#if you want a game that fits your perfect narrative then make one yourself

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

It's almost fascinating to me to finally see so many people doubting the localization that I've been doubting for years (at this point, a decade). I used to see people get so defensive of localization and "how much work goes into it". Frankly I don't care how much "work" goes into it if they're gonna change the script anyway, and the localizers clearly didn't care how much work the writers put into making the original script in the first place.

Now here we are, with people saying the same things I've been saying for years about localization (with regard to this franchise specifically. Not all localization gets to this extent).

From what I understood of FE14's changes at least, most were made because of cultural differences (like Marks/Marx being changed to Xander iirc). I haven't looked all that deeply into it, but at least from what I did see, most were reasonable changes (including the Soleil support disaster).

FE13 was my first side eye though of the localization, and the beginning of my distrust at the localizations' ability to keep FE4/5 any bit in tact with their canon selves (mainly in Heroes once that game came out, but also in any future ports or remakes... which to this day I still don't trust them with. I'm perfectly content with FE4 being available on NSO in JP only).

Specifically, the Henry stuff struck me as odd, as if they were trying to ignore the fact that this game has war to begin with, so it's not a happy go lucky franchise. It was as if they thought it was "too much" for western audiences... and then we got shit like FE16, and yeah. Apparently it was.

As for FE10 though, I can forgive those changes because they're not extreme and also, they're not propping up characters to be something they're not. They didn't change entire meanings. Ike wasn't invading other lands or being an aggressor, touted as being a savior all the while. No idea why they removed the entire extended script, but that's less changes made and more just... nobody knows why they did that. There were also just some genuine accidents/mistakes in the translation process from what I understood and not intentional changes (this is true of FE9 as well).

It's funny you mention not wanting to play games without dual audio. I've been that way for a long time now. Generally I do prefer playing games in English, and especially if I can generally trust the localization not to mess with things intentionally (like Tales games for example. I have very few I prefer blatantly in JP, like Graces, and that's mostly a voice acting/voice direction problem for me. But Legendia? Hard English (especially because Shiloh Strong exists and his voicing of Moses had me over the moon. He was my first real, genuine "wow, English voice acting is actually getting amazing" back in the wee days of voice over in the west not being taken too seriously). Abyss and Vesperia I'm pretty equal on, but I prefer English since it's my native language and thus easier to get through in said native language).

I can't say anything for FE15 in comparison to either its original script or FE2 because I haven't played FE15 nor watched a playthrough of it and have no interest in doing so.

Seeing other people (you in this case!) mentioning that they don't want a game not offering the JP script because of the localization changes absolutely sends me because I am so glad other people are recognizing this issue and not uwuing over "how much work goes into localization". Y'all mean how much work goes into altering the script to fit the localizers specific preferences, yeah??? Yeah???

I used to get so much flak for this lol; especially in the Jugdral department. I don't care if people prefer playing their games in their native language or if they want to listen to the amazing voice acting, and that was never my issue. It was always that I don't trust the localization and don't trust that they change things in good faith in FE (FE14 was the exception for the most part at least). FE16 came out and well... literally everything I'd be talking about from day 1 was proven correct lol.

Considering that the English translation prettied up Caspar's endings for Flower (changing "often out of control to "sometimes reckless" and removing the text confirmed Caspar's career involves invading other countries), while vilifying his non-CF ending (saying he had victims), yeah. Same with turning Rhea restoring the Church to her rehabilitating it. There's definitely reason to side-eye the changes made by the translation team.

TBH,

(bcs i didn't enjoy FE14)

FE16 and Nopes (and all Fodlan content) seriously made me reconsider my stance on the localisation.

After FE Tellius I knew (I mean after FE10) that changes/omissions existed but never thought they were deliberately made to push one character by destroying others, the general feeling was the same at the end of the game (we are supposed to worship Ike, the localisation played it up to 11, but FE10 does it on its own).

Now, FE16 ?

I was pleasantly surprised with FE15's voice acting so I thought the dark eras of lolcalisation were behind us...

But then Rhage popped up.

And with Rhage, I started to notice all little tweaks here and there made in the localised (some at least) scripts, that added end up with the result that "maybe Supreme Leader isn't that bad" that is pretty different from the JP/og version.

When FE10's loc said "Ike is the most awesome dude ever" instead of the jp FE10 saying "Ike is the most awesome dude", the Fodlan lolcalisation tries to give a different meaning to the solution/story given by the game!

As you pointed out, Caspar doesn't invade countries and is "sometimes" reckless, instead of being "out of control while invading the rest of the known world", his non uwu endings are worsened, Rhea was swapped by Rhage, the church needs to be "rehabilited" instead of "restored"...

I don't want to be overly critical and dissect everything when I'm playing a game, I'm playing first and foremost to enjoy myself but when I listen to Leigh's voiced lines and see this :

or this :

even if you're not thinking about localisation too much, you can see there is an issue in voice direction, which leads to discovering issues in script localisation and then... you start to ask "why", and come up with sad answers.

So, because Fodlan verse really disappointed me lolcalisation wise, even if I made exceptions earlier for FE14 and FE15, I can't be assed to trust the lolcalisation at all, so if a game has audio but no dual audio, it will be a hard pass.

Even if a kind soul, like the ones who made the FE Datamine site, compile and upload the script with the different audios to compare, it's a big no-no.

I know jp audio will not solve everything (especially if i still don't understand the jp script lol) but at least when the localised script tries to sell me the apple that is orange in the original script is akshually purple I'd have some clues about something being wrong.

More power to you if you like purple apples, but if I was supposed to get an orange apple, I would like to get this orange apple (or maybe red or yellow if needed), and not another product.

[virgobingo]

maki is an interesting character, bc she is generally acknowledged to be one of gege's best written characters in jjk, period. regardless of gender.

but the reason she is so great, is because her arc is centered around her experiences as a girl in a patriarchal society. not one that fits into the standard either.

she's born into a family that is considered misogynistic by other clans' standards. as a twin, no less, which is considered a bad omen. with little to no curse energy to boot.

still, for a large portion of her life, she desired to prove herself to them. in a way that reminds me of the myth of meritocracy? that idea of "if you work hard enough, you can do anything you want and you can prove yourself to the naysayers."

but in her journey she learns it's impossible for her to rise in an institution that actively works against her.

this happens, specifically, when she goes to the zenin clan during the culling games (to simply collect tools). she's confronted by reality in ways that echo momo and nobara's conversation (about the weight of misogyny in their lives).

"A scar on the face can be a good thing for guys. But not for girls. You think the world of Jujutsu Sorcerers is based on skills? [It is] Sure. But only for guys. Even if a girl is skilled, if she's not cute, she is looked down upon. Of course, if she's only cute without any skill, it's the same. Women Jujutsu Sorcerers aren't expected to be skilled. They're expected to be perfect." (Momo, Chapter 40)

the first thing she is told when she visits the compound is "yikes, what a face. that ain't gonna heal. what are you gonna do Maki? [...] all you had going was your face and now it's wrecked. no one will even look in your direction anymore." (Chapter 148, p.2-3)

after that, she crosses paths with her mother, who, at face value, echoes the horror tropes of mothers that "fanatically conform to the institution" (i think her actions later make her more complex).

then, finally, maki comes across her father, who remarks on maki and mai's "worthlessness" to him. he's convinced himself he would be better off in life if they were dead.

maki's continuously told she has no value in this world. for things that are out of her control.

of course, this all leads to the loss of mai, who sacrifices herself in order to essentially push maki forward as a character bc "to gain something, you must offer something," in the world of jujutsu kaisen. this is not exclusive to them. it also leads to mai telling maki something that aligns really well with what "female rage" means to me:

"Destroy… Everything" (Chapter 149, p.12)

why?

i think there is no amount of climbing you can do in a society that is actively pulling you down. no way to become clan head in an institution that wants you dead.

i believe it's this realization that causes maki to embrace her "monstruous femininity" that ultimately results in her ascension (as a person, as a sorcerer).

i know some people criticize her decision to kill the zenin in honor of her sister's memory. but, i think the message here is that some institutions simply cannot be reformed.

also, note that with their destruction, maki's narratively released from their expectations.

anyways, what comes after is honestly hilarious. i think it's a mockery of what gege expected misogynistic readers to say. "you're not toji!" (Chapter 151, 6-19) as if drawing a parallel implies that she's his copy.

another charming detail to maki's character is how sumo helps her find freedom/her groove. considering how, in traditional sumo, "women are considered impure and cannot step into the ring". it's just something so fitting for maki who continually defies gender expectations.

long post to say: i honestly love her and i think ppl often ignore how entrenched her story is in the female experience bc they just see how buff she is.

[thebunnednun]

The Fawn and the Wolf - John Wick X Assassin! Reader (Part 2)

Warning: Eventual smut, Violence, Size difference, predictor/prey, and other kinks. Age gap as well as Angst.

Summary:

"Who the hell wants to marry a man they've never met?" Certainly not you. After staging your own death to escape a forced marriage orchestrated by your ruthless family, they retaliate by sending the infamous John Wick after you. Now, you're fucked in more ways than one. Evading Baba Yaga himself is no easy feat, especially when he's sympathetic to your plight but bound by a marker to bring you back.Amidst the chaos, you find yourself unexpectedly drawn to John, his allure undeniable as you embark on a thrilling game of cat and mouse across the globe. As the stakes escalate and the danger intensifies, you're caught between loyalty and freedom, you face a daunting choice that could change your life forever.What are you going to do? Marry the man your family has picked for you? Or do you start over with the surprisingly kind killer you meet?

Notes:

In this narrative, certain deceased characters resurface, their roles pivotal to the plot, although not all events adhere strictly to canon. The timeline aligns closely with the events leading up to the fourth movie. The only original characters are your family members. I will add a playlist for this later.

-----------------------Chapter 2:First meetings---------------------------

The lively bar in Tokyo buzzed with energy, a stark contrast to the looming tension back home. Neon lights flickered across the walls, casting vibrant hues over the patrons. Laughter and chatter filled the air, blending with the clinking of glasses and the soft hum of music.

[Name] leaned back in her seat, nursing a ginger ale. She wore a black wig with blunt bangs that framed her face, the strands falling just above her shoulders. Her eyes, usually a striking color, were hidden behind dark contacts, and her eyelids were painted with black eyeshadow that accentuated the intensity of her gaze. Deep red lipstick added a touch of drama, contrasting sharply with her glowy skin. Her attire was simple but effective—a fitted black dress paired with  heeled ankle boots, perfect for blending into the bar's eclectic crowd.

Michelle sat across from you, elegant and poised despite the chaos around them. She sipped her cocktail with a graceful motion, her platinum blonde hair cascading in gentle waves over her shoulders. The small crucifix at her collarbone glinted in the neon lights. Her calm, serene demeanor contrasted sharply with the raucous energy of the bar. She adjusted the black mask on her face, a precaution you insisted upon. Draped over her shoulders was a bulletproof suit jacket, a subtle but necessary measure of safety.

Michelle sipped her cocktail, her eyes thoughtful as she glanced around the bar. "You know we have to go back eventually," she said, her voice barely audible over the din.

[Name] rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her ginger ale. "You know why I'm not going back," she replied, her tone carrying a hint of amusement. 

"But staying here isn't going to solve anything."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "It’s not about solving things, it’s about taking a breather. We’re not robots, Michelle. We need to live, even if it’s just for a night."

“Shouldn’t I be telling you this?”

[Name] glanced around the bar. Groups of locals were engaged in animated conversations, a couple shared a quiet moment in the corner, and a group of salarymen laughed loudly at the bar, their ties loosened and faces flushed from alcohol. A DJ was setting up in the far corner, preparing to spin tracks for the night ahead.

You were smart enough to call your friends ahead of time and make sure you’d never be alone. Just trying to lay low on your own would’ve been fine. But you weren’t going to chance things with Michelle, again. She came with you and now you were responsible for her until you could sneak her back home. 

As Michelle finished her drink, she leaned back and observed [Name] with a mix of concern and curiosity. "You can’t hide forever, you know. They’ll find you."

[Name] shrugged, her expression unreadable. "Let them try."

Michelle reached out and touched your hand gently. "Just... be careful. You know Nick worries about you." She wrapped her soft fingers around yours in a gesture of comfort. 

“Good, then he should be worried about what I’ll do if he doesn’t call off the marriage.”

“I think he should worry about what you’ll do if he does find you.”

A shadow passed over [Name]'s face at the mention of Nick. You glanced at your best friend, seeing the genuine concern in her eyes. 

"I’ll be fine, Michelle. I always am."

The two women sat in silence for a moment, the vibrant energy of the bar continuing to swirl around them. Michelle adjusted her mask, her eyes scanning the room for any potential threats, while [Name] tried to allow herself a brief moment of peace, knowing that their respite in this lively Tokyo bar was only temporary.

—--

John sat in a dimly lit room, the low hum of the bustling Tokyo nightlife seeping through the thin walls. The room was modest, a stark contrast to the opulence of his previous visit to the Morales estate. A single lamp on the bedside table cast a warm glow, illuminating the map of the city spread out before him. He traced a route with his finger, eyes narrowing as he considered his next move.

His phone buzzed, the name "The King" flashing on the screen. He picked up, leaning back against the headboard, and let out a sigh. "What’s the news?"

"John," the Bowery King's voice was a low rumble, tinged with concern. "Fawn doesn’t seem to be in New York. I can’t catch a word of this girl anywhere. Nick’s old apartment was torched a few days ago. Same situation like that Cordelia lady. Tenants are fine, but it’s clear someone wanted to cover their tracks."

John ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his eyes. "So she’s on the move. Any leads?"

"Seems that way. Any luck on your end?" the King asked, the sound of shuffling papers in the background. 

John glanced around the small room, the city’s neon glow seeping through the window, a sense of weariness settling in. "Japan's been a maze. I’ve been to enough local bars to last a lifetime. No sign of her."

The King chuckled softly. "Well, Japan’s a big place. Maybe you’re just not looking in the right spots."

John rubbed his temples, trying to stave off the exhaustion. "I’ve tried using the tracking devices, King. She’s still off the grid. Whoever’s helping her knows what they’re doing."

“What if no one’s helping her at all?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, the sound of the King's thoughtful hum barely audible. "Then she’s resourceful, I’ll give her that. But everyone slips up eventually. Maybe she’ll reach out to someone, or make a move that puts her back on our radar."

John’s eyes drifted to the window, where the neon lights of Tokyo flickered like distant stars. "I’ve been watching for any signs. But it’s like she’s vanished into thin air."

"Keep at it, John," the Bowery King said, his voice a mix of encouragement and command. "You’re the best at what you do. If anyone can find her, it’s you."

John's grip tightened on the phone. “Thanks. Just keep feeding me any information you get."

"Will do," the King replied. 

"And John?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful. She’s not just any mark."

John's lips twitched into a faint smile. "I know. She’s a ghost.”

“But I’m good at chasing ghosts."

“Get back out there, I’ll be down in a minute.”

As the call ended, John placed his phone on the table and looked at the map once more. His mind raced with possibilities, each lead a thin thread that could either unravel the mystery or lead him deeper into the labyrinth. He stood up, stretching his muscles, and walked to the window, the city’s glow reflecting in his eyes.

He would find you. It was just a matter of time.

---

In the heart of Tokyo, amidst the sea of neon and noise, John blended into the crowd. He moved with purpose, his sharp eyes scanning every face, every corner. The bar scene was familiar now, each visit a repetition of the same routine—asking questions, showing pictures, observing reactions. Tonight, he entered another bar, its exterior marked by a flickering sign in kanji.

Inside, the atmosphere was lively. Patrons crowded around small tables, sharing drinks and stories. The air was thick with the scent of sake and grilled skewers. John made his way to the bar, ordering a drink to blend in. As he sipped his whiskey, his eyes never stopped moving.

He pulled out his phone, checking the tracker’s line David slipped him once more. The small dots representing the tracking devices were still offline, lost in the ether. Frustration gnawed at him, but he kept his expression neutral. He leaned back, casually observing the room through the mirror behind the bar.

A group of young professionals laughed loudly at a nearby table, their animated gestures creating a stark contrast to his stillness. A couple whispered to each other in a corner, their heads close together. The bartender moved with practiced ease, serving drinks and chatting with regulars.

John's mind wandered back to the conversation with the Bowery King. The Fawn was good—too good. Your ability to stay off the grid was impressive, but it only fueled his determination. He would find you, and when he did, he’d have to decide what came next.

The bar door swung open, a gust of cool night air swirling in. John glanced up, his heart skipping a beat as a familiar figure entered. But it was just a fleeting resemblance, another false lead. He sighed, finishing his drink and signaling for another. 

As he waited, he pulled out his phone again, scrolling through the messages and photos the King had sent him. Each one a piece of the puzzle, a clue to her whereabouts. He focused on photo of Michelle, studying the background details, searching for anything that might give her away.

The bartender placed another glass of whiskey in front of him, nodding respectfully. John acknowledged it with a brief nod, his mind still deep in thought. He’d been to bars, clubs, and underground spots all over Tokyo. The city’s nightlife was a labyrinth, and somewhere within it, you were hiding.

John Wick, the Baba Yaga, was on your trail. And he wouldn’t stop until he found you.

–

The two women conversed in hushed tones, their words masked by the surrounding noise. “Tu sais que tu dois rentrer un jour,” Michelle began, her French elegant and measured.

("You know you have to go back one day.")

[Name] rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her drink. “Je sais pourquoi je ne veux pas rentrer,” she replied, her tone crass and tired.

("You know why I don't want to go back.")

Michelle’s eyes softened as she looked at her friend. “Ce que tu as fait à l’appartement de Nick… des gens auraient pu être blessés.”

("What you did to Nick's apartment... people could have been hurt.")

[Name] shrugged, her expression unrepentant. “J’ai fait ça des dizaines de fois. Je m’en fiche plus.”

("I've done this dozens of times. I don't care anymore.")

Michelle shook her head, clearly disapproving. “Je n’ai jamais été d’accord avec les actions de mon mari,” she said quietly.

("I've never agreed with my husband's actions.")

[Name] leaned back in her chair, her gaze hardening. “Vous aimez Nick, mais vous n’auriez jamais dû vous marier.”

("You love Nick, but you should never have married.")

Michelle’s calm demeanor remained unshaken. “Comme Aaron et Amalia?” she countered coolly.

("Like Aaron and Amalia?")

The mention of Amalia’s marriage made [Name] clench her jaw. She didn’t lash out at Michelle, but the anger was evident. “Je souhaite que nous soyons nés dans un monde sans de telles horreurs cachées. Que nous soyons tous nés normaux et heureux.”

("I wish we were born into a world without such hidden horrors. That we were all born normal and happy.")

Michelle reached out, wrapping her arms around [Name], pulling the smaller girl into a comforting embrace. [Name] never cried, especially not in public, but she felt that familiar pressure behind her eyes. She took a deep breath, pushing the emotion down, and exhaled slowly through her nose.

As the feeling subsided, she coughed lightly and signaled to the bartender. “お会計をお願いします,” she requested, handing Michelle some money for the tab.

("The check, please.")

“Viens avec moi aux toilettes,” she added, standing up.

("Come with me to the bathroom.")

Before leaving, [Name] caught the eyes of a few young people in the bar—old acquaintances. You signaled that you were heading home, and they acknowledged you with nods and thumbs up. Together, You and Michelle made your way to the restroom, the bar patrons oblivious to the gravity of their conversation.

In the restroom, you splashed water on your face, the cold liquid grounding her thoughts. Michelle stood beside you, silently offering support. The restroom was quiet, a stark contrast to the lively bar outside. The fluorescent lights buzzed softly, casting a harsh light on their reflections.

“Tu sais que je m’inquiète pour toi,” Michelle said softly, her voice filled with concern.

("You know I'm worried about you.")

[Name] looked at her reflection, seeing the weariness in her own eyes. “Je sais, Michelle. Mais je dois faire ça.”

("I know, Michelle. But I have to do this.")

Michelle sighed, wrapping an arm around [Name]'s shoulders. “Je comprends. Mais fais attention, d’accord?”

("I understand. But be careful, okay?")

[Name] nodded, taking a deep breath. “Toujours.”

("Always.")

They left the restroom together, [Name] signaling to the young men again as they exited the bar. The night was still alive with activity, the neon lights casting colorful reflections on the wet flooring. [Name] pulled her coat tighter around her, the chill of the bar air a sharp reminder of the world she was trying to escape.

As they walked, [Name] couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, the sense of an impending confrontation looming over her. She had evaded many hunters before, but Nick was different. He was relentless, and she knew that eventually, their paths would cross.

‘Annoying ass Fucker.’

For now, you would continue to evade, continue to survive. 

But the game of cat and mouse was far from over.

[Name] turned to Michelle, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Veux-tu aller faire du shopping?” she asked in French.

("Do you want to go shopping?")

Michelle smiled, about to respond when [Name] abruptly bumped into a figure she hadn't noticed. Startled, she stumbled slightly, and strong hands caught her waist, steadying her. She looked up to see a man with a chiseled jawline, piercing chocolate eyes, and a ruggedly handsome face framed by slightly tousled dark hair. His presence was commanding, his stance solid, and his suit impeccable, tailored to perfection. His broad shoulders and muscular build made him stand out, even in the crowded bar.

[Name] felt her heart skip a beat, but she quickly masked her shock, not wanting to draw attention.

“Je suis désolée,” [Name] stammered in French, still shaken by the sudden contact.

("I’m sorry.")

John’s grip was firm but gentle. He replied smoothly, his French impeccable. “Pas de problème.”

("No problem.")

Their eyes locked momentarily, and a subtle feeling passed between them. She noticed the rugged features of the person before her, his warm hands on her waist, and the sharp lines of his suit. He noticed how her eyes seemed to emit light even in the dimly lit bar and how soft her hands were on his chest. There was an unspoken connection, a magnetic pull that took them both by surprise. Realizing his hands were still on her, she gently pulled away.

John, ever the gentleman, released her immediately. Michelle, quick on her feet, began to apologize in a mix of broken English, French, and Japanese. “We’re so sorry, sir! It was an accident. Désolée. 本当にすみません。”

John responded in both languages, his tone calm and reassuring. “It’s fine. No harm done. Ce n’est rien. 大丈夫です。”

Both women avoided eye contact, feeling the weight of the moment. [Name] bowed to John before grabbing Michelle’s hand, pushing her forward. “We’ve had a bit too much to drink,” she said, her voice carrying a false lightness.

John insisted on walking them to a door. “Let me help you get a cab. It’s safer.”

The bar around them was lively, with patrons laughing and drinking, oblivious to the tension. The bartender glanced over, recognizing the signal from [Name], and subtly nodded. [Name]’s comrades watched from a distance, trying to act normal. Even the DJ lowered the music subtly. Michelle accepted John’s offer to avoid suspicion, while you debated whether to take his life in the alleyway. Instead, you dismissed the thought, knowing it would complicate everything.

The mental strain was evident as you finally accepted John’s help. He hailed a taxi, assisting you both into the cab with a courteous smile. “Have a good night. Be safe,” he said in both languages, waving them off.

"Bonne nuit," they replied, waving as the cab pulled away. 

John returned to the bar, the encounter replaying in his mind. There was something familiar about the younger woman. He took out the photo of [Name] again, studying her eyes. A curse slipped from his lips as realization struck—you had just slipped out of his hands, quite literally.

Inside the taxi, You sighed, leaning back against the seat. “That was too close,” you muttered.

Michelle, still processing the encounter, nodded. “Did you know who that man was?”

You shook your head, trying to dispel the lingering warmth of John’s touch. “Whether I know him or not doesn’t matter. As long as he didn’t see me.”

The taxi sped through the bustling streets of Tokyo, neon lights flashing by. As they drove away, [Name] couldn’t help but glance back through the Taxi mirror, a part of her still caught in the intensity of John’s gaze.

[Name] leaned back in the taxi, the tension of the encounter still palpable. She turned to Michelle. "Hand me your mirror. I need to fix my lipstick."

Michelle, ever prepared, reached into her bag and pulled out a small compact mirror. [Name] flipped it open, but as she checked her reflection, her heart sank. Her colored contacts were gone. Your natural eye color, a distinguishing feature, was now visible.

You leaned back in the taxi, your fingers trembling slightly as you adjusted the mirror.

Michelle, noticing your distress, asked, "Did you lose them in the restroom?"

[Name] cursed under her breath. "He saw my real eyes."

Michelle's calm demeanor faltered, a flicker of concern crossing her face. "Shit."

“Michelle!”

Trying to steady her breathing, [Name] grabbed her phone, dialing her contact at the bar. Meanwhile, in the bar, John sipped his new drink, his sharp eyes scanning the room, every detail scrutinized. The bartender kept a close watch on him, noting his every move. Some of [Name]’s friends discreetly slipped out the back door, readying a safe passageway.

When the call connected, [Name] spoke urgently, "Has he been asking about us?"

At that moment, John approached the bartender. "How long were those two women here?"

The bartender, careful not to reveal too much, replied, "Not long. They were just passing through."

Lowering his voice, the bartender spoke into the phone, "The Wolf is after you."

A chill ran down [Name]’s spine. "Thanks," she whispered, ending the call.

You stopped the French and caught the driver's attention in Japanese. “The club on 43rd street please. And step on it.”

As they sped through the neon-lit streets, [Name] tried to focus on the task at hand, pushing down the emotion and fear that threatened to overwhelm her.

Michelle looked apprehensive. "What's going on?"

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. "The family sent death himself after me. We need to get you back home, now ."

Michelle sighed, pulling the suit jacket tighter around her stomach. "Of course they did."

The taxi driver sped through Tokyo's neon-lit streets, each light casting fleeting shadows across their faces. Within minutes, they arrived at a bustling dance club, its neon sign flickering in the rain. The pulsating music and vibrant lights offered a temporary refuge. As they stepped out of the cab, [Name] pulled Michelle close. 

"Stay with me."

Inside, the club was a riot of color and sound. The dance floor was packed with people, their bodies moving to the heavy beat of the music. Patrons laughed and shouted, oblivious to the danger that just walked in. [Name] quickly scanned the room, her eyes darting from face to face, searching for any sign of threat or familiarity.

"We'll blend in here for a bit," You said, guiding Michelle to the dance floor. "Then we’ll make our move."

Michelle nodded, her trust in you unwavering. "Lead the way."

As they danced through, [Name] tried to focus on the rhythm of the music, but her mind was racing. The encounter with John had rattled her more than she wanted to admit. His presence was a stark reminder of the life she was trying to escape. She had to stay focused, keep Michelle safe, and stay one step ahead of the hunter on her trail.

Back at the bar, John was piecing together the clues. He pulled out the photo of Michelle again, studying the neon sign, now realizing it was the same bar he was sitting in. He flipped it over on the back to find a phone number. When he called it, it found the dance club you had just escaped to. 

On the dance floor, [Name] and Michelle moved through the crowd, their movements purposeful yet unassuming. The beat of the music pounded in [Name]’s chest, a constant reminder of the urgency of their situation. You had to keep moving, stay ahead of John, and find a way to escape the tightening noose of your family's relentless pursuit.

–

[Name] pushed Michelle into the bathroom, her grip firm yet protective. She quickly scanned the stalls, ensuring they were empty before locking the door. The pounding beat of the club's music was muffled but still palpable through the walls.

"Michelle, we need to change now," [Name] said, urgency threading her voice. She opened her purse, pulling out a neatly folded bulletproof suit. The fabric was deceptively lightweight, designed to look like part of a club scene, complete with strategic glow stick attachments that would make it blend seamlessly into the flashing lights and neon ambiance of the dance floor.

Michelle, visibly shaken, looked at [Name] with wide eyes. "You planned this?" she asked, her voice a mix of disbelief and admiration.

"Of course. I won’t let anything happen to you," [Name] replied, handing her the suit. "Now, hurry."

Michelle stepped into one of the stalls, quickly shedding her previous clothes. When she emerged, she was a vision of tactical elegance. The suit, covered in iridescent panels that glowed under UV light, hugged her frame perfectly. She looked like she belonged in the club, yet was protected head to toe.

[Name] handed her a short red wig, which Michelle slipped on, adjusting it to cover her natural hair. As Michelle finished, [Name] began her own transformation, changing into a sleek two-piece outfit . She topped it with Michelle’s previous black suit jacket, which added a layer of sophistication and protection.

Next, [Name] took off her makeup, wiping away the bold black eyeshadow but keeping the deep red lipstick. Her face now almost bare, she looked at Michelle, who had tears brimming in her eyes. 

"We have to get you home, Michelle. I’ve already made the arrangements. Just act natural and stay calm. I won’t let anything happen to you. Do you have your gun?"

Michelle nodded, her eyes red from holding back tears. "I just… I don’t want to leave you," she sniffled. 

[Name] squared Michelle’s shoulders, looking her in the eye with unwavering determination. 

"You have to go. We don’t have a choice."

Michelle took a deep breath, steeling herself. [Name] hugged her tightly, a fierce protectiveness emanating from her. You pulled a small pistol from the cleavage of your outfit and slipped it into one of Michelle’s sneakers.

"That’s for just in case," You said, your voice low and serious.

Michelle nodded, feeling the weight of the gun but also the reassurance of your careful planning. 

They exited the bathroom, blending seamlessly back into the chaotic energy of the club.

The pulsating rhythm of the music reverberated through the crowded club, filling the air with an electrifying energy. [Name] and Michelle moved in sync with the beat, their bodies swaying to the music as they navigated through the sea of dancers.

As they made their way toward the back of the club, [Name]'s beeper buzzed in her pocket, signaling a message from her friends. "They're waiting for us in the back," you shouted over the music to Michelle, gesturing in the direction of the exit.

But before they could reach safety, you felt a familiar aura appear in the crowd. You craned your neck to the entrance and saw him—John Wick. His presence sent your nerves to drop in the pit of your stomach, but you pushed aside your apprehension and focused on getting Michelle to safety.

Just as John spots you and begins to make his way over, the DJ, recognizing the perfect moment, cranks up the volume and declares, "It's time to BOOGY, people!" The crowd erupts into cheers, their enthusiasm fueling the atmosphere with an electric buzz.

"We have to go, now!" [Name] urged, her voice barely audible over the booming bass of the music. She tightened her grip on Michelle's hand and quickened their pace, dodging through the crowd as John began moving closer in on them.

As the pulsating rhythm of " YEAH !" by Usher and Lil Jon floods the club, [Name] and Michelle find themselves swept up in the contagious energy, their bodies barely avoiding the onslaught of dancers shaking to the beat. The sickening neon lights strobe around them, casting dynamic shadows on the dance floor as they weave through the crowd.

Seizing the opportunity, you grabbed Michelle's hand and broke into a sprint, pushing through the mass of dancing bodies as John's figure faded into the chaos behind them. The lyrics of the song echoed in your mind, driving you forward as you raced toward the safety of the back exit, your hearts pounding with adrenaline. Just before you passed another stage, a man with a red electric guitar caught your eye. 

“Go with Bonnie and don’t leave until I get there!” You pass Michelle's hand to your old friend. He had appeared out of the crowd with his easy smile and a cheeky look in his large green eyes. His long turquoise hair was tied into two pigtails with his bangs framing his cheekbones. He waved to both of you before grabbing the older woman's hand and bowing slightly to her.

“I got you, lady. Go take care of business.” He spun Michelle close to him before joining the other musicians on stage. You breathed out a sigh of relief before turning around. 

"Up in the club with my homies, trying to get a lil' V-I

Keep it down on the low-key (low-key)

You should know how it feels (hey!)"

As the pulsating beats of the music filled the air, [Name] materialized before John like a phantom emerging from the shadows. She offered him a curt nod of acknowledgment before speaking, her voice cutting through the cacophony of the club.

In the midst of the chaotic crowd, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Fancy meeting you here," she quipped, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she assessed him with a knowing gaze. "Got business with me?"

John's response was a simple nod, his expression unreadable as he regarded you. His expression guarded yet determined. Your outfit had changed as well as your makeup. You were smaller than he had anticipated, yet there was an undeniable aura of danger that surrounded you, casting a mesmerizing allure that drew his gaze. Your eyes, bright with a fierce determination, practically glowed with an intense energy as you regarded him with an intensity that sent warm tingles down his spine.

He knew he had to tread carefully with you, aware of the danger that lurked beneath your composed facade.

With a heavy sigh, you glanced around at the innocent club-goers, your mind racing with the implications of the encounter. Professionals had standards, after all. With a resigned eye roll, you gestured for John to follow you, leading him towards the center of the dance floor. 

As they weaved through the pulsating mass of bodies, their exchange grew heated. Your eyes flashed with defiance as you warned John of the consequences of meddling in your affairs.

��"Leave, or I'll burn this club down around us," you spat, your tone laced with a deadly promise.

John, caught off guard by your forwardness, couldn't help but feel a pang of admiration for your unwavering resolve. But his curiosity got the better of him, and he couldn't resist testing your waters.

“What about your little friend in the red wig?”

The mention of Michelle ignited a fire within you, your anger simmering just beneath the surface. You offered John a sweet smile and for a moment he forgot himself as he looked into your eyes. Even in the dim lighting of the club he could tell the pictures didn’t do you justice. 

Too bad for him. Without hesitation, you delivered a swift heel to John's crotch, a silent warning that spoke volumes.

“ FUCK ! ”

As John winced, doubling over in pain. Looking up, he realized that in the second it took him to look down, you had already vanished. Leaving him cursing under his breath as he pushed through the throng once more. “ Bratty little- ”

“Over here!~” 

John redirected his attention to a nearby dance stage, where the music beckoned them with its seductive rhythm. With a playful smirk, you mouthed the lyrics of the song, your movements fluid and enticing while unbuttoning your suit jacket. 

"I saw this shorty, she was checking up on me

From the game she was spitting in my ear

You would think that she know me (know me)

She's saying 'come get me' (come get me)”

Mouths moving in sync with the lyrics, you tantalize John with a mesmerizing display of movement. You drop the jacket past your ass before dipping low in a squat position. Your back arching gracefully as you wiggle, accentuating the curve of your backside before picking your body back up again. You give him a coy look before using your finger to gesture for him to come forward. 

“So I got up and followed her to the floor

She said, 'baby, let's go'

When I told her (let's go)

I said..."

Unable to resist the challenge, John approached you with a confident stride, his gaze fixed upon you with an intensity that made your heart race. As he drew nearer, you couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between his dark imposing figure and the vibrant club you found yourselves in.

He was just another name in the network. Who were you kidding, he was even better in person. The booyman’s killer himself was here with you tonight. You should've been shitting bricks in all honesty. 

Maybe it’s because you fancy strange people. Maybe it was the thrill of danger or perhaps the remnants of your past experiences, but you found yourself slightly drawn to this man. Yes, he was here to kill you.

Yet, there was something magnetic about him, something that drew you in despite the unease that prickled at the back of your mind. His eyes, deep and penetrating, seemed to hold a world of secrets, sparking a flicker of danger that sent a thrill down your spine.

You held his gaze, your own eyes glowing with a fierce determination as you sized him up. Despite the tension between you, there was an undeniable attraction—a clash of wills that promised an exhilarating dance of power and intrigue.

You were not going to hand your life over without a fight. And you were certain this man in front of you was going to give you one hell of a challenge.

‘ Wonderful.~ ’

Finally, John stood before you, his eyes betraying a cold distrust. You offered him an apologetic smile before leaning close to his chest, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne and aftershave. It was a heady mixture that only added to the tension crackling between you.

God, he even smelled wonderful. 

With a subtle gesture, you indicated for him to come closer. John paused, his curiosity piqued, before leaning down to your level so you didn’t have to strain your voice over the crowd and booming music, his ear mere inches from your lips. The wisps of his hair tickled your cheeks and nose as you leaned in, your voice a seductive whisper against his ear.

He looked even better up close. 

“ Cat and Mouse ? ” you murmured, your breath warm against his skin, the words dripping with both challenge and invitation.                          

John's thoughts swirled with conflicting emotions as he stood face to face with you in the midst of the pulsating club. Your doe eyes, wide and pleading, bore into his, casting a spell that momentarily clouded his resolve.

For a fleeting moment, he found himself ensnared by the vulnerability reflected in your gaze. The softness in your eyes seemed to whisper of a hidden depth, a complexity that belied the fierce exterior you presented to the world.

Sensing his hesitation, you held his gaze, silently beseeching him to grant you this small reprieve. It was a subtle yet powerful plea, one that tugged at something deep within him, stirring a sense of empathy he hadn't anticipated.

As the song's beat thumped around you, you pressed closer to John, your small frame fitting against his chest. The man was large, easily clearing almost 3 feet over you. And his body was sooo tense.

You tilted your head, resting your cheek against his chest, and looked up at him with a pleading expression. Your lips formed a delicate pout, and your doe eyes, wide and shimmering with a mixture of mischief and innocence, gazed up at him imploringly.

John felt a rush of unexpected emotion. Your expression, so sweet and vulnerable, stirred something deep within him, something he hadn't felt since his wife, Helen, passed away. He was momentarily transported back to a time when life was simpler, when the love he shared with Helen was the center of his world.

The softness of your pout, combined with the warmth of your cheek against his shoulder, created an almost intimate connection. He could tell without your heels that you’d barely reach his chest. He continued to look down at you without moving his neck. Your soft hair was tickling his jaw and he wasn’t sure if it was your perfume or shampoo that smelled so heavenly. 

You looked up at him, your eyes, full of a pleading innocence, seemed to search his soul, seeking understanding and compassion. It was a look that disarmed him, breaking through the hardened exterior he had built over years of loss and survival.

John's hand, almost instinctively, moved to gently rest on your waist. The sensation of your warmth, the delicate way you leaned into him, brought back memories of quiet moments with Helen, of her gentle touch and the way she could calm him with just a look.

His resolve wavered. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to feel, to remember the man he used to be before his world was shattered. Your presence, your expression, brought a flicker of that old self back to life, if only for an instant.

As the music played on, the world around him seemed to blur, leaving just the two of you in that moment. Your cute pouty expression and the innocent way you rested your hand on his chest had reached a place in his heart he thought was long buried, awakening feelings he had almost forgotten existed.

With a resigned sigh, John relented, his resolve crumbling in the face of your silent entreaty. 

" Until the song ends ," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the din of the music.

Before he could reconsider his decision, you used this moment of hesitation to your advantage. With a swift, graceful movement, you tipped backward and vanished into the crowd, leaving him to navigate the chaotic dance floor in search of you. John sighed, knowing this was just the beginning. He glanced around, his eyes scanning the dancing masses, and began his pursuit.

The memory of your doe eyes lingered in his mind, haunting him as he moved through the throng of bodies. It was a gaze he couldn't shake, one that spoke volumes without uttering a single word.

Despite himself, John found himself drawn into the exhilarating game, the tension between you crackling in the air like electricity. With each passing moment, he grew more determined to catch you, even as you skillfully eluded his grasp, slipping through his fingers like smoke.

As the song remixed, John's resolve hardened once more, his focus sharpening as he redoubled his efforts to capture you. But even as he closed in, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that this encounter was far from over.

The game of cat and mouse unfolded, John found himself drawn further into your orbit, the intensity of your gaze imprinting itself upon his memory. In that fleeting moment, he realized that there was more to you than met the eye, a depth and complexity that intrigued him in ways he couldn't explain.

You moved through the throng of people like a ghost, your soft frame slipping easily between bodies. John followed, using his height to his advantage to keep you in his line of sight.

You felt his presence behind you and grinned. Turning abruptly, you pressed yourself against a pillar, letting him walk past you before you tapped his shoulder. John spun around, only to find you already disappearing into the crowd again. He couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of frustration and admiration.

“ So she's all up in my head now

Got me thinking that it might be a good idea to take her with me

'Cause she's ready to leave (ready to leave now) "

John's mind raced. He couldn't let you slip away, but the playful, taunting glances you threw over your shoulder were making it difficult to stay focused. You were enjoying this, turning the chase into a game.

He saw you again, near the bar, and made his way through the dancers. Just as he was about to reach you, you darted away, leaving him standing there, momentarily bewildered. Then he felt a slight tug at his belt. His hand immediately went to his side – one of his knives was gone.

“You’re losing your touch, Mr. Wick,” you called out over your shoulder, your voice carrying a hint of laughter. You waved the blade at him teasingly before pocketing it for later. 

“ (Let's go)

And I gotta keep it real now

'Cause on a one to ten, she's a certified twenty

But that just ain't me, hey-”

John frowned, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “You won’t get away that easily.”

“You're just here to kill me, aren't you?” you asked, a teasing lilt in your voice as you darted through the crowd again.

John's lips tightened. “That’s for me to know.”

You stopped briefly, turning to face him. “So you always follow ladies from the bar to the club on a first meeting or am I just that special?”

John hesitated. “It’s not that simple.”

“Maybe, I think it is,” you said, and before he could respond, you were gone again.

“'Cause I don't know, if I take that chance

Just where's it gonna lead

But what I do know is the way she dance

Makes shorty alright with me (hey, hey, hey)

The way she get low-"

Turning your back to John, you spun away from him, your back arching gracefully as you dropped low, showing off the curve of your backside. John’s eyes followed your every move, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something in his gaze—hesitation, maybe even desire.

 With a tantalizing sway of your hips, you picked it back up and strolled further into the dance floor. The air crackled with tension as John's body lingered, his desire warring with his sense of caution.

‘No.’

He found you again, this time near one of the dance stages. You were smiling, eyes glittering with mischief and danger. “Come on, Mr. Wick. Let's see if you can keep up!”

“ She asks for one more dance, and I'm like "yeah"

How the hell am I supposed to leave? (Let's go, bring the beat back!)

And I say ”  

The song blared, and John couldn’t help but smirk.

You led him on a chase through the club, sometimes allowing him to get close before slipping away again. Each time, you’d taunt him, your fingers brushing against his hips, your laughter ringing in his ears. 

It was infuriating and exhilarating.

Just as the moment intensified, your beeper went off again, cutting through the tension like a knife. You glanced at it and then back at John, a smirk playing on your lips. “It seems I have to go, Mr. Wick. Until next time.”

Before he could respond, you dashed for the exit. John lunged forward, his hand catching you by the hips. The music pulsed around you, the crowd cheering, thinking it was part of the act.

“(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah  

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!)”

You twisted in John's grip, your body moving in perfect sync with the thumping beat of the music. The crowd around you roared, forming a tight circle and transforming the dance floor into a stage for your impromptu battle. John's strong hands held you steady, but you weren't about to let him win so easily.

Spinning around to face him, you locked eyes with John, your expression fierce yet playful. His gaze was intense, filled with determination and, perhaps, a hint of admiration. The dance was not just a dance—it was a duel, a battle of wills played out through the rhythm and movement.

“Up in the club with my homies, trying to get a lil' V-I  

Keep it down on the low-key (low-key)  

You should know how it feels (hey!)-”

John stepped forward, his movements sharp and precise, his body language commanding and powerful. He reached for you, but you spun away, your body fluid and graceful, evading his grasp. The crowd’s cheers grew louder with each expertly executed step.

You countered his advances with a series of quick, intricate footwork, your body weaving through the air like a dancer in a deadly ballet. Each spin, each twist, was designed to keep him off balance, to keep him guessing. John responded with equal fervor, his movements growing more aggressive, more urgent.

He lunged, trying to trap you in his arms, but you ducked and rolled under his reach, springing back up with a teasing smile. The crowd erupted in applause at your daring move. John’s eyes flashed with a mixture of frustration and admiration, the heat of the moment stoking the fire between you.

“I saw this shorty, she was checking up on me  

From the game she was spitting in my ear  

You would think that she know me (know me)-”

In a daring move, you stepped close, your chest brushing against his as you stared up at him. The tension was palpable, a mix of challenge and undeniable attraction. Before he could react, you spun away, your hands grazing his shoulders as you moved, a fleeting touch that left him momentarily stunned.

John recovered quickly, his eyes narrowing with renewed determination. He mirrors your movements, his body a shadow to yours, matching your pace and intensity. The two of you circled each other, the dance floor your battlefield, the music your weapon.

You didn’t give him a chance to recover. With a quick movement, you slipped behind him, your fingers brushing against his holsters. You lifted them deftly, tucking them away before he even realized what you had done.

John turned, his eyes widening slightly as he realized he was unarmed. You gave him a cheeky smile, your eyes practically glowing with danger as you regarded him. He lunged at you again, but you were ready, moving with the beat, teasing and taunting him.

“(Yeah!) Yeah!  

Shorty got down low and said "come and get me"  

(Yeah!) Yeah!  

I got so caught up, I forgot she told me-”

With a sudden burst of energy, you launched into a series of rapid spins, your hair flying around you like a halo. John stepped back, momentarily caught off guard by your display of agility. Seizing the moment, you closed the distance between you, your body pressing close to his as you moved in perfect harmony with the beat.

John’s hands found your waist, gripping you firmly as he pulled you into a complex series of lifts and turns. You responded with equal fervor, your legs wrapping around his waist as you twisted and spun, using his strength to propel your movements. The crowd's cheers reached a fever pitch, the energy in the room electric.

“So I got up and followed her to the floor  

She said, "baby, let's go"  

When I told her (let's go)  

I said-”

John watched, a mixture of frustration and anger crossing his face. You dropped back into the throng of dancers, blending in seamlessly. He pushed through the crowd, trying to keep sight of you, but you were already slipping away.

John cursed under his breath in Russian, feeling around his pockets with growing frustration. His hand came up empty where the marker should have been.

"Damn it," he muttered, realizing Amelia's marker was missing. He cursed again, more vehemently this time, as the weight of the situation settled on him.

On top of being an evasive little brat, you also had sticky fingers. 

“So I got up and followed her to the floor  

She said, "baby, let's go"  

When I told her (let's go)  

I said-”

You maneuvered your way through the club, your eyes scanning for Bonnie and Michelle. They were waiting near a door in the wall, their expressions tense. You could see the worry in Michelle’s eyes, the determination in Bonnie’s. Turning around, you saw your dance partner practically parting the ocean of people behind you. 

“Shit!”  

You ran through the floor, almost toppling the bystanders while Bonnie punched a code into the door, the keypad beeping urgently as he worked. He grabbed you and Michelle, yanking you through the opening before slamming in a new code to shut it shut. Just as the door began to slide, you could see John closing in, his eyes locked onto yours with a burning intensity.

You reached the door a split second before John, your heart pounding in your chest. With one last defiant glance back at him, you blew him a kiss, the gesture both taunting and strangely intimate. The door swung shut, Bonnie and Michelle slipping through behind you. The sound of the door closing echoed through the narrow hallway, a stark finality that cut you off from John and the chaos of the club.

Breathless and tense, the three of you paused. The narrow hallway was dimly lit, the sounds of the club muffled but still palpable through the thick walls. Michelle’s eyes, red-rimmed but fiercely determined, met yours.

“What now?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, yet brimming with urgency.

You glanced at Bonnie, who was already moving, checking the security of the door. "We keep moving," you said, your voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins. "We need to get to the extraction point."

Bonnie nodded, his expression grim. “We don’t have much time. John’s not going to let this go.”

You took a deep breath, your mind racing. The memory of John’s intense gaze lingered, a reminder of the close call. You couldn’t afford to dwell on it now. "Let's move," you said, leading the way down the hallway.

As you hurried through the dimly lit corridors, your senses were heightened, every sound and shadow scrutinized. The air was thick with tension, each step echoing in the silence. You could feel Michelle and Bonnie close behind you, their presence a small comfort amidst the anxiety.

Reaching a junction, you paused to get your bearings. Michelle squeezed your shoulder, her touch grounding you for a moment. "We're almost there," she said, her voice a mix of hope and fear.

You nodded, pushing forward. The extraction point was close, but so was John. You could almost feel his presence, a relentless force closing in. The adrenaline surged anew, sharpening your focus.

Finally, you reached the end of the corridor, a door marked with an emergency exit sign. Bonnie quickly punched another code into the keypad, the door unlocking with a soft click. You pushed it open, leading the way into the cool night air.

As the three of you emerged into the alleyway, you could hear the distant sounds of the club, the thumping bass a reminder of how close you still were to danger. A black car was waiting, engine idling. The driver, Bonnie's older brother, Freddy, gave you a curt nod.

“Hurry!” he urged, glancing nervously at the alley entrance.

You and Michelle slid into the back seat while Bonnie took the front. The car sped off, tires screeching against the pavement. You leaned back, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to calm your racing heart.

Michelle looked at you, her expression a mix of relief and lingering fear. “Do you think we lost him?”

You opened your eyes, meeting her gaze. “For now,” you said, your voice resolute. “But we need to stay alert. John’s not someone who gives up easily.”

As the car sped towards the airport, you couldn’t shake the image of John’s eyes, the intensity of his stare. The encounter had been too close, too intense. But you had made it out, and for now, that was enough.

At the airport, you boarded a private jet, the tension finally beginning to ease as the plane took off. As you settled into your seat, you pulled out the marker, tracing over its intricate design. A small, triumphant smile played on your lips. John had underestimated you tonight, but you knew the game was far from over.

Michelle sat next to you, her gaze fixed out the window. “What’s next?” she asked softly.

You looked at her, the determination in your eyes mirrored in hers. 

John Wick was formidable, but you had something more important. And nothing, not even the infamous John Wick, would stand in your way.

“We take you home and I take out the trash.” 

The plane soared into the night, leaving the chaos behind. But in your mind, the game with John was just beginning.

John's phone buzzed, interrupting his thoughts. He glanced at the screen and saw Nick's name flash. Answering the call, he heard Nick's voice, but something was off.

"John, it's Nick. Listen, I need you to come back to the mansion. There's... something important we need to discuss."

John frowned, his instincts tingling with suspicion. "What is it, Nick?"

Nick's voice faltered slightly. "Just... come back to the mansion. You'll see."

Before John could press further, the line went dead. He stared at the phone, unease settling in his gut. Something wasn't right.

As John was contemplating his next move, another call came in, this time from the Bowery King.

"Hey, John. Made it to Japan in one piece," the King said, his voice low and calm. "How about we get some ramen?"

John recognized the code immediately. "Sounds good. Where?"

"Meet me at the usual spot."

—-

John entered the dimly lit izakaya, the atmosphere thick with the aroma of simmering broth and grilled skewers. He spotted the Bowery King and Shimazu Koji seated in a private booth. The three men exchanged nods as John settled into the booth, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly in the familiar presence of allies.

"John," the Bowery King greeted, his eyes twinkling with curiosity and concern. "What happened tonight?"

John leaned back, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. "I was chasing her—the one they call 'The Fawn.' They weren’t kidding about her. She's elusive, agile. Looked young, but incredibly professional."

The Bowery King leaned forward, curiosity etched on his face. "What was she like?"

John narrowed his eyes slightly. "Why are you so interested?"

"Because you're interested," the King replied smoothly. John nearly choked on his water, coughing to clear his throat.

John's lips twitched into a rueful smile. "She was good. Used the crowd to her advantage. Managed to lift my knife and marker without me noticing. Made me dance with her before she took off."

The Bowery King chuckled, a rich, throaty sound. "You got beat in a dance fight? I would've paid to see that."

Shimazu Koji, who had been quietly listening, nodded thoughtfully. "I've heard of her. She’s been seen around Japan, keeping a low profile. Frequenting dance clubs and high-end shops, never causing a stir but supporting the business quietly."

John's mind raced, replaying the evening's events. "She's not just an assassin. There's more to her."

Koji sipped his sake, his expression contemplative. "No doubt. Those who underestimate her pay the price."

John took a deep breath, his eyes meeting Koji's. "She's been burning down all evidence of her existence. She's dangerous and valuable to her family. And if I don’t get to her first, God only knows what’s going to happen to her."

“No offense John, but I think she can handle herself out there.”

Koji leaned back, his eyes narrowing slightly. "And you're bound by your marker to bring her back. But she lifted the marker off you?"

John nodded, his expression grim. "Yeah, she did."

The revelation sent a ripple of concern through the group. The Bowery King and Koji exchanged worried glances before the King spoke up. "That's serious, John. Without that marker, you're at risk. She could give it to anyone and that’s the last thing we need."

“She took my guns too.” 

“ DAMN !”

“John, did you even try to put up a fight?”

“What didn’t she take?”

“Don’t you start now, too.”

“It’s not my fault you were too busy flirting with the target- OW !”

The Bowery King rubbed his arm while Koji leaned in, his tone serious. "Maybe you should let her stay away. Pursuing her could be more dangerous than it's worth."

John shook his head. "I can't. She's too valuable. And besides, she's been erasing her tracks meticulously. She's up to something."

The Bowery King sighed, running a hand over his face. "Alright, we need to go back to the Morales estate. Figure out our next move from there."

Koji placed a reassuring hand on John's shoulder. "I'll stay in Japan and keep an eye out. If she pops up again, you'll be the first to know."

John nodded, gratitude and determination mixing in his eyes. "Thanks, Koji."

The three men clinked their sake cups together, as they dug into their steaming bowls of ramen, the conversation continued, weaving together their knowledge and insights to uncover the truth and stay one step ahead.

—

Meanwhile, thousands of feet above the ground, you and Michelle were safely aboard a plane heading back home. The hum of the engines provided a soothing backdrop as you traced your finger over the intricate design of John’s marker, lost in thought.

Michelle leaned over, her eyes still red but filled with determination. “We’re safe for now, but what about when we land?”

You looked up from the marker, meeting her gaze. “I’ve got everything arranged. We’ll be met by a secure team. Just stay close to me and follow my lead.”

Michelle nodded, her trust in you unwavering. “Thank you.”

You smiled slightly, trying to offer some reassurance. “Family doesn’t say ‘Thank you,’ Michelle.” 

You reach over and place your hand over hers. “We’ll get through this, Micky. We’ve been through worse.”

She sighed, leaning back in her seat. “I know. I just... I worry.”

You placed a comforting hand on her arm. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

As Michelle closed her eyes, trying to get some rest, you turned your attention back to the marker. Its design was intricate, almost mesmerizing. The weight of its significance wasn’t lost on you. John Wick was a force to be reckoned with, but you had your own strengths, your own skills. 

And now, you had his marker.

You wondered what he would do once he realized it was gone. Would he come after you with even more determination, or would he take a step back to reassess? Either way, you knew you had to stay one step ahead. 

The plane continued its journey through the night sky, a temporary haven from the chaos below. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of thoughts in your mind. This was far from over. 

Your thoughts drifted back to your family, an ever-present weight on your mind. Memories of your childhood, the laughter, the arguments, and the bonds that held you together, floated through your consciousness. You traced the design of John’s marker absently, the intricate patterns both a comfort and a reminder of the peril you were in.

You had always dreamed of being a lawyer, of standing in a courtroom and fighting for justice. The thought brought a wistful smile to your lips. You imagined a life where you could have pursued that dream without the shadow of your family's expectations looming over you. A life where you could have made a difference in the world, using your skills to help those who couldn't help themselves.

Your mind wandered to John. You knew he had a wife once, that he had temporarily retired from the assassin’s life to be with her. Something had happened to bring him back, though. You wondered if he ever thought about having a family again, if he ever wished for a return to a normal life. The marker in your hand felt heavy with meaning, a symbol of the life he couldn’t escape.

You understood him.

You didn't burn Nick’s apartment down to destroy evidence. It was already empty, stripped of everything that made it a home. You had gone there to say goodbye to the place that was once your home. Your fingers traced the spot under the bed where you had carved your name as a young girl, a childish claim to a space that had felt like yours alone. How your little mind had worked back then. But it was over now, and even the light filtering through the window hurt your eyes.

You burned down Nick’s old apartment because it was a loose end, a place tied too closely to your past. It wasn’t just about evading capture; it was about severing ties, about cutting away the parts of your life that could be used against you. But the guilt lingered, an unwelcome companion. Too many memories. Too much grief.

Training with Nick had given you the confidence to take down any man who tried to harm you, but it also meant he kept you locked up tight until they sent you off to Cordelia. A shudder ran through you at the thought of it, a nightmare from Hell you could never forget. You placed John's marker down, your fingers lingering on its cool surface. That woman had been a torment, but you had survived. 

You always survived.

You glanced over at Michelle, her peaceful expression a stark contrast to the turmoil inside you. You thanked God that she was safe, that she could rest even if just for a moment. You whispered a silent prayer for forgiveness for what you did, what you had done, and for what you were about to do.

You hoped that somehow, in the end, it would all be worth it.

Your mind drifted back to the apartment, to the countless hours spent training with Nick. The memory of his stern face, the pride that occasionally softened his features when you mastered a new skill, was etched deeply in your heart. But there was also the pain of confinement, the loneliness that gnawed at you almost your whole life. The light through the window of that apartment had once been a symbol of hope, now it was just a painful reminder of a past you couldn't reclaim.

You felt a complex mix of emotions—anger at the chaos that had engulfed your life, sorrow for the innocence you lost, and a fierce protectiveness for those you loved.

You glanced over at Michelle, her platinum hair peeking out from the wig in the dim cabin light. She was asleep, exhaustion etched into her delicate features. Gently, you tucked your suit jacket over her, offering a small semblance of comfort. Your heart ached with the knowledge that she was pregnant and didn’t want to tell Nick. The thought of bringing a child into this chaotic world was terrifying, but you understood her reasons for keeping it secret.

Joselyn and her husband, Haris, came to mind next. They wanted to have kids but couldn’t, not with the constant chaos and danger that surrounded your family. She tried to fill that motherly roll for you even when it was smothering at times. Haris was a good man, he lived up to his name and was never once unkind to you. To you, he may as well have been your blood brother. 

It wasn’t fair. 

Then there was Amelia’s children, Levin and Malachi, innocent lives caught in the crossfire. Your little God-children, that you picked up from school everyday and who trusted you with every fiber of their little beings. Who make you cookies when you're sad and always give you their art projects for your office. Your annoyance with Aaron, Amelia’s husband, always so self-righteous and insufferable. And David, with his loving quirks and teasing attitude, always trying to take the heat off of you.

You missed them all, despite the anger that simmered beneath the surface. You were terrifyingly angry with all of them, with your elders who had orchestrated this mess, the high-table that protected them,  and with yourself for not being able to break free. You just wanted your parents, the sense of security and unconditional love that only they could provide.

But they could only do that if you died tonight and met them again. 

Tears pricked at your eyes, but you blinked them away. You couldn’t afford to be weak now. There was too much at stake. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. 

The marker in your hand was a cold reminder of the mission ahead, but also of the strength you possessed. Looking at Michelle, you felt a swell of determination. First, you would get her home safely. 

Then you would deal with John Wick. One step at a time.

You would ensure her child was born into a world with at least a sliver of peace. Your own dreams of being a lawyer, of fighting for justice, seemed distant now, almost unattainable. 

But you wouldn’t stop fighting for your right to live life. 

As the plane continued its journey, you leaned back in your seat, closing your eyes for a moment. Just a moment. The storm of emotions inside you was overwhelming, but you channeled it into cold resolve. You would fight for yourself, for your dreams, and for the future you wanted. 

“I will fight. I will protect. I will survive.”

No matter the cost.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This was long as shit, also posted on my ao3. If you see any mistakes just let me know. I don't have an editor yet.

Please check out my other works posted in the master list.

Tag list: @littledebbieinabigworld @treedaddymcpuffpuff

Part 1: Can be found right here.

Thank you both for the sweetness!! <<33

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a fic for almost everyone here in the master list. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

My DM's and requests are open!

Feedback is always welcomed.

I promise I bite~

Seen you soon my loves!!~ <<33

[spiritsong]

Rules: make your ships in this adorable picrew, then give me their song. Tag some friends to share too!

Thank you for tagging me @dolceaspidenera and @justabiteofspite <3 Now to be completely honest I was quietly playing around with this picrew a few days ago so I already have the images ready to share 😂

I wouldn't be me if I didn't make a tag game way longer than it needs to be, especially by adding lyrics no one asked for 😌 Brace yourself because I'm feeling chatty tonight ~

1st and 2nd. Astarion & tav!Aune / Astarion & durge!Aune

believe it or not I did not mirror them on purpose, so it's fun it came out that way! also, let me tell you that it was a monumental task to pick ONE song each but I did it!!!

I'm guessing The Wisp Sings might be a common ship song? but it's too perfect for them idc!! I don't think I've properly talked about this, but Aune has Living Weapon Trauma™ as a result of 1) being born of a ritual intended to produce a Living Weapon, and 2) being a Sword-Dancer who is lost and shapes her grief into a weapon of rage in order to cope with Too Big Feelings™. Much of Astarion and Aune's relationship revolves around reconciling what other people have forced them to be vs. flailing in the wild with all their freedom (being messy, reconnecting with their respective stolen childhood/time/mortality, being self-sacrificing vs self-serving, etc.). ALSO much of their tender moments revolve around Aune's bardic aspects so [how I sing you like a song] is extra fitting.

Not much to say on Landscape (Demo) besides the fact that it blew my mind when I listened to it with Durge on the brain. IT'S PERFECT

Astarion x tav!Aune: The Wisp Sings by Winter Aid And how they hold you like a gun / And how I sing you like a song / I heard when I was young / Buried for a night like this Astarion x durge!Aune: Landscape (Demo) by Florence + The Machine She wants the silence, but fears the solitude / She wants to be alone and together with you /// Because it's burning through the bloodline / It's cutting down the family tree / Growing in the landscape, darling, in between you and me

3rd and 4th. Imyrr x tav!Aune / Gortash x embrace!Aun

aka the tragic ships! I haven't done a proper introduction of Imyrr (they/them); they are a fellow Eilistraeean cleric who Aune ended up falling in love with, despite being severely put off by everything about them at first. Imyrr is the reason why Aune was able to feel a bit more secure/confident in her place amongst the Church. Conversely, when Imyrr suffers a violent & tragic death, they are also the reason Aune feels immediately adrift and unmoored. Imyrr is essentially the ghost that haunts Aune's narrative.

The Woods is a song that I had chosen for Gortash and Aun a long time ago, even back when I wasn't sure about the specifics of their story. Even now, it isn't a perfect fit. The narrator in the song is a young innocent boy; though Gortash is young when he first meets Aun, he certainly isn't innocent (and neither is she). But the reason it sticks with me is because the song speaks about a pair of children/friends/lovers who engage in some dark, esoteric ritual/play together [You and I were in the mud, paint ourselves with spider's blood], and come out the other side changed [Two went in and one came home, We didn't go in there alone]. There's a bit at the end that says [The nights are lovely, dark and deep, But I'll appear when you're asleep, You'll wake up with a sudden hurt, Mouth and nose all full of dirt] which seems very fitting for Durgetash; your Person is someone you wholeheartedly trust and distrust. The promise of death is ever present in this relationship.

Imyrr x tav!Aune: Absence by Rio Romeo If I just vanished / Do you think you'd manage / Or would you disappear right beside me? / Do you think you're ready / When I go unsteady? / Lover, please prepare for my absence Gortash x embrace!Aun: The Woods by San Fermin Your eyes were lovely, dark and dense / Pulling legs off salamanders / A little creature you unspun / The skin and bones and brains and blood

5th and 6th. Gale x Lethe / Alistair x Eleneva

Is it any surprise First Time is on the Gale x Lethe playlist considering Hozier name dropped Lethe in it [And the first time that you kissed me, I drank dry the River Lethe]? The mythological river plays a role in Lethe's backstory so I was very excited about it, obviously. The fact that the start of the first verse [Remember once I told you about, How before I heard it from your mouth, My name would always hit my ears as such an awful sound?] is a great reflection of Gale's struggle with accepting himself as Gale Dekarios vs. trying to embody the archetype of the legendary Chosen of Mystra and powerful Archmage, Gale of Waterdeep.

BAM surprise Dragon Age ship because they are on my mind. I had to include Be because DUDE WTF Hozier was absolutely definitely FOR SURE writing about Alistair Dragon Age and his rose growing in a Blighted land. Anyway right at the finish line I'm failing my one-song-per-ship rule because I also wanted to mention Daylily by Movements. My Alistair x Eleneva playlist is filled with cute poppy songs because I think it's fitting for such a young couple 😭 Plus, Daylily's pre-chorus goes [Outside for the first time in a long time, You said you can't remember what its like, To feel more than cold on the inside, But the sunrise will come again] which is THE quintessential ex-Kinloch Hold mage experience, isn't it.

Gale x Lethe: First Time by Hozier Some part of me must have died / The first time that you called me "baby" / And some part of me came alive / The first time that you called me "baby" Alistair x Eleneva: Be by Hozier Or be like the rose that you hold in your hand / That will grow bold in a barren and desolate land

YOU MADE IT TO THE END YAAAAY !!! thank you for indulging me <3

tagging @dragon--sage @thehightiefling @birb--birb

@witch-from-a-block-of-flats @bhaalsdeepbat @anderstrevelyan

would love to see y'all do this (if you haven't already/if you want, of course)! 🥰

[sapphic-scylla]

Why Dr. Takuto Maruki in P5R is Very Wrong and Why His So-Called “Perfect Reality” is Deeply Upsetting

(This is a hyperfixation rant that spoils a great deal of the ending of P5R and addresses mental trauma and therapy in great detail. So please, make sure you know what you’re getting into when reading this. Also, while I have played P5R many, many times and have experienced a pretty hefty amount of my own trauma and suffering in my own life, I’m not an expert on psychology and matters of the mind, so most of the thoughts on his mental state are purely perspective and opinion.)

Dr. Maruki in P5R infuriates me beyond any character in any game I’ve ever played for so many reasons and for the longest time, I couldn’t pinpoint why. Because a lot of people thought we were stopping a good thing at the end of P5R and I couldn’t explain why I didn’t agree until this week and I’m now going to go into detail on why this man is making a massive mistake.

Starting with the obvious red flags:

Totalitarian society is the idea that a person or very small group of people not only keeps an entire society in line, but controls how people think and bends their will in service to the state, which is what Maruki is doing. It may look like utopia, but when mind control/“actualization” is required, that already sends warning alarms.

A man who felt his only option was to bend the will of another Persona-user against her will and wield her own power against other people (while she is in deep trauma and mental struggle might I add) is a deeply upsetting move and does not uphold what he perceives his moral standards to be.

Reality-bending power is very dangerous and giving one imperfect man the ability to not only rewrite life and its progress is vastly unwise. Especially if that man could also just as easily erase people from the narrative and no one would ever know they were gone. Just the flick of a finger and whoever didn’t fit his plan just didn’t exist. Bad. Very, very bad.

A man using the persona named Azathoth is like a billboard for petty despot. Azathoth is a Lovecraftian deity of Change, Creation and Destruction and the most powerful entity in all of Cthulhu Mythos. Yikes.

People praise Maruki for the same reasons they hate Yaldabaoth. Both should be hated. What people don’t understand is that they are serving the same shit on different platters. Humanity isn’t strong enough or smart enough to handle their own free will, so I will do it for them. Maruki just gift wrapped his to look like paradise instead of servitude.

Maruki is a vessel of DISTORTION. This man thinks he’s capable of running all of reality while suffering under debilitating trauma. And instead of actively getting help, he sets a vendetta against reality itself. Smart? No!

What was it that Brennan said in Burrow’s End? “Power should make you tired.” Taking godlike power for yourself and using it to reshape society to your liking is ALWAYS a red flag.

Everything about him screams cult and brainwashing. Everything. The outfit at the end, the way he speaks, the verbal and physical manipulation he uses to make you think he wants what’s best for you. No one who says they want to “save” you in a very religious way has your best interests at heart.

Putting people in places like a puzzle is a very dystopian theme. That’s what Maruki’s entire plan revolves around: the idea that, if something has the potential to cause you pain, it is to be avoided. That includes family, that includes jobs, that includes desires. Complete avoidance is his plan and he executes it by bending the minds of the masses to believe that what he says your role in society is is gospel.

Utopias crash regularly. Especially ones based off of peaceful living. Every utopia is a lid covering a festering sickness that, no matter how well buried you think it is, will spill out onto the surface eventually. And it’s devastating when it does.

There were still homeless people and impoverished people in Maruki’s “paradise”. Explain that.

That’s all the physical red flags. From a therapeutic perspective…:

Swallowing, avoiding, bottling, neglecting, or walking on the scars you gain from trauma is always a recipe for disaster. Physical and mental scars are very similar. Treating them with the appropriate care, time, and patience for the specific trauma can help them heal over. It’s why therapists and psychologists exist at all. To help you treat those wounds and help them to heal. It’s never said to be easy, but it’s doable if you’re willing to put in the work. Maruki’s not only bottling all of society’s trauma, but this whole mess started because he was doing it to himself. Trauma festers if left unchecked. It can dig into your mind and heart and make you irrational, bitter, vengeful, lonely, and often angry, sad, and numb. However, being willing to reach out and stumble towards people who can help you work through it can ease the burden, so you won’t do anything you’ll regret.

You can’t make the whole world happy. Checks and balances. Someone’s joy is often someone else’s misery. It sucks, but that comes with the territory of being mortal.

Pain is intrinsic to the human condition. It sucks. It really does. No one likes to experience pain or misfortune and I really do understand the idea of wanting the world to be anesthetized to pain and suffering, but that’s the side effect of free will. You can’t expect a world to live free and with the capacity to make their own decisions without conflict.

Mistakes are meant to be made. We don’t learn anything otherwise. Mistakes bring pain, pain brings learning, learning brings growth, growth brings joy. Yes, sometimes pain is sourceless and you’re just in the wrong place at the wrong time and it sucks, but, again, as rough as it is, it’s part of the human condition and taking that away means taking away free will. The difference between the P.T.’s and Maruki is that the P.T.’s were changing the hearts of the people that were using their free will to silence other’s free will. The only exception is Futaba, and she specifically asked them so that she could start taking steps to working through her trauma, the opposite of what Maruki wants people to do.

Taking a W in life isn’t as rewarding if it is constantly happening. All of the rich people I’ve ever met are fucking miserable. When you have everything you’ve ever wanted, you forget what it’s like to feel actual joy because there is nothing to work towards anymore. If I had to choose between getting torn to shreds as I climb towards my goals and suffering defeat after failure to finally reach it and feel that pure happiness or have it given to me free of charge on the house perpetually, I hope my hands bleed as long as I finally get where I’m going and look back on how far I’d traveled to get there.

Scars, cuts, and bruises tell stories. I was always told as a kid that scars make you look tough, but I also learned that it was ok to cry and scream when I got hurt. Taking pride in the immense amount of emotional cuts and wounds and beatings I’ve taken was something that took forever to learn, but if I hadn’t taken any of those beatings, I’d still be the sheltered little Mormon boy that couldn’t speak up to save his life. All of those stabs and scars made me into the fluidflux, curious amalgamation of interests that knows how to stand up for herself and punch back if she has to. Not all scars are scars to be proud of and not all scars are glancing blows. Some hurt. Really bad. Bad enough to leave trauma and impressions. However, it’s telling you that, no matter how unlucky you are, you’re still alive. And that’s what matters. Because any scars you can walk away with, even if it’s not physically, are wounds that will heal given time and patience. And if it leaves such a scar that it will never truly heal, please reach out for support. Friends and confidants are there for a reason.

Maruki never reached out for help. And I know. That’s rich coming from me, who, to this day, claims that the most difficult thing in the world for me is to ask for any kind of help. But traversing the rough road that is trauma healing is easier traveled when you have people to help you.

At the end of the day when you strip Takuto Maruki down to his bare essentials, what you see is a man who is deeply traumatized, wallowing in his own regret and pain to the point where he is self-destructive. This same man is seeking to become a god of the world, pulling the strings to every single persons life and forcing people to live his ideal of what he thinks is the perfect reality and attempting to become untouchable while doing so.

The protagonist suffered so much injustice and unfairness in his life. Wrongfully accused of assaulting a deeply corrupt politician, he became the pawn in a deal between two gods as he struggled to stick his neck out for a society that deeply rejected him and still proceeded to change the hearts of 21 people without reality-bending capabilities just by talking with them and supporting them in their endeavors. It seems small, but in the end, 19 of those people come together and feed his support right back to him. The 20th person was his biggest rival, someone who betrayed, almost killed, and actively worked to destroy him. He ended up fighting by his side even if it meant in the end, he would die. And the last and 21st person was Maruki himself.

You don’t need godlike powers to change the world. You already can just by connecting with people on a personal level. Maruki sacrificed his own self-care, mental stability, and, honestly, the love of his life in a Faustian bargain with an entity that was trying to usurp the vacancy Yaldabaoth left in the universe’s power vacuum. It quite nearly cost him his life if the protagonist hadn’t been there to stop him, fight him, and show him that you don’t need to perform miracles. You just need to be there for people when they need you.

[yourbodymyarchive]

Jon Sims Spotify Playlist Explained

I was gonna make this post regardless of whether anyone even remotely interacted with prev. post but two (count 'em, 2) people said I should, so I am.

I'm explaining some (not all, there's too many songs for that) of my song choices for my Jon Sims music playlist that is focused on his narrative. This is gonna be long.

Let's start with the first song on the playlist, marking the beginning of Season 1 (I sectioned it into seasons, by the way.)

Season 1:

Swan Lake, Op. 20 Act 1: Introduction - No.1, Scene.Allegro giusto (A.K.A The Swan Lake introduction song).

I think that Jon's narrative and the Black Swan narrative are extremely similar. For those who haven't seen the movie Black Swan, the story is about a young woman, Nina, who becomes obsessed with perfecting the duality of portraying the White Swan and the Black Swan. She essentially destroys herself in pursuit of her darker side, a side that was brought out by her dance director. I think if you put Jon Sims in this situation, he would act the same as her. Both individuals are desperate to be seen as competent and perfect and there is something to be said about transformation and the pain of transforming yourself into a being that can no longer revert back to purity. There is only black, but there is also perfection.

Spellbound - Siouxsie and the Banshees

The lyrics, the goddamn lyrics. Just the entirety of the archives, they are all caught in the spell, the web of games, and the dance. They have to dance along or else they'll get hurt. I also think Siouxsie songs have a very TMA-esque sound to them in general, in that these songs could fit in my film adaptation of TMA (the one I'm making in my mind constantly).

Season 2:

Let It Happen - Tame Impala

Like I said, my mind has been conjuring up a TMA film adaptation since I first started listening and this song would definitely play in a scene with all the avatars speaking "let it happen" to Jon. I also love how the song talks about something trying to get out of the narrator's body, something that they can't fight against much longer, because it's closer and closer and it will get out. Jon Sims, as the closest thing to an important person, could be said to be the capsule for the Eye. And all of the other avatars know this, because they're the same, but Jon refuses to let it happen. He can't give up. He doesn't want to give in. Eventually, he does, but his struggle to maintain humanity causes him pain and suffering and a coma. Should've just let it happen, bud.

Boys Don't Cry - The Cure

Literally the most S2 Jon song. The narrator says he's gone too far, he's laughing at the hysterics, he's at a cliff's edge of emotions, and he wants other's forgiveness but it's far too late and he knows it's all gone to shit. Jon, at the height of his paranoia, knew it was wrong to stalk and interrogate and suspect nearly every single one of his friends, but forgiveness was never in the cards anyway, he knew that. He just needed to know he wasn't gonna fucking die. His friends and their emotions came second, and that's what tore them apart.

Season 3:

Your Body, My Temple - Will Wood (For Camp Here & There)

Not really a Jon song, so much as it is about Jon from Elias's POV. The song features a narrator who is viewing the object of their affection with religious fervor. They speak about how they'd die at the object's hands if only to have their name on their final breath. The main line as well, "your body, my temple," highlights how the narrator views the object as a holy spectacle, assigning divinity to them, even when it is not wanted. Elias certainly assigned godhood to Jon and his expression of love and admiration bordered on worship, or, arguably, was worship. After all, Jon was the harbinger of the new world. The man who brought in fear in all its glory and gave Elias his throne. Worthy of worship? I think so.

Cat People (Putting Out Fire) - David Bowie

S3 Jon was a man putting out fire with gasoline, no question about it. He went forward and met various dangerous avatars just for the chance at learning more and more about the new world he was wrapped up in. Some of these lyrics also scream Jon Sims. For example, "See these eyes so green / I can stare for a thousand years / Just be still with me / You wouldn't believe what I've been through." The narrator, additionally, sees himself as a monster of sorts, the kind that people look away from. There is a passion so fiery in his eyes that it makes them look red, and then people close the blinds on him. S3 was the season where Jon was just beginning to understand his abilities, and the people surrounding him hated them. It made him other. It made him something to be feared.

Season 4:

Chin Music For The Unsuspecting Hero - Foster The People

The opening lyrics to this are literally the most S4 Jon Sims lyrics I've ever heard in my entire miserable life. "Today I walked through the door and fell down on my floor / Got all of my papers out and read them." Which is then followed by the chorus, with another round of Jon lyrics: "Where are my friends now? / They're not around when I need them / I cannot pretend / Yeah, I find myself against all the odds again." The narrator follows up the first chorus with lyrics talking about how they have to wake up and go to work, get screamed at, go home to sleep, and scream at their god that they're doing what they can. This is just so S4 Jon moving through the motions like a ghost, wondering where his friends have gone, the people he could trust. They are all gone. He'll never see them again. He's all alone. Basira sees him as a weapon, Melanie is far too angry to be polite to anyone anymore, Daisy is a shell of herself, Tim is dead, Sasha is dead, and Martin might as well be dead. Tragic!

All I Think About Now - Pixies

Like the one above, but a bit less sad. Not really. This song is all about staying stuck in the past and wondering if going back to the beginning would allow the narrator to find another way. Reminiscing on the happier times, lamenting on how happiness is nonexistent now. Trying to thank the people from the past. Once again: tragic!

Season 5:

I start off S5 with a different season break song. The playlist is sectioned off with a different Swan Lake song. S5 starts with:

Starman - David Bowie

I've always imagined this as the outro song for 160. There is a starman (Eye) waiting in the sky and he would really love to meet Jon. This world is theirs now. They don't want it to end, not really. It's too beautiful.

Komm, Susser Tod - Arianne (For Neon Genesis Evangelion: The End of Evangelion)

Now. This is one of the most Jon Sims songs ever. The narrator is crushed to see that their actions have let so many people down, but they know that by killing themselves, or leaving forever, their world might turn out better. Of course, this isn't true. The world is ending either way. Regardless, they wish to go back in time and fix things, trust again, love again. Very MAG200. The world is tumbling down, returning to nothing, and the narrator believes it's all their fault. Their love is worth nothing. They have nothing in the world. Except, maybe, Jon had his own love that mattered most. It helped. A bit.

Gilded Lily - Cults

This is one of the last few songs and it hit me so hard the first time I heard it, honestly. The narrator knows it was, in some way, their fault for not seeing things as clearly as they should've. The chorus repeating "Haven't I given enough?" remains as one of my top Jon lyrics. He gave so much to stop these powers from spreading, from infecting other worlds with their fear and destruction. No one person should have to do that. He was young, really, in the grand scheme of things. There was no instruction manual.

There's also a line here that is very JonMartin: "Always the fool with the slowest heart / But I know you'll take me with you / We'll live in spaces between walls." I really do truly hope the narrative was kind to them and they're living somewhere else, living in spaces between walls.

Well. That's the end of that. I included the ending of Swan Lake as the final song to the playlist, because I am crazy about the parallels. Playlist attached now. Thank you if you've read this far. I ramble. I hope you liked the ramble.

[fortrivmph]

realising i haven't mentioned anything about haytham and apollo's curse. i exaggerate a bit but it stems from a few things: haytham's accuracy with his historical predictions, his effectiveness as a strategist, the use of sages in black flag, and the fact that ubisoft decided it was a good idea to say that all gods are actually their illuminati aliens ( really really bad but we cope ). basically, i love the idea that haytham is just a bit too good at predicting outcomes in political and military situations. in the same way that edward had the ability to look at a puzzle and solve it without having to try too hard, haytham can see a chess game, or a military conflict, or a congressional meeting, and organise the moving pieces in his mind to discern the most probable outcome. the more he learns, the more accurate his predictions become; this is all within human ability, there are brilliant commanders in the world who think like this, but his is just a touch more extreme -- a sixth sense for complex affairs. in the same way a normal human could be trained into using eagle vision, but some assassins are born with it as an innate, almost-effortless ability, haytham can perceive sequences of events to come and act around them.

note that this does not apply to emotional or interpersonal situations. haytham is shit at communication. his analytical mind just cannot grapple with the way that people feel, and so he's constantly putting his foot in his mouth or making situations worse. what would be a great move in a game is often a terrible move when it impacts someone's life, read: connor and washington. he did it! he held the information until he had concrete proof for maximum impact! and people died for it because he was playing to 'win' on his own victory conditions instead of trying to be honest with his son. haytham could look at a stack of letters detailing troop movements and tell you how the next engagement would go down with shocking accuracy, but if you asked him how best to write a love letter he would give you terrible pragmatic advice and your relationship would implode and he'd be like. hmm. that should have resulted in a favourable outcome.

but he knows that a civil war is inevitable with the way the new nation was getting set up. he knew how the members of congress would act in their own self-interest. he has insane historical pattern recognition on a nationwide scale and never on a personal one; he only ever gets that in hindsight. anyways i refer to this as apollo's curse because if the isu were all gods and the assassins have high concentrations of isu dna then i get to say that haytham happens to show traits from the prophetic alien god, because it's fun and zesty and fits thematically in my mind with the fact that haytham has such a good grasp of the narrative happening around him that it often leads to inaction on his part, as he's paralysed by indecision with the number of paths he could take, knowing that none of them are perfect and preemptively mourning the ones he can't take. he is a guy fucking grieved by the fact that he has to make choices, which leads to him not making enough, his plans stalling out, his men dying, etc. he is way too in his own head and part of that, to me, has always been him being overwhelmed because in a world where you could be anything you simultaneously cannot be everything, and the more options you perceive for yourself, knowing that you can only pick one, the worse your anxiety becomes.

also he has a bitch mouth and cunt bearing that makes people not want to listen to him even when he's right. cassandra-esque.

[sho-minamimoto]

ayano, 1, 11, 16, and a number of your choice

AYANOOOOO my girl....... i love u even though barely anyone else does </3

My first impression of them

my Very first impression from keeping up with the NEO news religiously up until its release and seeing her design for the very first time was "damn shes kinda hot"

But within the actual story, the very first scene she appears in is pretty brief and she's obscured by shadow, so i got a kind of mysterious and intimidating vibe from her What’s the first thing you think about when thinking about the character?

Her relationship with Shoka and the lengths she goes through to save her is a big one but one thing that really sticks out to me is something Shoka says in one of her dialogue options on W3D2. I forget which option it is exactly (i just remember it's not one of the "perfect" options for the conversation that nets you a reward) but it results in Shoka sadly realizing she doesn't actually know much about Ayano on a personal level or what her interests are, and lamenting that fact despite how close they are and how much she means to her. It made something click in my head. Like, rindo and fret both had motoi and kanon narratively as role models that they idolized and see through rose tinted glasses, and they don't see their flaws or who they really are as people up until close to the end of their lives. And since motoi and kanon are team leaders I was initially disappointed that fuya didn't play a similar role to nagi (which wouldn't have really fit anyways, but by process of elimination + nagi being the third "main" member of the group that's where my mind was at on my first run) but it hit me There that the missing piece to the kids + role model trio was Ayano + Shoka. The fact that despite their closeness and for how much they clearly loved and cared for each other for 4 years, Ayano still put up a front + closed herself off and never allowed herself to be more of a friend on equal footing to Shoka than just someone who guides and mentors her, and the fact that Shoka herself doesn't even realize this until the end because she was happy simply to have Ayano by her side without thinking deeper about her, idk. It really struck a chord with me that i don't really see anyone else talk about A childhood headcanon

Hmmm because of Ayano only ever presenting herself as the mature Mom Friend it's hard to envision what she'd be like in childhood. But also she was barely an adult; only 19 when she died (despite what anyone says i find this completely believable. makeup and the way you dress + present yourself goes a long way in making yourself appear older). Because of the way she's so doting and protective of Shoka + unwilling to show any of her own doubts/weaknesses on her sleeve in front of her though, I'd think maybe her overall reticence and behaviour could stem from the lack of a role model in her own young age, and a subconscious want to become the type of person to Shoka she wished she had growing up. She very much overcompensated though and ended up being unable to connect with Shoka on a deeper level because of it.

A weird headcanon

I like to think ayano's game and shiba's game weren't that far apart from each other so they became reapers at around the same time and were close friends up until shiba started spiraling. And i think she dresses like that to match shiba they are coordinating tits out looks in my eyes.

[mabeysomeclasspecting]

Hi! I'm preemptively sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language, but yeah classpect time! The only thing I know for sure is that I'm a Prospit dreamer, other things are confusing as hell to me, so thanks a lot for reading all this and trying to make sense of it! <3

What are your interests/hobbies?

I tend to switch hobbies often bc I operate on a "if I'm not perfect at it immediately I should stop trying" conviction but I tried drawing, crocheting, collage making and web design. Even though I myself am shit at most things creative I'm very good at seeing mistakes in other people's work. Regarding interests, I'm into psychology (it's my uni major), philosophy and history. I love long video essays about an obscure topic, I love learning in general but more in a sense of being smarter than others and making knowledge about a topic part of my personality. I like video games but I play like three games on repeat for 20 years I have 5k hours in skyrim since 2011. I'm also into religion/mythology, spirituality and tarot cards but I don't really believe in all that, it's just interesting from a psychological and historical viewpoint.

How do you see yourself?

I'm unsure who "myself" even is, I made a list of my personality traits once (one of them was "lesbian" so that's a personality trait ig) and that didn't help much. I'm a social chameleon, able to be whatever people want me to be, but I do hold strong beliefs and morals and judge others harshly, just sometimes without showing it. My beliefs are mostly black and white in nature, I'm annoyed at people who are trying to stay in the middle and don't have strong opinions bc goddamn I'm ready to die on any hill. I'm intelligent, aggressive and emotional, but cooperative and friendly if I like people, I like to be important but only in a positive sense. I'm also pretty hypocritical bc of the social chameleon thing.

How do you think others see you?

Almost all of my friends were scared to interact with me at first, so it's either a scary bitch who criticized people for breathing or a contemptuous bitch who thinks she's better than everyone. It used to upset me, I don't think I'm scary or arrogant, but at this point I made peace with it and leant into a proud hater persona more. My gf says that I'm really lovely and kind and helpful (but still a little arrogant) and her opinion is the only thing that matters. And a lot of people think I'm smarter than I am.

How do you interact with your friends?

Jokey bullying but sometimes jokes get away from me and I'm unintentionally crossing a line, that was a point of a lot of arguments, I can be real hurtful at times. When people hurt me unintentionally I throw a fit, which illustrates the hypocrisy I brought up earlier. To make up for being terrible I do acts of service, if my friends need literally anything I'll get it for them. I try to help mentally as well but I offer solutions instead of empathy and that's not what people want usually.

What’s important to you?

I have beef with the concept of fate, I hate predisposition and the idea that our narratives are already written, fatalism is my number one enemy, the whole shebang with Mind and consequences of our choices is my number two enemy, I can do whatever I want. I have a lot of feminism based morals and a lot of opinions about politics. My solutions are extreme but I'm sure they'll work. Murder is okay in self-defense type beat. I cherish my friends a lot and feel horrible if I hurt them. I have a lot of trinkets that bring me memories, they are mostly useless but they are important to me and my memory issues.

Describe the ideal you, what kind of person do you strive to be?

I wish to know myself fully and simultaneously know everything else ever. I think people scared of too much knowledge are cowards. And the ideal me would be a lot less aggressive and anxious all the time, I think mental health issues are really holding me back.

Hello!

Aspects: Light, Mind

Classes: Thief, Prince

I think you're either a Thief of Light or a Prince of Mind!

I hope this helps :)

[theballadear]

You'll probably never see this but allow me to add my two cents.

First of all I am anti military and I fucking HATE living in America just as much as you do however I think Fallout 4 just did a really bad job at trying to convey what it wanted.

I feel like the reason the opening of Fallout 4 feels so "patriotic" is because that is the perspective of which our protagonist views the world before learning the truth. In every other Fallout game "War never changes" is echoed in our ears as both a warning and a mantra. It feels wrong for the words to be murmured over praise of war and how the slaughter of millions paved way for innovation. It is likely supposed to feel that way.

The way I interpreted Fallout 4 in particular is going from a point of ignorance to a point of understanding. It feels like a very bad attempt in educating the privileged and trying to get them from a point of ignorance to understanding.

The game begins with lies and deceit with a vault tech salesman awarding the protagonists family a spot in vault 33 due to the military service of Nate who fun fact is the man who laughts at the peaceful protester being shot in Fallout 1 just food for thought.

Surprise, surprise, the military gifted vault that promised safety and security was nothing but a lie to perform human experimentation. The government performing the experiment had no clue if the vault residents even would servive nor did they care for the employees.

I feel like the message they were attempting to convey is to not trust the government however they failed to consider that the people they were targeting with this message (right leaning military loving men) typically have zero media literacy skills.

I could even argue the entire game of Fallout 4 is going from ignorance to knowledge as that was the entire search for Shaun. And not to be like that but there's also a lot of biblical imagery in Fallout 4 (I feel like this was also included to reach the audience that I mentioned above). Shaun being Jesus in a weird way and (in lore the wife, Nora, is the main protag) Nora being Eve. Biting from the tree of knowledge, learning that the government, the vault, everything she thought she knew was a lie.

Nora in Fallout 4 is also canonically smart, she was a lawyer before the horrors happened and I think that makes perfect sense narratively if she is to be Eve in this situation. The white picket fences were Eden and once the truth was revealed, her husband fell with her and she was never able to return to Eden. I feel like the neighborhood being called Sanctuary also makes sense with this narrative.

Fallout 4s story ending gives you 4 (lmao it's fallout 4 and 4 choices) different choices to make. Each ending involves some form of war or military being built against Shaun and his cult or even just joining the cult and going to war with everyone. War never changes. The same result springs for each ending, there is no right choice when bloodshed is involved. Every choice you make is preprogrammed to be the wrong one.

I've been playing Fallout 4 since I was small, I've analyzed the hell out of that game, I see what they were doing but they did not do it right. It's overly convoluted and the puzzle pieces are there, they just don't fit well and are very confusing to fit together. Perhaps I'm reaching, I really don't know. That's just how I view the game. I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day and remember to take care of yourself. :] <3

Man I know I'm bitching about this a lot but I think the complete degradation of the satire and edge of the fallout series over time makes me so mad. The first game literally has an occupying American soldier shooting a Canadian protester dead right there in the opening to let you know the game's stance towards the military and the US as a whole; it's a biting attack on the jingoistic, war-and-profit loving country the US was, rooted in reality. It immediately forces the player to recognize the US (especially in this setting) were not heroic, patriotic do-gooders, but violent, colonizing bastards who blew up the world over chasing a white-picket-fence dream. "War never changes" is about the futile nature of war, the repeating cycles of violence and corruption, the very principles of fighting your fellow man never changing over time. It is always abhorrent, it is always messy, it is always reprehensible, and it is always done for the self interest of the elite in some way. Men do not die for their country, they simply die. Contrasting that with the opening of Fallout 4, which seems to idolize the military and pre-war America, is fucking baffling. You have those white picket fences, those perfect nuclear families, and "war never changes" is stretched like an Animorph cover from a harsh condemnation of the violent cycles the world is put through to a patriotic, watered down idea that war is inevitable and so are heroes. There's no fucking edge to how Fallout 4 remembers the country that ended the world; it gleefully eats up the Americana iconography, sanding down every edge that could make the player even consider that the US in the world of Fallout is meant to be our US taken to a logical extreme, instead revelling in patriotic clothes and ideals and icons while the entire basis of the franchise was built on satirizing and critiquing that exact blind patriotism. It drives me insane that these two completely ideologically different games are under the same roof and that one of them fell for the exact propaganda the first game was satirizing in the first place.

[themovieblogonline]

The entertainment industry is no easy playground, but if anyone knows how to navigate the highs and lows with style, it’s Arkie Kandola. From his comedic chops as Sean, the snarky baggage handler in Hulu’s How to Die Alone, to producing culturally rich narratives like The Book, Arkie is all about betting on himself. https://youtu.be/w46e5q7buzc We sat down with the rising star to chat about his breakout role, his inspirations, and his plans to redefine the game for actors of South Asian descent. Spoiler: There’s a whole lot of grind behind those effortless laughs. From the West Coast to the Big Screen Arkie’s journey to How to Die Alone started long before cameras rolled. “It’s funny how this game works,” he says, reflecting on ten years of grinding on the West Coast. That persistence paid off when he landed the role of Sean. In the series, Arkie serves up comedic moments alongside Natasha Rothwell, the show’s creator, star, and all-around powerhouse. “Working with Natasha was next level,” Arkie says, calling her a “captain” who steered the project with grace. The show, which blends humor with raw emotion, dives deep into life’s messy truths. “One day, you’re laughing. The next, you’re crying,” he says. “That’s real life, right?” Comedy with a Cause While Sean might be all sarcasm and wit on-screen, Arkie brings a thoughtful approach to his roles. “I always try to add a little bit of me to every character,” he explains. That “little bit” makes Sean relatable—not your typical sitcom caricature but a guy you’d meet at the airport, maybe even your next flight. He credits the show’s diverse cast and everyday vibe for its connection with audiences. “It’s not about storybook characters—it’s real people,” he says. And speaking of real, Arkie’s improvisation skills were put to the test on day one when Natasha Rothwell gently nudged him to “stick to the script.” Lesson learned, but his ability to adapt and vibe with the cast—particularly comedian CP—shines through. Breaking Stereotypes, One Role at a Time As a Punjabi actor, Arkie’s path hasn’t always been smooth. “Being a brown boy in this industry, there’s a lot of pressure to fit into stereotypes,” he admits. But Arkie is all about flipping the script. Whether it’s ditching the clichéd cab driver roles or bringing depth to comedic parts, he’s carving out space for authentic representation. “I want people to see me for who I am, not just a type,” he says. That authenticity shines in How to Die Alone and his broader career choices. From the supernatural world of Siren to the sci-fi realms of The Twilight Zone, Arkie’s versatility is clear. Stepping Behind the Camera But acting isn’t Arkie’s only hustle. Over the last six years, he’s expanded into producing. His passion project, The Book, is a perfect example of his commitment to meaningful storytelling. The film explores themes of healing, tradition, and family, bridging the gap between Ayurvedic practices and modern medicine. For Arkie, producing is about growth and legacy. “I want to tell stories that last beyond my lifetime,” he says. Inspired by mentors like Seth Rogen, Arkie sees producing as a way to control his narrative and uplift others. “It’s about creating opportunities—not just for myself, but for the next generation.” Looking Ahead When asked where he sees himself in five to ten years, Arkie doesn’t hesitate. “I just want to keep getting better,” he says. Whether it’s in front of the camera or behind the scenes, his focus remains the same: stay authentic, stay grateful, and keep creating. Arkie Kandola isn’t just another actor with a dream. He’s a storyteller, a disruptor, and a reminder that sometimes the best roles are the ones you create for yourself. Fans of How to Die Alone will undoubtedly be watching what he does next, and so will we.

[lionandcubphotography]

What Are the Key Elements of Effective Personal Branding Photography in Sydney?

Today's high-visual world means an individual or a business will need robust, authentic personal branding photography. A major component is necessary where there is keen competition and city vibrancy, like the metropolis of Sydney. Differences in career opportunities and clients can all be a consequence of the strength of personal branding. Here's everything you should know about working with great personal branding photographers in Sydney, having imagery that mirrors your personality, values, and professional standpoint.

1. Brand Identity Awareness

You cannot face the camera before understanding your brand identity. These questions can help you identify who you are:

What do you stand for?

Who do you wish to address?

How do you want people to see you?

Your personal branding photography must reflect the answers to such questions. Whether you search for cheap wedding photography package offers or professional business portrait photography, the visuals are bound to reflect your uniqueness and define your professional personality.

2. Selecting the Perfect Photographer

Selection of a photographer for this shoot is a very essential process. Seek someone who is specialized in personal branding photography Sydney with a portfolio that can be seen to match the look you want. Ensure that the photographer has the style and lighting options to accommodate the shoot as well as be familiar with outdoor family photography if you want personal elements included in your brand. A good photographer will be working with you to ensure a comfortable setting where you are your best self.

3. Location, Location, Location

The background of your personal branding pictures can make or break how the audience perceives your brand. Sydney has varying types of landscapes, including iconic Sydney Opera House and Harbour Bridge, lush parks, and vibrant urban surroundings. Choose a location that fits your brand image. Are you corporate professional? Go for clean modern spaces. If you are an imaginative artist, then perhaps street art would be the appropriate backdrop. Natural settings are another option that can give that warmth to outdoor family photographs.

4. Styling and Wardrobe Choices

Your wardrobe is one of your biggest personal branding elements. Choose outfits that reflect your style as a professional, ensuring comfort at the same time. Neutral tones work great for corporate settings, but for creativity and vibrancy, pops of color would help. This may help you capture different angles of your brand. Of course, remember that personal branding affordable wedding photography packages is all about being yourself but feeling confident in what you are wearing.

5. Authenticity and Connection

Authenticity is the heart of personal branding photography. Bring your personality to life in photographs with the help of a smile, look at the camera as if you're looking at your friend. A good photographer will make you feel relaxed and comfortable, so that moments come out natural. For professional business portrait photography, you have to appear professional yet friendly enough so that people like you; people relate to real emotions, too, so be yourself.

6. Include Props and Personal Accessories

Props can give images some depth and personality. Perhaps you are an entrepreneur adding a laptop to the shot, or an artist with art tools, or a teacher with books in your hands. Props can give your professional narrative some depth in family-oriented images. You can never go wrong with items that represent the personality of your family -be it sports equipment, musical instruments, or that favorite game. It adds that authenticity to outdoor family photography.

7. Post-Production and Editing

After you shoot, comes the stage of post-production. That is where your images could be edited to make them look even better. The photographer you work with must have a natural look in preference to over-editing. It should be such that the pictures are original yet still polished enough. Fine-quality photographs with true color and details will help the representation of your brand more effectively.

8. Platform Specific Consistency

The photos you take represent but aren't the end of personal branding; rather, they extend to what you do with them on multiple sites. Make sure your pictures are recognizable by look and tone of style from use on LinkedIn, your website, or other social media. All this builds your brand identity and makes you more visible to your target audience. For professional business portrait photography, a uniformed look just feels more professional.

9. Effects of Emotions in Pictures

Good personal branding photography has to create a feeling. It is not just beautiful. What do you want to make your audience feel? Inspire, make them trust, be creative? Your pictures should show action - office, for example, or a happy family with colors that provoke feelings of warmth and closeness.

10. Measure Your Success

After setting up your personal branding through photography, take time to reflect on the impact that your photographs and branding have created. This would include, for example, the number of re-tweets on social media after publishing posts; the reaction of clients or, in general, feedback you received; and other professional opportunities opening up that speak a lot about your brand or branding strategy. Learn and adjust to be perfect.

In a nutshell, great photography for personal branding in Sydney becomes a holistic process wherein brand identity is understood, which photographer to use, picking meaningful locations and outfits that reflect the person's professional and personal goals, then authenticity in every frame. When all goes right and you pay adequate attention to details, this can be the tool making your personal branding photography enforce your unique story and professional business portrait photography or outdoor family photography.

With these essentials, you will have images that not only represent you but resonate very strongly with your audience. So, dive in and invest in personal branding photography- because the first impression counts a lot in branding and right visuals can make all the difference.

[galaxy-fleur]

hey so

in re4 remake, was the romance crafted with the idea of like, following the plot without any long-lasting commitments from the devs? because it felt like that to me especially with how the game ends. i am a bit confused by the whole structure and i guess it is because i was used to seeing other movies and games usually follow through with it but in the case of this game and resident evil, it just doesn't? peculiar

A story structure is simply a narrative tool that ties all of your story elements into a singular coherent narrative. It is what it sounds like. A tool. You can use a certain story structure to tell many different stories with different plots, while still following the said structure. For example, here's a classic three act story structure that is commonly used today:

And here's a 5 act story structure for comparison:

Out of these acts, each one is broken down into additional steps, depending on what story you are telling. For example, the hero's journey has 12 steps in these 3 acts.

While a horror story follows different steps while still following the 3 act structure

And here's one of the 3 act structures for romance

Every single step in all these different structures I showed you can look different in different mediums. For example, a romance visual novel can follow the hero's journey structure instead of a romance structure because it fits the narrative more, all while still maintaining a large focus on the romance itself than action or adventure.

And the romance story structure can be used to tell a narrative that is seemingly not about the romance itself. In fact, it has been used to tell platonic relationships, or relationships that are ambiguous and are left for you to interpret. A romance story structure is great to use if you want to focus on the relationships of your story, whatsoever those relationships may be.

These are what story structures are. It's a way for a writer to follow certain steps to tell a compelling and coherent narrative. Basically, a way to tie everything together in a neat little bow, so that when someone experienced that said story, they go: 'wow! This makes perfect sense!' You can read up on all these structures in more depth if you wanna educate yourself! It's really helpful if you are interested in storytelling.

When in comes to RE4R, it just doesn't really fit into the hero's journey structure for a variety of reasons. In fact, it'll be very hard to write it in a way that would fit it with what we have. So, instead, it focuses on the relationships between its characters and their progression throughout the story. I will say that I haven't broken it down myself in alignment with the romance story structure. Plus, there are multiple romance story structures, so it can be a bit of a tricky task to handle. (For example, there's a 4 act romance story structure instead of a 3 act one, or a 9 step romance story structure instead of a 11 step one, ect)

RE4R following the romance story structure doesn't really mean anything more than that. It follows a romance story structure. That's it. That's all there is. It doesn't mean that RE4R is a romance video game or anything. Obviously it's a survivor horror game, no one is arguing with that. But when it comes to the way it tells its narrative and what narrative tools are being used, it is very much a compelling argument that it follows a romance story structure.

So that's a very long way of saying: Yes. It was written this way to make its story and its characters compelling. It wasn't written this way with any long-lasting romance in mind. It was written this way to make its characters and the relationships between these characters authentic and conclusive. And I'd say it worked!

[an-aussie-button-masher]

So Much to See, So Much to Do - Five of the Best Sandbox Games

   Do you enjoy expressing your creativity? Prefer to do things at your own pace? Do you find exploration and collection a good way to chill out? Enjoy the ultimate freedom of choice in sandbox games! They’re not always about building blocks - sandboxes are defined by having a wide variety of things to do, with the game rarely railroading the player to specific paths, instead letting the player choose what to do at their own pace. They occasionally have stories, with the odd linear mission here and there, but there’s no rush to actually do any of these missions until you feel like it. The bulk of the games have no direct given objectives, letting the player set their own! With huge explorable maps covered in various items and other content to discover for yourself, endless replayability is a cornerstone of the sandbox genre. I’ve collected a handful of examples here, each fitting the staples of sandboxes while adding their own ideas - take a look for yourself below!

Minecraft    THE definitive sandbox game. There’s been plenty of attempts to recreate or outright copy it, but nothing does “open-world creative sandbox” quite like Minecraft. You’re dropped into the blocky wilderness with nothing but your bare hands and left to your own devices - it’s all up to you from that point onwards. You can explore the enormous and diverse world, building your perfect base wherever you like, or carve your way through the mountains and valleys to remake the entire landscape as you see fit. There’s minor nudges towards progression - achievements that hint at stronger tools and new mechanics to experiment with, a recipe book that lets you know what your resources could create, but it’s your choice as to what path you want to follow. Play on Survival Mode and fight for your life while you scavenge and mine for necessary gear, or try Creative Mode for limitless items and invulnerability to build (or destroy) whatever you want in a mind-bogglingly huge map - at 60 million square metres, Minecraft’s explorable zone is roughly the surface of Neptune!

Red Dead Redemption 2    It’s a rough life as an outlaw in the wild west, but it’s a free life - apart from the constant relocation and hiding from the law, of course. Wandering the beautiful west on your trusty horse through the burgeoning towns and windswept wilderness, RDR2 has countless unique encounters and interactions to discover; or, switch on Cinematic Mode and sit back to enjoy the gorgeous scenery as your horse automatically follows whatever path you’ve set. There’s plenty to do as an experienced outlaw like Arthur Morgan: follow the honourable route and help out wherever you can while avoiding the eyes of the law, or embrace the heartless criminal life, stealing and killing anything and everyone in your way. You can stick to the engaging narrative that takes you on a roundabout journey through the massive map from the bitter frozen peaks to the smog-covered mean streets of the city, or take your time and relax, travelling around at your own pace, collecting items, hunting wildlife, and just enjoying the view on the roads less ridden.

Terraria    Standing equal to Minecraft as the two kings of creative sandboxes, Terraria brings a greater focus on combat and gear progression with numerous boss fights and a map that evolves as you progress. The map itself may feel relatively small - the 2-D space makes it easier to explore from one end of the surface to the other - but the massive maze of caverns underneath is practically impossible to fully map out so there’s always something new to find. There are countless items to collect and enemies to hunt down, making Terraria a great game for the dedicated completionists. Between all the weapons, tools, armour, accessories, blocks, resources and decorations, the game boasts over 5,000 total items to find and craft, and Journey Mode allows the more building-inclined players to collect infinite amounts of them all. With continuous updates always adding a staggering amount of new content, the game has more than quintupled in size since launch over a decade ago! 

The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom    Embark on a magnificent adventure across the kingdom of Hyrule like never before in Tears of the Kingdom’s enormous three-tiered map: the mysterious sky islands, the familiar surface of Hyrule, and the ominous Depths. The surface is littered with a variety of collectables, sidequests, characters and challenges across a diverse landscape that features everything from fiery volcanoes to frosty mountain peaks and everything in-between. The sky islands are smaller, scattered around the clouds with unique mechanics, resources, and repeatable boss fights. The Depths, accessed through foreboding chasms dotting the surface, has a dark and oppressive atmosphere filled with difficult enemies and workstations containing various materials. As the heroic swordsman Link, piece together vehicles to explore the world more easily from different parts found all over the place - carts to cruise around the surface, or flying machines to soar into the sky or hover through the caverns. Between all the story content you can follow up on at your leisure, careful exploration is key to acquiring all the gear and other items you’ll need in the quest to save Hyrule from impending demonic destruction!

No Man’s Sky    When it comes to sandbox game map size, it doesn’t get any bigger than the vastness of outer space. How many planets are in No Man’s Sky’s cosmic playground, you might ask? Oh, only 18 quintillion procedurally-generated worlds populating 256 unique galaxies. That’s only more than triple the known size of our actual universe. Hop in your spaceship and explore through the stars however you like, harvesting different materials and hunting (or being hunted by) the diverse local wildlife - but be careful to check if the planet has a breathable atmosphere before jumping out without a helmet! Any star you see in the sky - and I do mean any - is an actual visitable system with its own planets, rewards and dangers. Between all the planets, space stations and other civilised areas can be found floating about, where you can upgrade your ship and learn new alien languages! You can even go online and encounter other players wandering the stars - assuming you even happen to bump into anyone by sheer chance in this enormous universe.

   Naturally, there are plenty of other sandbox games to explore - the genre itself is practically a sandbox of games, each with their own variety of content and unique spins on the usual features! Which sandbox games are your favourite? Got any suggestions to add to these five examples? Let me know! Feedback, reblogs and likes are all much appreciated!    Thanks for reading!

An Aussie Button-Masher

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Classic Action with Dynamic Combat in Black Myth: Wukong

Black Myth: Wukong is set in a mythological China, kinda inspired by Journey to the West. Instead of playing as Wukong himself, you’re stepping into the shoes of his successor. If you’re interested in similar adventures, you might want to check out where to buy Xbox games that offer a comparable experience. You control a young, mute monkey years after the OG Wukong’s reign. You’ll be on a wild quest to track down Wukong’s relics and fix up the world that’s gone totally off the rails. Think mad leaders and power struggles everywhere. Helping these areas is just a side effect of following in Wukong’s footsteps. The story’s kinda lit, with some familiar faces from the lore, but the way it’s told can be a bit messy. Sometimes you’ll find our monkey hero ending up in random places without much explanation—whether it’s popping out of a chest, waking up with arrows in you, or teleporting through ancient statues. The narrative doesn’t always flow smoothly and feels like some pieces are missing. Combat is probably the weakest link in Black Myth: Wukong, but it’s not awful since the whole package is pretty well put together. You’re rocking a staff, which you can upgrade to focus on critical hits or defense, but it’s still just one weapon with limited variety. It’s got some Souls-like vibes, but it’s more of a classic action game. You won’t be managing attributes; instead, you’ll earn skill points to level up your abilities. These include mystical arts, martial arts, and transformations. Combat’s where things get interesting—while you’ll mostly be mashing the light attack button to fill up your Focus meter for a big hit, the unique abilities you unlock keep things fresh and engaging.

Exploring the Vast World of Black Myth Wukong: Hidden Clues and Epic Secrets

So, even though we’re comparing Black Myth: Wukong to Souls games, it’s actually way easier than you’d think. We only hit a few bosses that gave us major trouble, needing five or more tries, while most encounters were a breeze with just one or two attempts. If you want to experience this challenge yourself, be sure to buy PS5 games to enjoy the full experience. Enemies do get tougher as you go, and there are classic traps that can toss you off cliffs, but usually, you’re only dealing with one or two enemies at a time. The difficulty’s pretty chill—learning enemy patterns is fun and you don’t get wrecked too hard. You can die from a few hits, but bouncing back is usually easy. Black Myth: Wukong doesn’t do the whole hand-holding thing. There’s no quest journal telling you exactly where to go or what you’ve picked up. You’ll need to figure out the progression yourself. NPCs drop hints or clues about where to head next, but since the game world is huge, you might easily forget if it’s on the other side of the map. You’ll find tons of secrets and the lack of a guided journal just makes the whole adventure more epic.

A Must-Play for Fans of Chinese Mythology: Master Staff Moves and Customizable Combat

Black Myth: Wukong totally blew us away. It had a ton of hype from the start, but Game Science really knocked it out of the park. This game is a visual feast that brings ancient China and its mythology to life like never before. The story might be a bit hazy, but its creative vibes will definitely keep you hooked. The world and quest design are next-level, with each area packed with stuff to explore, keeping the game fresh all the way through. Combat might get a bit repetitive despite all the cool abilities and skills you can unlock, but the boss fights are super satisfying and make you think hard about your strategy. Black Myth: Wukong is an epic, immersive experience that’s a must-play for fans of Chinese mythology. On top of mastering different staff moves, you can mix and match spells, abilities, weapons, and gear to find the perfect combo that fits your playstyle.