wayward Yod’ika 17, rapidly bearing down on him, jaws opened wide.

Din had seen those jaws snap a thick tree branch in half and now they were after his son and he couldn’t put all the other kids down in time to get his blaster and -

But the thought wasn’t even finished before Boga Jr. delicately picked up Yod’ika 17 by the neck of his shirt, the little one giggling madly as Boga Jr. calmly trotted over and delivered the boy right to Din’s feet. Her tail thrashed back and forth happily and Din could almost swear she was grinning at him.

“Good job, Boga Jr.,” said several of the kids, patting her feathers and laughing as she headbutted them, always gently enough to make sure they didn’t so much as stumble.

“The varactyl has proved useful in herding the children,” said IG-11.

“She likes them,” said Winta, scratching Boga Jr.’s head feathers and laughing as the tail gently knocked against her legs. “And she likes to chase them.”

“Let’s go home, Boga Jr.,” said Yod’ika 17, climbing on the varactyl’s back. Several of his brothers joined him, and Boga Jr. waited patiently until they were on board before rocketing over to the house, the children laughing wildly and Din reminding himself that that feeling in his chest wasn’t actually a heart attack.

---

Winta was sent off to her own home after helping all the children get inside and Kuiil went off to tend his blurrgs, leaving Din and IG-11 to handle putting 101 children to bed. By now Din had the process down to a science, and he was glad to fall back into the easy rhythm of wiping away the day’s grime, putting on nightclothes, changing a diaper or herding them to one of the child potties, and then tucking them into the wall of beds or one of the cribs.

Of course it was complicated by the newest resident. Boga Jr. wanted to help lick the kids clean and physically carry them to and from the bathroom when she wasn’t trying to snatch pajamas out of Din’s hand. And of course all the mischief riled up the kids tenfold, when bedtime was already always more difficult when Din returned, with every child determined to wring every scrap of attention out of him they could.

But finally everyone was safely tucked in with a favorite toy and IG-11 headed back to Kuiil’s residence. Din read a book to all of them - shorter than usual because they were running late, but still long enough to ensure there were yawns and drooping eyes by the time he was done - and then one final good night for everyone. Boga Jr. stayed at his heels the entire time, yapping additions to the book until Din shushed her, and weaving in and out of the babies’ cribs as if determined to check their integrity. Din held his breath, but her clunking into them didn’t wake anyone up, even finicky Ika’ika.

Finally it was his own turn to get ready for bed, the process slowed by the varactyl who still insisted on following him, huffing and squawking softly at him no matter how many times he tried to get her to keep quiet.

“Don’t you have a place to sleep yet?” Din asked grumpily in between brushing his teeth. Boga Jr. only stood up against the sink stand and made faces at herself in the mirror. Din made a mental note to ask Kuiil to finish that pet enclosure he’d asked for as soon as possible.

She padded ahead of him as he went to his own room, sleep dragging at his eyelids, and it wasn’t until he’d gotten half his armor off and on its stand that he finally noticed where the varactyl had set herself.

Boga Jr. was in his bed, the sheets and comforter now a twisted mess and the pillows scattered to the floor. When she saw him looking she squalled happily, her tail whipping back and forth and knocking the last pillow down.

“Get down,” Din said irritably. Hadn’t he told everyone before he left he didn’t want the animal on the furniture? Dammit, he was going to have a talk with Cara; he usually tolerated her ignoring his rules for the kids because she still kept the kids safe and her antics made them happy, but this was too much. “Down,” he repeated, and the varactyl jumped down and coiled around his feet instead, rubbing her feathered head against his shins. Din grumbled, planting his feet so he wouldn’t be knocked over. Even as a juvenile, Boga Jr. was about as long as he was tall, and plenty strong.

Din ignored her, getting the rest of the armor off and exchanging his jumpsuit for the loose shirt and pants he slept in. He set his helmet on his nightstand before stepping back into the house, convinced that there had to be some other suitable place for the pet to sleep. The nightlight was the only illumination, and the kids were making those cute soft baby snores that meant they were asleep, so he tiptoed through the rest of the house trying to find some corner where he could stick the varactyl until morning without her waking up the kids.

As if summoned by the thought, there was a rapid and not-very-quiet patter of feet and Boga Jr. came bounding after him, her squawking muffled but still plenty audible. “Shh!” hissed Din, afraid she would undo all his hard work at bedtime, but she ignored him, skidding to a halt at his feet and squawking again, tail thumping against the floor. Din tried to scoot away from her, but she followed him, finally leaping up and placing her oversized paws on his chest, and he finally saw what was muffling her noises. She had his damn helmet in her beak.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, taking it and praying she hadn’t dented it. She squawked happily, then bounded off to his room, knocking into one of the cribs on her way.

Din cursed, hurrying over in time to see the three infants in it start to squirm and mewl. “Shh, shh,” Din whispered, gently rocking Yod’ika 97, Yod’ika 98, and Yod’ika 99 with his hands. The first two settled immediately, but Yod’ika 99 fussed and whimpered until Din picked him up, bouncing him a little until he finally settled and Din could set him back in the crib.

“Dad?” mumbled a sleepy voice from across the room.

Din hurried over to soothe his eldest back into sleep; anytime Yod’ika realized he had Din all to himself again, he was liable to stretch the time out by any means necessary. “It was just Boga Jr. running around, ad’ika,” he said, patting the little head. “Go back to sleep.”

“But she’s supposed to be sleeping,” said Yod’ika fretfully. “You aren’t making her go outside with no house, are you Dad?”

“No, of course not,” Din said. The kids had been very adamant that Boga Jr. needed shelter and Din was pretty sure he would’ve found himself on the wrong end of a magic hand if he’d tried to argue. “Where has she been sleeping?”

“In your room, Dad,” said Yod’ika with a huge yawn. “She likes your bed.”

Dammit. Someone had let her get on the furniture. Din patted Yod’ika a few times until he rolled over and went back to sleep, then trudged back to his own room to find Boga Jr. waiting for him. The second he walked inside her head shot up and her tail happily thumped on the bedclothes. The pillows had all been dragged back on the bed, the beak-shaped marks in them eliminating any question of who had put them there. Din sighed, but supposed the bedding was due for a wash anyway.

Boga Jr. squawked happily at him, leaping up and circling on top of the bed, twisting the covers with her and rearranging the pillows. But instead of plopping in the middle, she scooted off to the side and stared at him expectantly.

Stars, what the hell did she want now? Din just wanted to go to sleep…

Impatiently, the varactyl leapt up and hurried over to him, catching his pant leg in her oversized and very sharp beak. Din jumped, but she only tugged insistently until he followed her over to the bed, where she jumped up again and chirruped encouragingly, knocking her head against his arm and trying to urge him into the bed.

Suddenly it hit Din. A nest. She’d made him a damn nest.

Din crawled into bed, trying to not completely destroy Boga Jr.’s handiwork while pulling the blankets over himself. Immediately two pillows were dropped on his head, accompanied by a quiet chirr, and then the whole damn varactyl flopped down on top of him, knocking the wind out of his lungs. Boga Jr. didn’t seem to notice, just nudging his arm aside until she could stick her beak in the crook of his elbow, one of the kids’ favorite places to nestle given half a chance. Her tail flapped back and forth a few times, and then she started making a low, rumbling purr, rubbing her face against Din’s side.

Without thinking, Din started scratching at her head feathers, earning a contented chirr. “You missed me, huh?” he asked.

Boga Jr. gave him a distinctly happy chirrup and rubbed her face against him some more.

Well, maybe one night in his bed wouldn’t hurt. Especially since it seemed like she really did like the kids, and she really didn’t have anywhere else to sleep anyway, and she really wasn’t that bad, he thought. “I missed you too,” Din told her.

#this ended up much longer than i intended but it was too much fun #din you big softie #the mandalorian #101 yoditos au #boga jr #fic #asks #thehollyraven

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moonlightreal · 4 years ago

Text

Fate Episode Two

Last time on Fate: Silva was surprisingly interesting, Stella was surprisingly pitiable, and Terra was surprisingly badass. What surprises await in episode two?

In which we have a magic class.

Promising start, Silva and Dowling walking in beautiful Irish landscape, talkin’ worldbuilding! The “Blackwoods massacre.” Silva killed thirteen, or at least helped kill thirteen.

They’re going to check on the Burned One they have doped to the gills and locked up in a shed. Dowling is going to read its mind and hopes to find it’s the only one around. Dowling crouches down by the Burned One and her eyes glow silver. So she’s a Mind Fairy like Musa, I guess. She gets flashes of the Burned One killing the shepherd and chasing Bloom.

But WE know Beatrix came and woke this Burned One up, so we weren’t surprised when it leaps for the grownups!

Opening sequence! Still good music.

Bloom waking up. Aisha’s already been up for hours. Aisha suggests, “get up! Be excited! Today you get to learn to use your magic!”

Waking up montage! Musa and Terra being friendly. Terra asks Musa if she can detect lies or “social niceties” heh. A sensible question, Terra! But Mua’s not a lie detector, just emotions. But it seems like she can feel every single emotion Terra feels in realtime, which… how would you LIVE? How far is her range, if it’s just the closest person the school should’ve giver her her own room, if it’s all the girls how has she not gone completely barmy by now?

And of course Musa isn’t a walking lie detector, this show is going to have a “but who summoned the Burned Ones” plot and lie detection would mean no Plot!

Terra’s changind in the bathroom and Aisha comes in and sits down on the toilet just right in front of her and then strips and hits the shower also right in front of her. O_o Terra flusters and looks away, clearly full of shame about her own body compared to Aisha’s. Poor Terra. Aisha seems oblivious, she just asks if anyone’s seen Stella.

Cut to Stella walk of shame coming in.

Musa: ‘That outfit looks similar to yesterday’s. Same designer?”

Buuuurn! Ok, that’s mean but after Stella’s “they expect me to care about how I look” last episode Musa is kinda delivering karma here.

Bloom hears them talking and comes out of her room to say the Burned One took the portal ring. Stella’s upset. Musa: “Calm down, princess.”

Yep, Stella’s a princess! “My mom is the queen and the ring you lost is one of the crown jewels of Solaria. That might not mean much to a First Worlder so feel free to ask your suitemate how much of a screwup that is!”

Aisha brings the logic: “Almost as big as giving it to her in the first place.’

They say Dowling has the Burned One locked up, if it was loose in the First World even for a little while that’d be a disaster. Stella dribbles the idiot ball saying nobody should tell dowling about the ring, she’ll figure out what to do after class. “and can someone make sure Terra knows that? She can never keep her mouth shut.” and Stella opens the door and there’s happy Terra squirming into a vest that looks like it doesn’t fit but sunny as a daisy.

Cut to Beatrix with her hair down walking up some stairs. She’s going to Dowling’s office again, to “see if she needs an escort” down to the stone circle where the first-year class is being held. But obviously she really came hoping nobody would be there so she could snoop. Also, beatrix has an interesting pendant that might be magic or not. I don’t think they had a big prop budget in this show; the portal ring wasn’t much.

Outside Iiiiiireland! Green! Waterfall! And here’s the stone circle! it’s not very big, the stones are low and the dolmens are actally seats. The first year class is less than twenty people, though we do see a few of fate’s minor fairies in the shot. Dowling has “the vessel’ a big silver dish, maybe two foot wide. Beatrix could’ve been trying to get her hands on that too.

Dowling teaches: “Magic lives in the very fabric of nature. And here in our circle of stone it’s magnified. The vessel tests your ability to channel that magic. Further down the line you may learn to connect with other elements but your first year is all about the element you were born with...”

And here the girls show off their powers as in the trailer.

“Earth. Soil, sand, rock, and all manner of plant life.” terra looks so happy as she coaxes ivy vines up.

“Water. The lakes and oceans of the world, or the molecules that exist in all organisms around us.’ So could Aisha do bloodbending? Or pull water out of a person ‘til they drop from dehydration? How dark is this show gonna go?

“The mind. Thoughts, memories, dreams.” Poor Musa just holds a bubble of ripply air and her eyes glow purple. They could at least have given her some glowy lines around her eyes like Psyloche or Jean Grey in her pre-fiery incarnations. And yeah, “mind” instead of ‘spirit’ for the sixth element it does WORK it just...

“I know! Let’s base magic on the traditional magical elements! That’ll be a fresh new take!” Said every fantasy showrunner ever. Smh. One of the cool things in Winx was that it opened way more possibilities. Telekinetic-flute Musa would’ve been more fun than this Musa whose power so far just makes her and Terra’s roommate life difficult. I hope there’s good plot reason for it all later.

“Air. Speed, temperature, sound, its power. And electrical properties.” Beatrix stretches lightning between her hands and smirks and sideeyes like the villainess she thinks she is. So is Beatrix The Flash? Can she create phantom sounds, maybe mimic voices? Freeze people? Be nice if she could freeze people, give her one of Icy’s tricks. And if she can throw lightning… uh, that’s a lot of powers for one person. Who is a baddie.

“Whatever your element, the emotions underlying it are the same for all fairies.”

Bloom gets up to take her turn. Her eyes flame up but she’s not getting much more than sparks. The other students look at each other and snicker. Dowling says, ‘focus on clear, positive feelings.” and Aisha like a bonehead says, ‘What about your parents? Focus on how much you love them?” Aisha, not ten minutes ago in this episode Bloom told you she was trying not to have feelings about this changeling thing. You’re an idiot.

Bloom says it’s not working. Dowling says feel don’t think, and Musa singsongs something to Aisha that I couldn’t catch after rewinding 3 times. Finally Bloom just says, ‘It’s not happening, can we please move on?” and we cut to class being over and they’re all leaving.

Bloom says to Dowling, ‘I’m either on the verge of killing everyone or I can barely light a match.” Dowling says she just needs a clear mind, “Distraction can cause magic to be erratic.”

And then Dowling says, “So we have exercise classes, meditation classes, and I’ve signed you up to talk with a specialist fairy councilor to help you figure out your relationship with your parents...” oh wait, no she doesn’t. She turns away.

Bloom bursts out, ‘Am I a changeling?” and says how Aisha told her. Dowling’s face confirms it. ‘i didn’t want to burden you with too much too quickly.

Bloom: “So instead you let me learn from teenagers, the most gentle and reliable sources of information.’ Ahahahaha! Love it! So self aware.

Dowling admits that was not ideal, then snaps at Bloom when she says, ‘Ya think?” Bloom deflates. She asks who her real parents are but Dowling doesn’t know. Just, ‘Come to class every day, you focus, you learn, you grow. Eventually the answers will come.” She turns away.

Bloom: “Cryptic and vague just like everything else in this place.” Iknowright? I’m starting to feel less like Dowling is sus and more like Dowling is just a bad teacher. Why was there no, “And I will help you find out.’ Dowling suspects Bloom is a very important changeling and knows her magic can be very destructive, why isn’t she working harder to get Bloom what she needs to become an emotionally put-together nondangerous fairy?

We go from here to the Specialists doing martial arts! Sky and Riven are watching Dane and a girl face off. Apparently last year Riven was kind of a hopeless case until sky befriended him.

Sky goes off to see Stella, who’s coming over, and Riven gets up to creepy-flirt with Dane. Apparently Dane accidentally putting a like on one of Riven’s sexy pics is something that could ruin him before the whole school? I guess it could out him. There is something sexual in Riven’s menacing, he’s sitting right next to Dane with their faces close together.

And then Riven un-creeps completely and starts giving Dane advice about “chose your friends wisely, focus. Being a good specialist is about strategy not how big and strong you are.” then he calls a big specialist named Mikey over for a bout and takes him down handily. He turns to Dane with a big wholesome grin, “You see?”

Uh. I guess Riven is your standard perv; when he’s not being creepy he’s very likeable. Makes you want him to not be the kind of guy he so clearly is.

Over with Sky, Stella’s asking him where they might keep the Burned One. Sky says he’ll break out the maps, and suggests they tell Dowling. But Dowling took an oath to the queen, and if the queen found out Stella lost the ring… Stella looks teary-scared. What of, exactly? She hugs Sky and maybe it’s just my pity for this poor washed-out Stella but I do get the vibe that she’s not being a queen bee, she’s scared and Sky is helping her and it’s not about romance. Then silva comes over and she covers it up with, “so just let me know about the Celtic runes quiz when you find out. Thanks Sky.”

Huh. Using earth runes for Otherworld magic. I feel an extra post about this comin’ on.

Stella leaves. Silva doesn’t even have to give Sky a look, Sky says, ‘you don’t have to lecture me, I’m lecturing myself for it in my head.’ Heh. And Silva says, ‘My guess is you would ignore your own lectures as well.’ Hah! And they have a great little teacher-student chat. Silva promised Sky’s dad to look after him, and the famous Andreas of Eraklyon would’ve said the same thing but with more profanity. Heh.

Is Sky’s dad dead? I got the vibe he died in the last magic battle with the Burned Ones but I don’t think they’ve actually said it. Anyway, good lil scene there, show!

We go now to Bloom’s room where she has, ooh! A spell book! Of Celtic runes! It’s a fat book, and ok I only know the Norse runes but there’s only 24 of ‘em and you could maybe squeeze out a few pages of meanings and uses for each one plus readings and ok if you added lots and LOTS of spells... And the Celts didn’t use runes, strictly speaking, they used the Ogham alphabet which is basically runes being an alphabet of straight lines but it does have its own name.

Her other book is called Magical Flora and Fauna.

While she unpacks these books from her bag Bloom is on the phone with her mom. Bloom describes her roommate as, ‘Perfect. Overachiever, athlete, morning person...’ and mom says, ‘and you get to spend so much time with her...” just savoring it, but in a joking way. This conversation was very sweet. And Bloom’s mom has a watch set to Switzerland time so she knows it’s time for Bloom to go to bed. that’s really sweet. It’s clear Bloom’s parents do love her, but how regular were meltdowns like the one that set the house on fire? Like Riven, people can be both great people and horrible people.

And they are so unlike Mike and Vanessa that I’m not calling them Mike and Vanessa. Fate clearly didn’t mean for them to be the same characters.

Late afternoon outside. Beatrix approaches Riven and enlists him to break into Dowling’s office because he seems like a “proper delinquent.” and also “because you’re a guy and I’m hot.” Pfft! Uh. Go, Beatrix? Own your power? “Or did I underestimate the depth of your character?” Heh. Beatrix heads off without waiting for Riven’s answer.

In the cafeteria Aisha and Musa get dinner. Aisha is wearing a bright yellow ankle-length skirt what is with the costumes in this show! At least Musa’s got her appropriately colored red jacket. She talks about her power being always on and how that makes crowded places a nightmare, and reads some people’s minds. Then she reads one guy’s mind and meaningful music plays. What is this?

They go sit with Terra and Bloom and Aisha is again on the ball trying to help Bloom figure out her emotions so she can control her magic because she’s worried bloom’s too distracted by the changeling thing. And yeah everybody knows about that now.

Terra: “Oh is that why you were freaking out about the vessel that makes so much sense because that’s about the easiest assignment we’ll have aaaaand I’m making it worse.” Musa had to signal Terra to shut up, but good save. The girls are being nice to each other, I like that. Aisha is epically bad at the skill of helping, but she is trying to help. Gee, if only there were school councilors who had studied the skill of helping!

Stella and Sky come over with a map of Alfea and Terra starts pointing out all the locations and starts a story from her childhood and even Stella’s glare won’t shut her up.

Sky sits down by Bloom and asks if she’s ok after last night. “I think you’re freaking out and pretending you’re not.”

Poor Stella can’t decide who she hates more, chattering Terra or talkin’-to-my-guy Bloom! Hope Stella gets her head on straight about Sky soon. After Musa and Riven in season 8 my eyes have run out of roll. 9_9

They figure out the likliest place for the Burned One to be chained up and Stella says, “We just have to go there and get my ring.” But Musa and Aisha say this isn’t a “we” problem, more of a “you” problem. Stella pulls out her worst side and says to Bloom, “But ‘I’ didn’t lose it.” and Bloom’s down to go. Even knowing she has no control over her magic. But the Burned One is chained up and drugged with some oil that Terra’s father makes. Called Zambak or something. They can maybe get some more. that’s sensible. Nasty Stella says, ‘thank you Terra, thank you Bloom for taking responsibility, and everyone else thanks for… nothing.’ and smirks and gathers up her map.

Yeesh, Stella’s catty!

Also, how do they know Dowling and Sliva haven’t already searched the Burned One? Do Burned Ones have pockets? And Burned Ones carry a disease that kills you if you get scratched by one, so is it even safe to touch them at all? Does Stella have a plan for a magical hazmat suit or something? Have y’all really thought this through?

I think Bloom stealth rolls her eyes at the cattyness, and then she goes outside. To what looks like a hedge maze with a pond where IS this place? Sky follows and says, ‘You don’t have to go along with what Stella says just because she’s got a… strong personality.” But Bloom’s mind is made up which makes her also a strong personality.

Sky awkwardly explains he dated Stella last year and they had a rough breakup, trying to set out his situation for Bloom so she won’t think he’s ‘that guy’ but Bloom sensibly points out they only met yesterday and she already has enough complication in her life.

Meanwhile our conspirators are working out Dowling’s schedule in a library somewhere. Riven knows already! Dowling’s secretary is named Callan.

And Riven is trying soooo hard to prove he’s a bad boy. Hood up, pouring booze from a decanter, saying he smokes weed with his vape. If you gotta try that hard, you have already failed.

Beatrix meanwhile is petting the books. She’s not after test answers, she’s beyond the stuff they teach. She wants secrets. “the history of this place is a lot darker than Dowling an the rest of the faculty want us to know.’

Riven: “So wait you’re like some hot fucked-up history nerd.’ Heh.

And Beatrix comes over and sits on Riven and the camera thankfully doesn’t make us watch them making out!

Musa’s in the cafeteria, she detects that guy again. She follows him-- to a closed door.

Bloom’s gone back to the stone circle! The vessel is still there, which seems stealable, and we see it’s full of crystals. Bloom opens her red notebook and we see her notes “clear mind = emotional control + stronger magic” and “positive magic > lasts longer.” But just as she starts trying to summon fire…

“I hear you’re broken. In more ways than one.” Stella, that was mean and that costume does nothing for you. Are long skirts in style in Italy? Heck, they could be in style in America for all I know, I haven’t seen other people in ten months.

Stella briefly acts nice, telling Bloom her notes are the problem magic has to come by feel. Then she turns and starts a mocking list of things she thinks Bloom might have listed as sources of positive emotion. Then Stella goes for the changeling thing, and pushes Bloom to use her rage to call fire. Bloom summons fire and jumps back. Stella says, ‘What? You think you’re done?” So Stella is going to just abuse Bloom to get her magic working? Great, just great. Ugh. I suppose later on she’ll say, “It had to be done, we didn’t have time for you to figure it out the normal way.’ and that’ll be fine and nobody will punish Stella for creating a danger to herself and the whole school.

Also, Stella goes for “worthless changeling” which ok anything will be nasty in that voice but what’s wrong with being a changeling? not like Bloom had any say in what her parents did when she was just born. And Aisha called it barbaric… was changeling-swapping used for some awful purpose back in ancient times that created a stigma? What? I sense worldbuilding, and Fate you’d better deliver!

Or there is no stigma to being a changeling and Stella’s just poking Bloom where it hurts. Or if Stella knows about the mysterious Rosalinda she may have put the dates together and realized Bloom could be the daughter of the great heroine and destined for main-characterhood. And Stella may be getting jealous.

Also 2, Stella’s basically using Sith philosophy. Didn’t you ever see Star Wars, Stella? Heck, maybe she has and she’s doing it on purpose.

Also 3, I may need to do a separate post about magic and emotion. It’s easier to get to angry from happy than to happy from… anywhere. it’s just how brains work. So everybody ever would discover rage works better and… I don’t even know where the worldbuilding would have to go from there.

Ok. That was a lot of thoughts and my mid-episode break on a Friday night. (dinner, watched some Classic Doctor Who, wrote some fanfic, went to bed, got up, wrote more fanfic, walked my pokemons, and here we are again.) We rejoin the episode at definitely-night at Alfea. Dowling has no lighting in her office. Silva comes in saying the other realms have had zero Burned Ones sightings. Silva wants to move the Burned One to the queen’s prison before the students start trying to find it. Silva is a sensible guy. (also his first name is Saul, which I learned already on Tumblr. I’m not the only one who thinks he’s a good character it seems.)

And I guess Dowling goes along with it because here come 3 black SUVs from the queen’s army, lookin’ very Jurassic Park as they roll across the fields. No roads around Alfea I guess. Doomful music plays. I think something very Jurassic Park is about to happen to these poor guys…

Also, it’s day when before it was night. Is it the next day? A few days on? Time & lighting in this show!

The soldiers stop when they see a dark figure, but it’s just someone in a cloak. There’s a growl…

The girls waking up! I guess it’s the morning of day 3 now. Aisha makes her bed as Bloom snoozes away. Aisha sees Bloom’s notebook, conveniently left open to Bloom’s notes about “Is Stella right that I should use hatred and fear?” Aisha is concerned that her roommate is considering the ways of the Sith.

She talks to Musa about it on the way to (I presume) breakfast. Bloom and Stella were ouit late last night. But Musa thinks Aisha is just jealous that Bloom and Stella may be becoming friends. And Musa’s eyes glowed so I guess that’s what Aisha was thinking? Aisha changes the subject to the boy Musa’s chasing. Musa says she senses him behind her but there’s nobody there… then he Kitty Prydes it in through the wall. ‘Mystery solved. Earth fairy.” and Aisha just calls him over and introduces the two of them and says Musa’s been stalking him. As Musa quietly swears hatred to Aisha’s children unto generations, but is kind of laughing too. Musa turns and Sam says, ‘Lucky me.” and Aisha leaves them to get acquainted.

We go to Terra in the greenhouse where she’s doing planty things and teaching Dane chemistry. They have pipettes in the Otherworld, and they’re called pipettes. Dane has a glass chemistry apparatus. Is he doing chemistry or potions? ‘Cause they are two different disciplines!

Terra coaxes a flower from a bud with her magic, and Dane says it’s cool. Cute scene.

Interrupted by Riven texting to ask if Dane is training or busy picking flowers.

More cuteness, Dane teases Terra asking if she’s making drugs, apparently meth exists in the Otherworld too, and Terra tells him about the anti-Burned One oil she’s making. Dane is helping with preparation while Terra does the magic bits.

Riven sends a picture of someone picking petals off a flower and Dane says he has to go. Poor Terra is abandoned.

Riven is in a dark room smoking. He shows Beatrix his phone and she says, ‘Homophobic gay-bashing via gif. Truly you’ve reached your peak clever.” Riven explains he doesn’t care if Dane is gay, he wants to make him less lame. Well-intentioned bullying. That is weirdly thought-out, Riven.

Sky comes in so I guess we’re in Sky and Riven’s dorm. Beatrix offers him her vape pen and he declines. Riven isn’t worried about having a girl in the boys’ dorm because Silva went off to meet the soldiers coming for the Burned One. Beatrix knows Sky is dating Stella and asks if it’s weird having sex with someone who looks just like him and I snicker. Sky is unmoved.

Beatrix heads off to the library and Sky says, “I don’t have time to tell you all the reasons that is a bad idea.” Riven just waves it off.

Over with Bloom and Aisha, Bloom’s trying to write a paper when Aisha interrupts to spill the beans about seeing the notebook and says Stella’s “methods are unreliable” and she’s maybe not the best magic teacher. Bloom just focuses on “you read my notebook?” and asks Aisha to stop trying to help.

Stella arrives in that big olive coat to say the Burned One is about to be moves, their mission needs to happen now. The coat is something the real Stella would never wear in a million years, but I find myself approving of a practical choice in adventure wear.

Sam and Musa are chatting happily. Sam is trying to guess what he sounds like in Musa’s head. Guess she heard emotion as music. Musa says he sounds like “an absence of chaos.” And sam describes his power which he calls “boring through anything natural.” I’ll just call it phasing because obviously.

Terra texts Musa for help in the greenhouse. I do believe we’re leaping into action.

Stela, Bloom and Aisha stride across the grounds. Aisha calls Stella “Army Barbie” so wait they have Barbie dolls in the Otherworld? How does that work, pallets of dolls get spirited away from the Mattel factory? Stella spends a long time saying Aisha was not invited. But Aisha is coming along, they need her.

Stella: “I fixed her.”

Aisha: “Negative emotions are unreliable. They have limits. Your method won’t help her in the long run.”

Bloom points out neither of them are helping at the moment. Stella and Musa arrive and the five of them cross the barrier to go find the Burned One.

They find the barn quick, but the Burned One is already gone. Stella again sounds teary and holds the chains saying “No, my mum’s going to kill me...”

Musa gets a bad vibe and she and Terra follow it. Suddenly Musa is struck down by a blast of empathic pain. Ah crap, here are the soldiers, very dead! Oh good, Silva is just grievously wounded.

But Bloom lagged behind at the barn. Aisha and Stella go look for her while Terra and Musa hopefully save one of the three adults in the cast.

Bloom is wandering through the forest, summoned by magic one assumes because this is a bad time to wander off.

Yikes, poor Silva is infected with Burned One venom and not in his right mind! Luckily Terra takes charge, vines the guy up before he can stab them, and tells Musa, ‘He’s scared, I’m not. Focus on me.” the anti-Burned One oil will help with the infection.

Aisha and Stella follow Bloom through the dark forest. Stella tries to summon light but can’t make it work and Aisha says, ‘I don’t have time for this, go back to school.” and walks off. So the three of them are now separated.

And there’s the Burned One! It runs at Bloom, who sends fire at it. Even being on fire doesn’t slow it down but Aisha sends a wave that tosses it into a tree, impaling it through the chest on a branch! The girls creep in for a closer look and they see Stella’s ring, that the Burned One has buried in its flesh! We don’t see that. The girls waffle about who should pull it out-- did none of you bring a pocket knife? A stick? Don’t touch the highly infectious monster! But Bloom reaches in with her actual hands and grabs the ring and they flee.

Stella did go back to school. She finds Sky and tells him what happened, that the Burned One got loose. Sky immediately goes from, “How?” to “How are you?” making him a class A good dude. Stella begins to cry and says her magic wouldn’t work. Sky says, “Tell me everything.” when below in the cafateria Musa and Terra enter with the injured Silva. Terra takes charge, ordering medical help and for Dane to come help them get Silva to the greenhouse. I guess there’s no infirmary here? Maybe all the medicines are potions. Beatrix runs to get Dowling and Sky and Stella rush down to help.

And we learn Sam is Terra’s brother.

Beatrix rushes into Dowling’s office, tells the news, and Dowling and Callan rush out. Leaving Beatrix right where she wants to be. She lightnings up her hands and Dowling’s secret passage slides right open for her.

Down in the greenhouse Terra’s dad Harvey says, ‘You saved his life, I’m so proud of you.” and Terra glows. Silva is battered but himself again and tells Sky he’ll be fine and sends the students out before telling the adults the real news. The Burned One was freed and waiting for them.

Beatrix can’t get through the secret door. There’s a barrier on it. Dowling’s assistant Callan comes in and catches her, but he’s a baddie too! He says turning loose the Burned One was a good distraction but he can’t get through the trap on the secret door because he’s not a fairy and that’s why “he” sent Beatrix.

The plot thickens! A mysterious boss-villain has emerged! And Beatrix, that is a lot of lipstick.

Evening of day 3, getting ready for bed in the dorm. Terra texted, Silva will be ok but they should prepare for a lecture. But bloom’s more interested in teasing Aisha about her toothbrush.

Stella turns up and says while the others were in the woods she was covering for them at school and Bloom should be grateful. Which is a total lie. Bloom returns the ring, joking about what she had to do to get it and Stella says right over her, ‘let;s never talk about this day again.” and leaves.

Sky arrives. And looks at Bloom, then goes into Stella’s room. The door shuts behind them with great finality.

So… does “being turned on” count as an emotion for the purposes of magic? That would make the worldbuilding very odd indeed. We’d have the Sith and the… hmm… Bacchanates? Supposedly followers of Bacchus who ran around drinking, having orgies, and tearing apart small animals with their bare hands in the lust of the hunt. They probably didn’t exist in our world, but in the Fate world they’d make sense.

Also would people with mental illnesses have stronger magic? Bipolar mania is a heckofathing from what my psych textbooks say.

Anyway Bloom and Aisha talk before going to bed, Aisha apologizes for helping too much, says it’s all new to her too. Bloom says she wandered off from the barn because she felt something. “a connection to that thing.” She talks about how she’s kind of given up on understanding but, “opening up emotionally the magic’s all around me. And that’s new and kinda scary.”

A meaningful silence falls, and when Aisha looks over Bloom’s eyes have gone blank white!

Boring ending music this time. i guess the themes from this episode are 1) lots of characters do really awful things and also likeable things. either this show has nuanced characters or it doesn’t know what the heck it’s doing with its characters. I’m not sure. and 2) Has this magic=emotion thing really been thought through?

#fate the winx saga

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