#in the sense of being united & pushing for change through that unity

[performancesports]

Sports as National identity.

Sports and sporting activities have always been an integral part of human society, serving not just as a form of physical activity, but also as a reflection of the values, aspirations, and national identity of a nation. The way we engage with sports and how it is portrayed on a national scale can reveal a great deal about our individual and collective perspectives on the world.

The connection between body and sport is deeply ingrained in how we perceive ourselves and our place in the world. Physical activity not only enhances our physical well-being but also shapes our mindset and outlook on life. Through sports, individuals are able to push their limits, challenge themselves, and ultimately develop a sense of discipline, dedication, and determination. These qualities are not only beneficial on a personal level but also contribute to the overall ethos of a nation.

National climate, in both a literal and metaphorical sense, can greatly influence the sporting culture of a country. Climate can dictate the types of sports that are popular in a certain region, as well as the level of interest and investment in sporting activities. For example, countries with harsh winters may prioritize winter sports such as skiing and ice hockey, while countries with warmer climates may focus more on outdoor sports like soccer and tennis. These sporting preferences can become deeply rooted in a nation's identity, shaping how it is perceived on the global stage.

The powers of sports and sporting in shaping national identity are undeniable. Sporting events have the ability to bring people together, regardless of their background or beliefs, under a common cause. The sense of pride and unity that comes from supporting a national team can create a strong sense of national identity and belonging. In this way, sports can transcend social and political boundaries, fostering a sense of camaraderie and community among individuals.

Furthermore, sports play a critical role in the social hierarchy of a nation. Athletes are often viewed as role models and cultural icons, representing the values and ideals of a society. The success and achievement of athletes can inspire others to strive for greatness and push the boundaries of what is possible. In this way, sports can act as a catalyst for positive change, promoting equality, diversity, and inclusivity within a society.

The trending popularity of sports can be attributed to its universal appeal and ability to connect people across borders and cultures. In an increasingly globalized world, sports serve as a common language that transcends cultural differences and brings people together in a spirit of competition and camaraderie.

In conclusion, sports and sporting activities hold immense power in shaping our individual and national identities. Through sports, we are able to connect with others, challenge ourselves, and inspire positive change within our societies. As we continue to embrace the value and power of sports, we can harness its transformative potential to create a more inclusive, united, and harmonious world.

[csnabroad]

Julia's Costa Rica Diaries #3

College was never my thing. I never thought I would be going back to school after 10 years. Nonetheless, here I am 3 years into school and enjoying every bit of it. I am in my thirties and one thing that I always regretted was not being more involved in after school curriculums. I would look through my yearbook and notice I missed out. When I decided to go back to school at the College of Southern Nevada, I told myself I will indulge and make the best of it. I have been to a few field trips around the state and have participated in research and field work, but nothing compared to the experience of traveling to Costa Rica and study the effect of climate change. I am an Environmental Management student and going to another country and to understand the different practices and basic ethics that they practice regarding their land was beautiful and eye opening. During my trip I was able to see some of the most vibrant and luscious forest I have ever seen. Towns full of people farming for themselves. Having an actual concern and love for the land they live on and care for one another. There are communities protecting the surrounding forest alongside of the government. By working together, they are able to create connections within each forest and keep the natural habitats that the forests house.

Overlooking a town in Costa Rica.

A school van parked next to the town.

In the United States it is not very common for us to know our neighbors anymore let alone share our food with them. The connections that our urban towns should have, have been lost or disconnected. Contrasting between the two countries encourages me to keep pushing forward in my career in environmental management. I hope to bring that sense of unity back into our own communities to be able to sustain the following generations people and animals alike.

—written by Julia Chavez

[cosmosim]

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[berrymeter]

feel the need to make it clear once again that i have better shit to worry about than deciding who gets to be lgbt. if your internet presence is nothing but focus on keeping ‘the ones who are NOT lgbt’ out you’re kinda pathetic & should log off probably bc things don’t work like that anyway? get a hobby or something

[daxieoclock]

{h} VANE I HAD A COOL THOUGHT. u have to mix up the persona protags (3-5) and put them with a different group. up to u if this is for the plot of their game or with the group established. who goes with who and why and how do they fit into the dynamic

!!!! That’s such a cool idea!!! I’m gonna do what comes to mind and just swap from the very start, cut and paste sorta dealio

Hm hm hm…I’ll assume that Minako and Minato are a package deal, so they’d both get moved to that other group. And speaking of! Let’s start with them.

I think the Arisatos would both fit extremely well in the phantom thieves. Whether they’re siblings or a system, either way I think p5’s themes of rebellion versus sloth works really well for minato’s difficulties with moving forward, tending towards passivity and acceptance for a while, while minako’s upbeat personality could get them both through those early couple palaces but she would struggle more with the pervasive anxiety and depressing during the thieves’ kinda downswing from the end of the okumura arc until midway through the yaldy arc.

I would also really love to see their foiling with Akechi. Like. It wouldn’t them be the same as ren’s, but I think they could have some real fascinating interactions. Oh, and imagine how jazzed Futaba would be to have TWO cool and dorky older siblings. Dual wielding key items dhfhfg

Yu is probably the hardest one to fit in any persona game outside of his own, since he’s just…the most terminally unaffected character in the modern trilogy. The only other place that made sense for him would be in a game where he could be a background character, since he already kind of is in p4. So, even though it would probably be to the detriment of the game and story, I think he could manage alright enough in p3.

The thieves could operate autonomously if joker were a cardboard cutout, but ren’s role as leader is tantamount to their success, unity and continued ability to find new thieves. SEES on the other hand…I mean, it would be a less compelling game, but Arisato isn’t a linchpin of their ability to actually function. They’re important to the members of SEES, but not necessarily to the existence of the team itself.

So I think Narukami could do fine enough just standing in the background and being a bland motivational speaker. Like we didn’t need or even want a second Junpei, but at least he could help by being the one trauma-free ally in the friend group who helps make sure things get done.

And now. The fun one. Ren in Persona 4. This could go one of two ways. Either nothing significant changes and Ren is fucking miserable the whole time like Naoto and Kanji and Rise but at least he’s a good mystery solver, cause he’s smart and clever and in his own game was set up as a foil to a literal actual detective.

And! The fact that the “foil” style villain of p4 is a COP makes a ton more sense for Ren than yu. Like Adachi still doesn’t foil Ren directly, but he’d be a great fakeout final antagonist, the avatar of the primary villain being a police officer makes sense and would push Ren to his limits. So that’s already an improvement. He’d also be a fantastic big brother to nanako, even though his bond with dojima would be a lot more strained.

But assuming some aspects of the story would change to cater to this new protagonist…g-d the game could be so good actually. Like Ren helping be that emotional core for the investigation team, bonding with naoto (transmasc to transmasc communication), helping both support and defend his new friends without allowing any of their occasional bullshit, it could really lead the team towards an ending where they all are happy and comfortable in themselves and feel genuinely at home in this new found family unit, rather than how canon feels where everyone is all smiles and good times and then as soon as they drift apart even a centimeter the entire team fractures in half irreparably.

[viking-raider]

Of Truth and Justice - Part VI *FIN*

Summary: The battle of the Mother Boxes and the future.

Pairing: Clark Kent/OFC

Word Count: 12,314

Rating: M - Justice League!AU, Language, Violence, Nightmares, Visions, Death, Fluff, Angst, Dark themes, Dirty Jokes

Inspiration: The Snyder Cut and DCU

Author’s Note: It was fine while it lasted, thanks for all the love and support on it! As always, thank you to @wondersofdreaming​ for inspiring me and doing her best to help keep my manic muse in order.

Clark and Calea didn't go back to sleep, they sat on the porch swing and watched the sunrise over the flat fields of Kansas, Clark's arm slung over her shoulders and her head laid on his arm. The screen door beside them creaked open and Martha peeked her head out, smiling softly at the two.

Clark took a deep breath and turned his head towards her, smiling back at her.

“Mornin'.” She greeted them, Calea looking up at her.

“Morning, Ma.” Clark replied, calm and relaxed, even though his mind had been whirl-winding around the realistic nightmare Calea had during the night.

“I got breakfast on the table, if either of ya want it.” She invited them.

“Thank you, Mrs. Kent.” Calea answered, feeling her stomach rumble like an earthquake.

Martha smiled brighter at Calea, softly shaking her head. “Just call me, Martha.” She told her, with a nod of her head, and disappeared back inside.

“See.” Clark grinned at her. “Told you she'd like you.”

Calea chuckled, blushing softly. “You did.” She nodded, kissing his cheek and stood, heading inside the house with him, the amazing smell of breakfast beckoning her to the table. “This is delicious, Mrs.--Martha.” She complimented her, smiling at her across the table.

“I'm glad.”

“I'm going to take a shower.” She whispered to Clark, as they finished washing up the breakfast dishes for Martha.

“All right.” He nodded, but his brow was creased at her, sensing something was off with her, but didn't want to push it. “Ma said there was something acting up with her car, I'll check that out, while you do.”

“Sounds good.”

Calea smiled, forcefully, pushing up on her toes and kissed his cheek, before quietly going upstairs to his room, stopping by the still broken bed, half an embarrassed smirk tugged up on one corner of her lip, while a frown of conflict pulled down on the other side. Shaking her head, Calea entered his small bathroom and stripped, stepping into the shower stall and cranking the tap, the shower head came sputtering to life. She wasn't even sure what temperature the water was as it washed over her, a throb rolled up her spine and burst through the base of her skull, like fireworks through her brain.

“Ah.” She whimpered, pressing her hands to the shower wall in front of her, squeezing her eyes shut and tried to ride it out.

She panted heavily, trembling, as the pain only intensified, rocking wave after wave through her body. Flashes of an almost desolate place flashed in her mind's eye, searing the picture of some sort of force field forming over it, like the exposed insides of a leaf, slowly blanketing a dome over it, sealing the rough and darkened buildings inside.

“No, no, no!” She whined out, beating her palms against the wall, creaking the old and worn tile.

Stumbling out of the shower, water still running, she scoured Clark's bedroom for her clothing, dripping wet and all.

“Calea?” Martha frowned as Calea charged down the stairs, storming by her. “Is everything all right, hon?” She asked, concerned.

“No, no no.” Calea replied, thundering towards the front door, nearly blowing it off the hinges as she rushed out of it, needing to find Clark, needing him frantically.

“Whoa, easy.” He startled as she grabbed the back of his shirt, colliding with him. “What's wrong?” He asked, holding her by the shoulders and searching her eyes. “Calea, what is it?”

“It's the Boxes, Clark.” She gasped, eyes unfocused, and trembling. “It's the Boxes, they're charging up. He's starting the Unity.” She told him, between deep swallows of air.

“Steppenwolf has started them.”

Clark's face fell at her words, his own anxiety and alarm spiking. “Are you sure?”

“I have to go.” She whimpered, shaking her head. “I have to go to them.”

“No, Calea.” Clark shook his head at her, cupping her face in his hands. “No, we need to get back to the Hall and inform the League, we need to warn them and get them together. Then, we'll go find Steppenwolf and the Mother Boxes.”

“They're calling to me.” Calea replied in an eerie voice. “I have to go to them. They need me.”

Clark's stomach twisted at the sound of her voice and the expression on her face. He pushed her head back to look up at him, but her eyes wouldn't focus, she no longer saw him, or even the farm, all she saw were the Boxes morphing and humming, slowly twisting to meld together as one, while trying to entice her into joining with them, fulfilling her greatest power and potential.

“Fight it, Calea.” He bolstered her, shaking her by the shoulders and trying to get her to snap out of it. “Calea!” He barked, hands squeezing her shoulders.

Calea blinked several times, taking deep breaths in and out, trying to push back against the hum of the Boxes inside her head. Letting out a painstaking groan, she looked up at Clark, gulping thickly.

“We don't have much time.” She rasped, feeling them gnaw at her mind to get back in.

Clark got suited back up and took off with Calea back to the Hall of Justice.

“Where have you two been?” Arthur asked, eyeing Clark and Calea as they came into the hall.

“Where's everyone else?” Clark asked, ignoring the Atlantean's question and look.

“They're down in the lab.”

Clark took Calea's hand, unwilling to be without her, afraid that she would start losing control again. They made their way down to the lab, finding Victor and Bruce leaning over a table. The pair looked up as Calea and Clark came in, instantly knowing something was wrong by their body language.

“What's happened?” Bruce asked, pushing off the table and studying them.

“Steppenwolf's started the Unity with the Mother Boxes.” Clark replied, squeezing Calea's hand.

“We know.” Bruce replied, frowning. “We got the signal forty minutes ago.” He added, sensing something was deeply off with Calea.

“Is she all right?”

“They're calling to me.” She replied, struggling to fight back the gnawing pressure of the Boxes in the base of her mind. “They want...need...me to go to them.”

“Then, it's out of the question.” Bruce shook his head, folding his arms.

“You can't stop those Boxes without me.” Calea told him, bluntly. “I'm what stops them, once and for all.”

“She's right.” Victor nodded, he felt the pull and call of the Boxes as well. “She's the Father Box and the Unity Key. Without her, they can't reach their full power or be destroyed.”

“Look at her!” Arthur snapped, coming into the room. “She's barely holding back from submitting to them already. What happens, when she gets close enough to destroy them.”

“I either destroy them, or they end up destroying me and the planet.” Calea growled at him. “Which gamble do you want to take, Arthur? My life for the world, or the world's life, because you were too much of a chicken shit to take a risk to save it?”

“It's not even your planet.” Arthur huffed, glaring at her. “Your people ended up becoming Darkseid and Steppenwolf's lackeys, that same weakness lives inside of you.”

Calea snapped to Arthur, pinning him up against the wall, teeth bared at him. “I have no weakness.” She hissed. “Unlike you, Arthur Curry; and the Mother Boxes exploit one's weakness.” She whispered, pressing her palms into his collarbones, the blue tint lighting up her eyes as she dug into Arthur's mind and picked out his weakness; the feeling of abandonment from his mother, that caused his reluctance for commitment.

“Calea.” Clark snapped, pulling her off Arthur. “We don't need to be going at each other's throats. It's what Steppenwolf and Darkseid would want; to fracture us, so we were too divided to fight him.”

“Clark is right.” Diana agreed, coming into the lab with Barry and Alfred. “We need to stick together.”

“Do we have any idea where Steppenwolf and the Boxes are, and how it is Calea's meant to destroy them?” Bruce asked, looking around the room, meeting everyone's eyes.

Victor and Calea looked at each other, they knew exactly where the Boxes were, with Victor being brought back with a Mother Box and Calea being the Father Box, they were in tune with the Boxes, and to a degree, each other.

“Yes.” Victor finally replied, looking away from Calea and bringing up a map. “It's an abandoned nuclear site in Russia.” He said, showing it to them. “The amount of radiation it had would be perfect for what he's doing.”

“Wouldn't you run the chance of growing an extra leg out of your neck, with that level of radioactive materials?” Barry asked, concerned.

“Ordinarily, yes.” Victor replied, troubled. “But, the force field Steppenwolf is building around the Mother Boxes, and the Boxes themselves, have absorbed the radiation in the surrounding area.”

“It's relatively safe.”

“Relatively?” Bruce echoed back, lifting a brow at him.

“That's not accounting for the army of Para-Demons he has at his disposal, and the Boxes uniting.” He elaborated, frowning back at Bruce.

Calea whimpered, pressing her fingers to her temples, flashing spots in her eyes. “We need to do something now.” She whined, gripping Clark's arm as she wavered on her feet.

“We're losing time.”

“We need to formulate a plan.” Diana said, leaning against the table and studying the map Victor still had up. “Can you show us what this force field looks like?” She asked, lifting a brow at him.

Nodding, the map hologram changed to a live view of the strange dome that was pulsating over the abandoned city, para-demons swarming all over it. “We need a way to get inside of it.” Victor said, scanning the protective dome for any possible weak points.

“What about some good old fashioned fire power?” Bruce asked, chewing on his lip as he studied it. “Blast an opening long enough to slip through, then try taking out whatever it is keeping the thing up?” He suggested, glancing around the table.

“It might work.” Diana nodded slowly, brows pinched with concentration and worry.

“Only one way to find out.” Arthur chimed in, a similar expression on his own face.

“Let's go.” Bruce said, turning on his heels. “Everyone get suited up and meet on the ship.” He threw over his shoulder, before jogging upstairs to get his Batman suit on.

The team scattered to get ready for the fight, while Clark stayed with Calea, both of them already suited up and ready to go. Clark felt antsy about Calea going with them to confront Steppenwolf and the Para-Demons, especially after her nightmare the evening before and the way the Boxes were affecting her at this distance. She felt the same, but wasn't going to let it stop her from trying to stop them from allowing Darkseid onto Earth.

“It'll be all right.” She whispered, looking up into his face, Clark never bothered to hide what he was feeling from her.

“We don't know that.” He whispered back, cupping her face in his hands.

Calea smiled up at him, despite all the agony she was in. “I know that.” She told him, softly. “You said it yourself, the hardest things have a reason for happening.”

“Not like this.”

“Is Superman scared?” She teased him, gripping his wrists.

“Of losing you,” He stared into her eyes. “More than anything else in my life.”

“You won't lose me, Clark. I'm not going anywhere, especially not without you. So, we'd both have to die, for that to happen, and I don't intend on dying.”

“Do you?”

“Once was enough for me.” Clark laughed, pulling her into his arms.

“And I'd rather not try it myself.” She giggled, locking her arms around his waist.

“You two love birds ready to go?” Bruce asked, coming back into the room.

“Yeah.” They both replied in unison, breaking apart and following Bruce to the jet.

The flight didn't take long to make, but it was tense and filled with uncertain anxiety of what they would find and experience once they arrived at the site; and the closer they got the more agitated Calea became, waves of pain continued to ripple through her body in increasing strength, making her break out into sweat as she paced the ship's loading bay, her head throbbing and sick to her stomach. The team was forced to watch her, like she was some sort of wounded and caged animal, waiting for the right moment to burst through the bars of its prison and attack the first thing it could get its claws on.

“The stronger the Mother Boxes become in their Unity and the closer we get to them, the more she's going to suffer and be affected.” Victor said, feeling the same tingle of discomfort, but not nearly the level Calea did.

“She's in a deep battle of wills with them.”

“Let's just hope her mind and will is stronger than them.” Bruce commented, frightened.

Clark nodded, anxiously, as he watched Calea pace, pounding the sides of her fists against her pounding and sweaty forehead. He felt as useless as the rest, “I'm Superman, and the one superpower I don't have is to ease the pain you're in.” He whimpered, stopping her and folding her into his arms. “If I hadn't died, none of this would have happened.”

“It's not like you died on purpose.” Calea mumbled into his chest, locking her arms around his waist.

“But, I knew it was a very big possibility with how close I was to the Kryptonite spear.” He replied, nuzzling the top of her head.

“It's still not your fault, Clark.” She whimpered, pressing her face against his chest as a fresh wave of pain hit her. “None of this is.”

“We've arrived.” Victor informed them.

The craft landed some distance away from Steppenwolf's base, wanting to give the team as much of an element of surprise as possible, since the Boxes undoubtedly knew Calea was close to them, and would soon give that signal to Steppenwolf and his demons.

“Calea, you're going to stay here and wait until we take out as many of the Para-Demons as we can and get the shield down. That way we don't run the risk of them capturing you.” Bruce said, laying out the plan.

“And the farther I am from them, you think the less likely I am to submit to them?” She replied smugly, between clenched teeth.

“It's for your own good.” Clark told her, resting his hand on the small of her trembling back.

“And, the team's.” Bruce added, before continuing. “I'll take the jet and punch a hole in the shield, then locate the tower that's keeping it up. Once the force field is down, the rest of the team can get in there and start smashing heads.”

“I'll see what I can do to help you destroy the boxes.” Victor said to Calea.

“Good, cause I don't have much of an idea how to do that on my own.” Calea chuckled, shaking her head.

Bruce stepped back onto the jet, closing the bay door behind him and got behind the controls. Taking a deep breath in and out, Bruce pulled the aircraft off the ground and started towards the field, praying that his idea on how to get inside was right. The team watched, tensely, as the thrusters on the jet came to life, rocketing the craft towards the glowing orange ward.

Flipping a switch on the control stick, Bruce fired a blast at the dome and let out a semi-relieved breath, seeing an opening appear in the fabric of the ward's makeup, but it only stayed open for a moment, before closing up again, causing him to miss his chance to get inside.

“He's not going to make it.” Victor shook his head, watching Bruce bring the ship back around and start to fly head on into it.

“Is he going to ram it or something?” Barry fretted, shifting uneasily on his feet.

“No.” Bruce replied over their communication wave. “I just need a little more fire power.” He growled, and opened up on the shield with all the guns and bombs the craft had on it, blowing a massive hole in it and flew right through the fiery plume it left behind.

“I'm in!” He snapped, adrenaline really pumping. “Get ready, I'm about to bring down the tower.”

A moment later, a large explosion sounded from within the ward and it started to crumble, like a leaf burning away to nothing. The team jostled themselves, waiting for the last of the shield to vanish before jumping into action, Diana, Victor and Arthur taking off and soaring towards the defenseless city, and with a crackle of lightning and a strong breeze, Barry was gone in a red blur. But, Clark didn't move from Calea's side as they watched the rest of them jump into action.

“Go.” She told him, jerking her head towards the action.

“Are you sure you'll be all right up here, by yourself.” He frowned, reluctant.

“Hey, if I can't have some fun kicking Para-Demon ass, you might as well for both of us.” She told him, gripping his hand in hers, forcing a smile for him, that didn't quite make it.

“Go. I'll be here, ready and waiting.”

Clark looked between her and the sounds of the battle that the League had gotten going without them. “All right.” He sighed, kissing her gently, then took off with a boom of the sound barrier breaking behind him.

Calea frowned after him, antsy and annoyed, she wanted in on the action, but knew that getting any closer to the Boxes too soon could possibly have dire consequences for the team, the planet and her. So, she paced the ledge that overlooked the city, seeing the blue zigzags of Barry zooming about the place, the glittering effect of Bruce shooting at Para-Demons from the Bat-mobile he had brought with him and flashes of things from Clark and Victor, heat vision, arm cannons, the occasionally hyped yell from Arthur, and the few times Diana connected her gauntlets together, letting out a harsh, ringing shockwave.

It wasn't five minutes after the battle began that a sharp and icy cold spike speared through her mind, driving her to her knees with a yelp of pain. She moaned, fingers digging into the debris filled soil, trying to fight the ever increasing call of the Boxes, the images they keep flashing through her mind and the whispers that kept taunting and enticing her to join them. She took deep and gasping breaths, trying to push them out and ignore them, but it was getting harder for her to fight them off.

She groaned and coughed, before throwing up into the dirt and sat back on her heels. “You won't win.” She mewled to the Boxes. “I am stronger than you and everything you throw at me. There is nothing you can do that will make me submit to you.”

“Not even your greatest fear?” The Boxes rasped back inside her mind.

“I have no fear, no weakness.” She growled back, feeling their pressure on her brain magnify, making her eyes water and blur. “There is nothing in me you can exploit. I came to terms with them long ago, they are useless for you.”

“You think that, princess.”

A bubble of strong energy swept across her face, nearly knocking her backwards with the force. Wiping the dirt and tears out of her face, Calea's stomach dropped, the entire city was leveled and nothing stirred inside of it. She struggled to her feet, scrambling to the edge of the ledge and scanned the area, not picking up any heartbeats.

“Clark.” She whimpered, then launched herself off the top of the cliff, racing towards the city, in hopes of finding any one of the League alive and unharmed. “Barry.” She gulped, finding him laying under a pile of rubble, dead.

She picked her way through the city, finding Diana, Victor and Arthur's bodies, all of them dead. Pain and grief ripped through her as she reached the center, where the Mother Boxes were still alive and humming, almost completely one Box, Bruce knelt before them, severely injured, but somehow still alive, holding on by a thread.

“Bruce!” Calea cried out, rushing towards him. “Bruce, look at me.” She huffed, cupping his bloody face in her hands. “What happened? Where's Clark?” She demanded, trying to get him to focus on her.

“He turned on us.” Bruce moaned and coughed, droplets of blood spraying from his lips.

“What?”

“Touch them, Calea.” Clark's voice called behind them as he landed on the long walkway leading up to the Boxes. “Touch them, so we can be one.” He told her with a sweet smile, that didn't reach his eyes. “This is our destiny, why we were brought together. Why we are the bridge between the universe and Earth.”

“Don't.” Bruce rasped, shaking his head at her. “It's a trap. He's been working with Steppenwolf and Darkseid, the whole time. He was luring you into this, lying and manipulating you into completing the Unity.”

“Don't listen to him, Calea!” Clark roared, growing dangerously angry, his eyes glowing red hot. “He's keeping you from your potential, your true purpose in this world.” He barked at her, stepping closer. “He's jealous of us, he wants you for himself. Take my hand and we'll be together, forever.” He enticed her.

Calea looked between Clark and Bruce, confused and conflicted on what to believe, but shook her head. “No.” She barked back, standing up. “No, this isn't real. This isn't true. You're both lying to me!” She screamed, turning in a circle. “This won't work!” She yelled, looking around her, knowing it was an illusion by the Mother Boxes.

“It's real.” Bruce hissed, suddenly jumping to his feet.

“No!” Clark roared, as Bruce leveled one of his gadgets at Calea and fired, hitting her square in the chest and sent her stumbling backwards. “Calea!” He cried, rushing towards her, catching her as she fell to the ground. “No, no. Please, no.” He gasped, watching blood bubble out of her chest. “Why didn't you listen to me! Why didn't you just give them what they wanted!” He berated her, clutching her to his chest, a tear dripping down his cheek.

“Please, I love you.” He whimpered at her, feeling and hearing her heart start to slow. “You're my world, don't leave me.” He begged her as she stilled and grew quiet in his arms.

Clark let out an ear splitting scream that echoed outward, his heartbreak and angry ringing out across the Universe.

Calea clawed at her chest, still able to feel the pain of Bruce's weapon, but found nothing, not a drop of blood or a single scratch. “Oh, you bastards.” She hissed, still on her hands and knees.

“This is what will happen, if you do not Unify the Boxes, Selian. They will all die, as will you.” The Boxes growled back, like nails on a chalkboard. “If you do not do this, this world is doomed, and your love will be lost, an aid to Darkseid, his greatest weapon and General.”

Calea stayed in place, debating on whether or not she should go to the Boxes, what if they were playing her again, they surely were, but there felt like an element of truth to their words and visions as well. Taking a deep breath, Calea pushed herself to her feet, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment to regain her balance and center of mind, before a static-y aura sizzled around her and she snapped from the ledge to down in the city. She appeared just as Bruce was ejected from his wrecked Bat-mobile and caught him mid-air, setting him back down on his feet, but as their bare skin touched and a strong pulse thumped between them, tapping into something deep in Bruce's mind.

She gripped onto him tighter, wanting to see it clearer.

It was the same apocalyptic world she had seen in her nightmare the night before, Clark, dark and evil, working for Darkseid, his greatest weapon. Bruce was one of the last Justice League members, trying to survive the desert wasteland. The deaths of Diana and Arthur left only Bruce, Barry and Victor together, followed and grouped with several others, another Atlantean, by the look of her clothing, a man with a white Mohawk and a missing eye, and a long haired man, wearing a SWAT vest and strange make up. The struggling resistance against Darkseid and the world that Steppenwolf and the Mother Boxes had created for his arrival. The group argued about something she couldn't hear, but they suddenly became afraid and out of the sky someone landed ahead of them.

Clark.

His expression was maniacal, the energy he gave off, even through the dream or vision, was far worse, unhinged and diabolical. He wasn't the man, the Kryptonian, that she knew, that either of them knew. He had lost his ability to care, his compassion and empathy dried up and gone. He glared at the group of survivors, his heat vision warming up, turning his empty and angry blue eyes a glowing red.

“Clark, please.” Bruce begged him, putting up his hands in desperation. “Don't do this! This isn't who you are!”

“Who I am, Bruce?” Clark hissed back, tilting his head at the Bat. “You would know about who I am, wouldn't you?” He taunted him, taking a step closer to him. “You knew who I was once, before you took her from me. She is what made me who I was. She was the only thing that mattered to me, she was my world, my reasoning.”

The searing hot beams of his heat vision burst from his eyes, melting through everyone behind Bruce, killing them.

“But, you got her killed, and I promised her, I would make you pay, and I will.” He growled, grabbing Bruce by the throat and taking off into the sky.

The vision didn't stop there either, she caught the glimpse of Barry appearing to Bruce through a wormhole he generated, coming back in time. “It's her.” Barry said in a watery voice. “She's the key, she's always been the key.”

“Calea?” Bruce's voice broke through to her. “Calea!” He called again, yanking his hand out of hers, recalling her to the present. “What are you doing down here, we're not ready for you yet.” He scolded her, concerned, as she shook her head, trying to dislodge the images that coincided with her dream and what the Mother Boxes were showing her.

“I have to do this, or we're all doomed.” She whimpered, stepping away from him. “Clark, especially.”

“What are you talking about?” Bruce frowned, shaking his head at her.

“The dream you had, about Clark turning bad and working for Darkseid, because of my apparent death.” She told him, meeting his eyes. “I've had a similar one and the Mother Boxes have been showing it to me as well.”

Bruce froze, taken aback by her words. “So, it is possible?”

“It could be, if I don't get to those Boxes and stop them.” She replied, her eyes looking over to the abandoned nuclear tower that Steppenwolf had set the Mother Boxes up in.

“Wait, we're almost done here!” Bruce called out to her, as she started in the tower's direction.

“So are the Boxes.” She replied, before bounding closer to the tower and out of earshot of Bruce.

“We have a problem.” Bruce barked over communication, just as a pair of Para-demons showed up to fight him. “Calea is heading for the Boxes.”

“That's not good.” Barry reported back, zipping around his own Para-Demon problem.

“I'll go and check on her, you guys keep fighting.” Victor replied, powering up his thrusters and headed in that direction.

Calea landed on the walkway that led to the center of the nuclear tower, finding Steppenwolf there with the Mother Boxes and a small swarm of Para-Demons. The pull of the Boxes were a hundred times greater inside the tower than outside of it, almost making Calea dizzy and numb to everything around her, but them. Steppenwolf turned, as the Para-Demons twisted their heads to look over at her, and smiled smugly, seeing her standing there.

“Ah, Princess, so you've decided to join us after all.” He chuckled at her. “Or should I say, Queen, being you would have succeeded your parents after their needless deaths.”

“I haven't come to join you.” Calea replied, sneering at him. “I've come to see you and Darkseid. I won't let you destroy this world or the people in it.”

“Your concern for these puny humans is laughable, Selian. Wasting your potential and power on these mortals, instead of basking in the glory that could be yours.”

“There is no glory in commanding a wasteland.” She hissed back, body tensing against the growing battle of the Boxes and the fight that was about to happen between herself and Steppenwolf.

“If you won't join us willingly, then you will be forced to!” Steppenwolf barked, then hissed at his Para-Demons. “Bring her to me.”

Screeching, the Para-Demons started after her, but Calea stood her ground, growling at him as they neared her, but before they could, she slapped her cupped hands together, sending out a massive shockwave that ripped through the pursuing demons and knocked them backwards, obliterating their insect-like wings at the same time, causing them to drop out of the sky and crashing to the ground below. Steppenwolf growled at the disposal of his minions, gripping his axe tighter in both hands and advanced on Calea himself, raising the weapon above his head.

She was ready and waiting for him, looking forward to battling the monster that had killed her parents and destroyed her home, so many people's homes. She side stepped his downward swing of his weapon and punched him in the side, making him grunt and fly sideways, then advanced on him, hitting him again and sending him back farther.

“Coming through!” Victor yelled, sailing over Calea's head and collided with Steppenwolf as he recovered.

“You think I'm letting you have all the fun!” Calea called back, joining in with him.

Calea and Victor fought back and forth with Steppenwolf, dodging and blocking his blows, while returning them. Steppenwolf tossed Victor off of him and halfway across the tower, before grabbing Calea by the shoulder, picking her up off the ground, her feet dangling as she struggled with him.

“You were never meant to defeat me.” He hissed, steadily squeezing her shoulder more and more, the bones underneath creaking and protesting the pressure.

“Good thing she's not alone!” Diana's voice called back as she and Arthur joined in on the fight.

“Damn right!” Arthur cried in agreement, banging the end of his trident on the ground, three times, before charging Steppenwolf with Diana.

“Hm.” Steppenwolf huffed, tossing Calea over the side of the walkway.

Calea cried out as she landed on her back, all the air leaving her body. She laid there, painfully wheezing as she watched Arthur sail towards Steppenwolf, his trident held out in front of him, ready to stab him through with it, while Diana descended upon him, her sword poised above her head to come down on him. A crackle of energy popped in the air for a moment, before Barry skidded to a stop beside her, kneeling down.

“Oh my gosh, are you all right?” He asked, hands poised above her, but unsure if he should touch her or not.

“I'm f-fine.” Calea wheezed back, pushing herself up on her elbows. “Go help th-them.”

“Right.” He nodded and was gone again.

Calea pulled herself up, panting and shrugging at the soreness of her shoulder and arm, her eyes going to the unguarded Mother Boxes. Catching her breath, she pushed off the ground, jumping up to the landing beside them. Their strength was almost nauseating at this range, but she pushed through it, moving to stand beside them, sparks jumping between the slowly merging Boxes. She reached out to them, the sparks jumping to the tips of her fingers.

“Calea, no!” Clark's voice rang out as he landed on the other side of the Boxes. “Don't touch them.”

Sighing, Calea looked across at him. “It's the only way, Clark.” She replied, feeling it now, the call between her DNA as the Father Box and the makeup of the Mother Boxes.

The only way for her to stop the Unity between them, was for Calea to become one with them, destroying them from the inside out.

“It's the only way.”

“No, there's has to be another way.” He tried convincing her, looking over his shoulder to the team, still trying to keep Steppenwolf occupied. “Let us deal with Steppenwolf, then we'll figure this out.”

“It'll be too late by then, Clark.” She cooed back at him, smiling at him softly. “I love you.” She whispered, before pushing her hands into the active Boxes.

Calea gasped as the Boxes grabbed a hold of her, physically and mentally, her back arching as they all surged together. Clark started forward, as a blast from Calea and the Mother Boxes knocked him and everyone else away, like it wanted to keep them from stopping what was about to happen. The worn and uncared for concrete and steel rebar structure of the tower around them groaned, cracking and flaking, running debris down all around them. Calea tried pulling back from the Boxes, but they only pulled her in farther each time she did, from her hands, all the way up to her elbows. Electricity surged and crackled between her and the Boxes, sending out huge bolts of lightning to strike every surface in the tower.

Her eyes glowed bright blue, brighter than they ever had in her life, as the League watched in awe and frightened disbelief, Calea's strength and pain mounted, reaching an all new fevered-pitch.

“My god.” Victor gasped, mouth dropping open as the Mother Boxes slowly started to shrink in size.

“What's happening?” Diana asked, slack jawed as well.

“She's absorbing them.” Victor replied. “Or they're absorbing themselves into her, I can't tell which.”

The Mother Boxes vanished and Calea swayed on her feet, her chin dropping to her chest as her head throbbed and felt heavier than anything she could describe, then fell to her knees, eyes falling shut. Everything was still and quiet for a moment, no one daring to move, scared that if they did, it would only speed up what was brewing around them.

“Yes.” Steppenwolf finally hissed, standing up and smiling at her, excited for this change of events. “It's completed.” He chuckled, looking to the League. “You've failed.” He laughed at them.

“Calea?” Clark called out, pulling himself up onto his feet.

Her head lifted at the sound of his voice, tilting slightly, as she opened her eyes again, they were still bright blue and alive with the electric power that was stored inside of her, but they didn't stay that way. It was like dropping midnight black ink into water, slowly spreading and clouding until there was nothing left, but darkness. Her glowing blue eyes turned a solid black, but lost none of their charged properties.

“Oh no.” Diana gasped, realizing the Mother Boxes had managed to take full control over Calea, turning her dark. “Calea, no!” She called out, watching Calea rise to her feet, like she was being pulled up by an invisible string.

“Yes!” Steppenwolf yelled back. “Open the portal! Let Darkseid and his forces rule this world!” He declared, gripping his Electro Axe tighter in his hands.

Sparks of energy weaved their way around her fingers and up her arms, like teeny electrical caterpillars. She turned her hand palm up, an orb of blue energy pooled in her hand and then the other one, where she pushed them together and pulled them apart again, like kneading and stretching dough. She turned on her heels and took several steps towards the edge of the central platform, hands wide apart and the ball of energy the same size, before flicking her wrists sharply, throwing the bubble of power out of her hands to suspend in the mid-air to continue spreading.

Within moments the web of energy she created turned into a massive portal between Apokolips and Earth, revealing DeSaad and Darkseid waiting on the other side of it, with an even bigger army of Para-Demons.

“Now!” Steppenwolf roared, a feeling of accomplished victory in the pit of his stomach, his redemption and restorative to his former glory and power. “Kill them!” He ordered her, pointing to the League, behind him.

Calea turned her attention to them and every member of the League tensed, making her smirk at them. She advanced on the first of them that was closest to her, which just happened to be Barry. He tried to charge himself up to get away from her, but as he started to run away, Calea matched his speed, grabbing onto him by his homemade suit, before spinning on her heels, still moving quickly, and let go of him, sending him spinning and spiraling across the room and crashing through the wall on the other side. Shrugging her shoulders and cracking her neck, Calea continued, her eyes locking on Diana and Arthur next.

Diana took a deep breath, not wanting to hurt her friend, but she knew she would be forced to defend herself against Calea's attack.

“I'm sorry.” She sighed, shaking her head.

“Not like you will be.” Calea hissed back, darkly.

Diana raised her hands to bring her gauntlets together, but Calea jumped forward, bounding over the space between them and grabbed Diana's wrists, yanking them apart and pulling Diana closer to her, while lifting her bent knee, driving it into Diana's stomach and knocking her back into Arthur. Victor tried sneaking up behind her, but her head snapped sideways, slapping her hand on his metal chest and stopping him, like a mac-truck smashing into a solid brick wall.

“Weak.” Calea growled in a voice that was not her own. “You were created from us, but you are weak, a failure. We do not abide by failure.” She sneered, pushing her hand harder into Victor's chest.

A burst of cold air hit Calea, Clark blowing a long stream of it over her, gaining her attention. She didn't react like she had the first time he blew his frost breath on her. Tossing Victor aside, Calea turned towards Clark and took a deep breath, sucking the icy air into herself, until Clark stopped. His eyes went wide as she let all that cold out through her nose, like the angry breath of a bull. She was completely unaffected by it, and everyone else's attempts to stop her.

“Kal-El.” She chuckled, her force still disembodied. “Last son of Krypton. Join us, reach the same level of power and potential your world has.”

Clark's brows creased and drew down over his eyes, a voice echoing in his head. 'The Mother Boxes exploit one's weakness.'

“I'm your weakness.” He whimpered, the reality punching him in the gut.

“That's right, Clark Kent.” She replied, grinning at him. “Almost six thousand years and the only weakness this Royal Prime Selian has is...you.” She threw her head back and laughed, the sound of it echoed. “Who needs Kryptonite, when we have Calea Stormborn to destroy you, and when she's done killing you, Superman, she will end up tearing herself apart, with the dark and painful memory of killing the alien she loves more than herself.”

The moment she finished the sentence, she was colliding with Clark, sending them both flying backwards. They tumbled to the ground, Clark managing to get the upper hand, pinning her down to the dirt, staring into her pure black eyes, like they were a pair of black holes.

“Fight this, Calea.” He growled between clenched teeth. “You are stronger than this.” He barked, slamming his fists on either sides of her head.

“I am stronger.” Calea hissed back, before striking Clark across the face with her elbow, sending him flying off of her, and got up, to advance on him.

“Hey!” A voice rang out, with three distinct, metallic bangs.

Calea turned, just in time to watch Arthur throw his trident at her, like a javelin. Tilting her head at it, she simply raised her hand and caught it, by the middle tang, then shifted her grasp on it. Holding it by the handle, she regarded the long weapon and twirled it, before grasping the handle in both hands, met Arthur's eye again, and snapped it over her knee, like a toothpick. Arthur's mouth dropped open as she tossed the two pieces to the ground, smiling smugly at him. Her attention now on Arthur, she forgot about Clark, but before she could reach him, something tight wrapped around her arm, tugging her sideways, making her growl in annoyance.

“You need to calm down.” Bruce said, tugging on her with his bat grapple again. “Remember why you're here.”

“This is so much worse than Pet Cemetery.” Barry wheezed, watching the two of them.

Growling, Calea wrapped her hand around the wire of the grapple and started pulling back. “I know why I am here, Bruce Wayne. Why are you?” She inquired, a murderous smirk on her face. “To die, I suppose.” She chuckled, reeling him in, his boots sliding in the dirt.

“Calea Stormborn of Selion.” Diana called from the other side, spinning her lasso above her head and flicking it out towards Calea. “This is not who you are.” She said, her lasso wrapping around Calea's waist, like a golden snake.

Calea groaned as the lasso squeezed around her middle and the power of the lasso whispered around the voices of the Mother Boxes. “No.” She growled, shaking her head, gripping the lasso with her other hand, pulling on both Bruce and Diana.

“Stop.” She barked, the light in her eyes faltering.

“Calea, you must fight this!” Clark called back to her, steadying himself on his feet.

“There has to be something we can do?” Arthur hissed, glaring down at his broken trident.

“I might be able to do something.” Victor replied, apprehensively. “I might be able to mentally merge with her and the Mother Boxes, we're all part of the same technology. If I can do that, I could help her through whatever mental turmoil they're putting her through.”

“Do it.” Clark implored him, watching Calea struggle.

“I'll need a charge.” Victor said, studying Calea. “She was able to click into them by the electrical charge she can naturally produce.”

“I might be able to reproduce the charge.” Barry chimed in, gulping. “I'll have to break my golden rule, but if I can run long enough and fast enough, I-I..I can do some pretty crazy things with the speed of light.” He explained to them, pressing his fingers into his eyes.

“Do it.” Bruce barked, gritting his teeth as his grip started to slip.

Clark snapped to Bruce, taking the grapple from him, owning his strength with Diana's to keep Calea in place. “Calea, you can fight this.” He growled, teeth gritted as he and Diana struggled to keep her restrained.

“Barry, you might wanna break that rule soon, she's only getting angrier and stronger.” Victor said, watching as Calea wrapped her hands around the wire of Bruce's grapple and the glowing strands of the Lasso, every muscle in her body tensing and flexing to yank Clark and Diana in towards her.

“Right.”

Barry nodded, took a deep breath, flexing his arms and legs, building a static charge, before dashing out of the nuclear tower and started zipping around the area in a wide circle, creating a barrier of blue and red as he succeeded in breaking the barrier. The harder Barry ran the harder it was for him to keep going, feeling the drag and pull of gravity, his feet slipping and struggling to keep traction on the ground.

“Victor!” He called out, trembling. “I've reached it.”

“All right!” Victor replied, readying himself behind Calea. “On one, Barry!”

Calea tried to twist around to swipe Victor away from her, but couldn't quite make it with Diana and Clark's hold onto her, making her growl and thrash with angry agitation. “No! She's ours!” She roared, planting her feet in the dirt, tensing and rolling her shoulders, a loud, almost deafening hum filling the concrete room, emanating from her.

“Three...Tw-”

“No!” Steppenwolf howled, jumping down from the walkway above as he watched them try to keep Calea restrained and attempting to break her free from the influence of the Mother Boxes. “You shall not stop us!” He boomed as he landed.

Steppenwolf swung his axe, striking Diana square in the chest and sending her flying backwards, breaking her grip on her lasso, and Calea. Smirking, Calea turned her head towards Clark and gripped the grapple wire in both hands and yanked as hard as she could. Clark tried digging in his heels, but the dirt and dust on the ground easily gave away, dragging him closer and closer to her.

“You can't hurt us, Kryptonian.” She hissed at him, as Clark raised a fist. “If you hurt us, you hurt her.” She taunted him, grinning and laughing at him.

Clark hesitated, it was true, whatever they did to stop the rampage the Mother Boxes had set Calea on, they would be harming her as well. He sighed and shook his head, knowing it was a double edged sword, hurting Calea and the Boxes stalling them with that fact.

“I have no qualms about that.”

“Ryder!” Bruce gasped, watching him stride over to Calea.

Ryder reached Calea and drove his fist into her stomach, doubling her over with the force. “I can't believe you'd be so stupid.” He scolded her.

Calea straightened up, her pitch black eyes narrowing at him, the markings on her body started to glow and the hum coming off of her only grew louder. Her arm shot out, striking Ryder in the chest and launching him backward, before advancing on him.

“Victor, I can't maintain this!” Barry's distorted voice warbled through the group's communications, his grasp on his speed slowing.

“We need to get her and Victor together.” Bruce said, watching Arthur and Diana try to help Ryder hold Calea off.

“I might be able to help.” Diana panted, grabbing her shield from the ground and dropped to a knee. “Victor get into position.” She told him, lifting her arm and slammed her gauntlet down on the edge of the shield, just as Victor lined up behind Calea.

The shockwave from Diana shoved Calea backwards, leaving deep trenches in the ground from her feet. Victor reached out for Calea as she was pushed back into him, giving Barry the signal to come as well, bringing his massive charge with him. Steppenwolf hissed as he saw what they were doing and tried to intercept them, but Clark put himself between them, Steppenwolf's axe connecting to Clark's shoulder, but it only made him chuckle, the sharp blade of the weapon not even leaving a mark on his regeneration suit.

“Not impressed.” He said, blowing a stream of icy cold breath over the axe, making it cold and brittle, then shattered it with a swift punch.

Steppenwolf gasped, taking several steps back as his axe crumbled to nothing. “No.” He mewled, blinking at his empty hands.

“You're too late.” Bruce added.

Victor's hand touched Calea's tense shoulder and a millisecond later, Barry's charged up hand touched Victor's own shoulder, a strong electric current passing from Barry's fingers and body, coursing through Victor and passing to Calea. It felt like a snap between Calea and Victor, both gasping at the sudden feeling, eyes wide as the two of them mentally became one, merging together.

Victor blinked, looking around at his new surroundings. He was some place he had never seen before and quickly understood it was another planet altogether. Scanning the area, Victor started off to the East of his current location, glancing up at the sky, a mix of midnight blue and black, the air was cool and sweet smelling, but a low humidity blanketed everything, had Victor been more human than Cyborg, he might have broken out into a light sweat as he moved through the tall, emerald green blades of grass and foliage, following an odd point of crystal blue light in the distance.

“Calea?” He called out, seeing her shadowy figure.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice replied, turning to face him, holding the shimmering light Victor had seen.

“Looking for you.” Victor replied, frowning at her. “What is that?” He asked, motioning to the glowing object.

Calea smiled down at her hands, caressing the smooth and silky petals. “It's a Moon Blossom.” She answered, lifting it to her nose and smiled at it, it was sweet and creamy, then held it out to Victor, who gently took it from her. “They only bloom on a full moon.” She told him, looking up at the mostly shield moon, through the leafy canopies above them.

“Dove!” A voice called out from the dark.

“It's all right.” Calea said, gently touching Victor's cool, metal arm. “Over here, Papa!” She called back, grinning. “It's my father.” She told him, chipper and excited as the tall figure of her father appeared between two trees, a bundle of Moon Blossoms in his arms.

“Who's this, Dove?” Calien asked, looking Victor over with a suspicious eye.

“This is my friend, Victor.” Calea explained to him, the smile never fading from her face. “I met him on Earth.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you.” Calien replied, the suspicion never left his voice and eyes.

“You as well, sir.” Victor answered, recognizing Calien's hostility towards him.

He had no doubt the Mother Boxes were projecting themselves as her parents and Calien's hostility was them trying to keep Victor from pulling Calea away from them. A rustling to their left produced Calea's mother, and Victor was struck by how much mother and daughter looked alike.

“Look, love! I found a large cluster of Moon Bloss--?” Solea started, a smile on her gorgeous face, but stopped seeing Victor, her eyes darkening.

“Victor, I'm a friend of your daughter's.” Victor told her, knowing that would be next.

“Are you?” Solea replied, lifting a brow at him.

“Yes, ma'am.” He nodded, trying to be respectful, so nothing happened.

“Do you want to pick Moon Blossoms with us?” Calea asked, smiling up at Victor.

Victor licked his lips and looked between the three of them, calculating his options. “Sure.” He nodded, meeting Calea's excited eye.

“Excellent.” Calea grinned, bouncing on her toes, then took his hand and followed her mother to where she found the cluster of flowers, Calien following behind them.

“Mama!” A small voice rang out.

“Hey, buddy!” Calea called back, dropping to a knee and opening her arms to the little boy running head on for her.

“Nana found a bunch of flowers!” He said, hugging her arms around his mother's neck.

“Did she?” Calea chuckled, hugging him back.

“Do you think we could take some back to Daddy?” He asked, looking into her eyes.

“Of course!” She nodded, letting him go. “He'll love them.”

“Yay!” He cheered, then ran back off to pick the glowing flowers with his grandparents.

“Who is that?” Victor asked as Calea stood, brushing dirt off her skirt.

“That's Eric.” Calea replied, smiling proudly at the little boy, watching him and her parents bond over the flowers.

“Who's his father?”

Calea laughed and grinned up at Victor. “Did you hit your head?” She asked, amused and concerned for her friend. “He's Clark's.”

“And where is Clark?”

“Back on Earth, silly boy.” She chided him, shaking her head. “Eric and I are here visiting my parents. You know Clark, he worries about being too far away from Earth, Superman has to watch over the Earthlings.”

Victor glanced at Eric, Solea and Calien, seeing them distracted, then took a hold of Calea's hand, staring deep into her eyes. “Calea, this isn't real.”

“What are you talking about?” She chuckled, her smile slightly faltering as she looked up at him. “Of course this is real.”

“No, Calea.” Victor shook his head at her. “The Mother Boxes are trying to trick you into thinking this is real, while in reality, you're destroying the League and Earth.” He tried explaining and convincing her. “This is a dream, Calea. The Boxes are showing you want you want, not what is real.”

“They’re showing you your dream to have your parents alive again, to have a life and family with Clark.”

“But, we destroyed the Boxes, years ago.” She shook her head at him, dread filling her. “Everything was put to rights.”

“It's a lie.” Victor spread his arms out, motioning all around them. “This is a lie! Steppenwolf killed your parents, he decimated all of Selion and it's people, leaving only you. Your son, Eric isn't real either. Maybe one day he can be, but it's not this day.”

Calea squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head and trembling. “No.” She whimpered, gulping. “No.”

“Yes, Calea.” He nodded, shoulders slumping as he watched her start to crumble.

“Then, what are you doing here? Why are you here? How are you here?”

“I came to help you.” Victor replied, tilting his head at her. “With the power of the Boxes and the Unity Key combined together inside of you, you've become incredibly strong. You've outmatched everyone on the League and opened the portal between Earth and Apokolips. Darkseid and his army of Para-Demons are on their way, and the only way to stop them, is for you to pull out of this lie the Boxes are feeding you, to keep you controlled and doing their bidding, or they and you will kill everyone.”

“Including Clark.” He added as a last ditch effort push.

“Calea, are you alright, love?” Solea asked, approaching her and Victor.

“What did you say to me, before you sent me to Earth with the Mother Boxes?” Calea asked her, opening her eyes.

Solea smiled at her daughter. “You know what I said, Dove.”

“I don't remember.” Calea replied, shaking her head, brow creasing. “Remind me, mama.” She cooed at her mother, sweetly.

“I told you, I loved you and I would miss you.” Solea replied, reaching out to gently caress Calea's cheek.

Calea tilted her head into the touch, sighing gently. “It's funny.” She whispered softly.

“What is, dove?” Her father cooed, stepping up beside her mother, Eric hugging his grandfather's leg.

Calea looked deep into her mother's eyes, eyes that mirrored her own. “That you have so much access to my life, my past memories, my present and my future, but you couldn't dig out something so apparently vital, that I only now understand.” She said, her eyes started to glow.

“'You are the bridge.'” She quoted the last words her mother ever said to her. “That is what she said to me, before I left, and I am the bridge, between Selians, Kryptonians and Humans, a bridge across the universes.”

“What has he poisoned your mind with?” Calien hissed, looking to Victor.

“The truth.” Victor replied, turning to face them.

Calea pressed her arms to her sides, wrists bent and palms facing the ground of grass and glowing Moon Blossoms. “I am done.” She hissed, bolts of electricity crackling up her arms, flashing between her fingers, her eyes glowing brighter than the flowers at her feet.

“Calea, honey?” Solea called to her, but her mother's voice was no longer her own, it was foreign and alien.

“I am tired of people telling me what I have to do, what I should do. What I can and should or shouldn't be. My whole life.” She growled, static filled the area around them, making the hairs on everyone's bodies stand on end.

“Not. Any. More!” Calea barked, as a massive surge of electricity and lightning pooled out of her palms and into the ground, electrocuting everything around her, the world around her blurred, like a pixelated glitch on a screen, everything, but Calea and Victor, the two real things in the simulation the Boxes had created around them.

“Look!” Barry called out, pointing to Calea and Victor.

Everyone looked to them, seeing the pulsing currents weave around Calea's body and affecting Victor's, the inky blackness of her eyes slowly changed into the bright blue color of her mighty power that resided inside of her.

“She's gonna blow.” Barry gulped, watching the tentacles of electricity surged out from her feet and across the ground to vanish.

Calea screamed out, a blue rippling wave rocketing out from her body, knocking the team and Steppenwolf backwards, before dropping to her knees, breathing heavily. Calea blinked several times, trying to clear her vision and shook her head, her mind felt like it was wrapped in thick cotton that had been statically charged. Her body was numb and tingly, but she could feel everything around her, hyper aware of the way everyone was breathing, their hearts beating like drums in her ears and against her skin, the chilly air, the smell of energy and lingering radiation in the air, the scent of blood, sweat and strong emotions plugging up her sinuses.

Coughing and clearing her throat, she stood, her equilibrium tilting and swaying as she accumulated and returned to normal, no longer under the control of the Mother Boxes, she was now in control of them. Creaking her neck and flexing her shoulders, Calea turned her attention to Steppenwolf as she pushed himself back up to his own feet.

“Steppenwolf.” She hissed, teeth bared at him.

“Impossible.” He hissed back, looking her over.

“Nothing is impossible with the Unity.” She replied, grinning at him, feeling the jitters of adrenaline and power course through her body, enjoying the rush it gave her. “I've waited five thousand years for this moment to happen.” She panted, licking her lips.

“And I'm going to enjoy it.” She laughed, the sound echoing, as she blinked across the gap between them, using the velocity to give weight to her punch as her knuckles connected to his face, sending him through the wall of the nuclear tower.

“Calea!” Clark shouted as she followed after him.

She looked towards Clark and grinned at him, then continued on, stalking after Steppenwolf. Bounding through the opening his body made, she found him still laying on the ground and grabbed his foot, spinning quickly on her heels and let him go, throwing him back through the tower wall, a section of it crumbling in his wake. As Steppenwolf fell from her last throw, Calea suddenly appeared above him, driving her feet down into his chest, causing him to slam into the ground and leave a massive crater around his landing.

“Jesus.” Bruce gasped, mouth hanging open. “She's almost, if not even stronger, than you now, Clark.” He commented, looking at his friend.

Clark half smiled at him and Calea, mesmerise by her new show of force and strength against Steppenwolf and Darkseid.

Jumping into the crater, Calea grabbed Steppenwolf and jumped up to the now unstable walkway where the portal to Apokolips was. Looking at each other, the League scrambled into joining her. Darkseid, DeSaad and all of their minions stared back at them. Calea tossed Steppenwolf down and looked straight into Darkseid's eyes.

“Darkseid!” She roared, pressing her foot down on Steppenwolf's ankle, keeping him in place and making him howl in pain. “Destroyer and Conqueror of worlds across the Universe.” She called out to him.

“Uxas.”

Darkseid growled, turning his glowing orange eyes on Calea, acknowledging her. “Selian.” His voice echoed back through the portal.

“Your uncle, your General and herald.” She applied even more pressure to Steppenwolf's ankle, the crunch of bone echoing in the air. “Your greatest betrayer, has failed you once again; once and for all.” She sneered down at Steppenwolf with deep disgust, bending down and picking him up by the metal fingers of his armor.

“Your stay on this plant has reached its end, Steppenwolf.” She hissed at him, seeing the League move restlessly from the corners of her eyes.

Smirking, Calea shoved Steppenwolf away, throwing him backwards towards the portal as Diana drew her sword from behind her and jumped into the air, letting out an Amazonian cry, before letting her sword slice through his outstretched neck, like a knife through butter. Steppenwolf's body fell to the floor and slid across the platform, stopping just short of the portal, while his head, his face permanently in an expression of shocked disbelief, kept going, crossing through the portal and skidding to a stop before Darkseid, who stopped it with his foot, crushing it under his mighty boot.

“Your attempt on this planet is null and void, Darkseid.” Calea told him, the League stepping up behind her, showing their support in her words and Earth. “You will never conquer Earth, so long as any, and all of us, live.” She told him, pushing her hands out in front of her, the portal blinking and wavering as she did.

“We will see, little Selian.” Darkseid rasped, just as Calea clapped her hands together and the portal collapsed, breaking the connection between Earth and Apokolips, for good.

Clark quickly wrapped his arms around Calea's waist as her knees wobbled and she started to go limp. “Are you all right?” He panted into her ear, chin resting on her shoulder as he hugged her against his chest.

“I'm fine.” She sighed back, head resting back against his chest. “Just spent a lot of energy.”

“That was fantastic, I mean...wow!” Barry giggled, glancing around, thrilled by the excitement and relieved that it was all over and everyone was alive. “You scared us. I literally thought you were going to erase us, like it was the Matrix or something.” He chattered, goodheartedly.

Bruce let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head and smirking. “Is this over?” He asked, looking to Calea.

“It's over.” She nodded, supporting herself now, but Clark's arm remained around her waist. “Unless Darkseid uses the old ways and commands his armada of ships to come traverse across the universe to knock on Earth's atmosphere.” She mostly quipped, but her voice held an edge of concern and worry that he would.

“Let's not think of that now.” Diana said, wiping Steppenwolf's blood off her sword's blade. “For now, we have a victory and should enjoy it.”

“I agree.” Arthur replied, then trained his eyes on Calea. “You broke my mother's Trident.” He informed her, holding up the two pieces.

“I am so sorry.” Calea frowned, surprised at her unruly behavior and hurt, that she had allowed the Boxes to take such control over her. “If there's any way I can repay the slight..”

“You paid for it already.” Arthur replied, glancing over at Steppenwolf's headless body.

“But, what about the Mother Boxes?” Barry asked, holding up a finger. “Where are they?”

“In me.” Calea replied. “They, the Father Box and Unity Key will reside inside of me.”

“Is that safe?” Bruce frowned, shaking his head.

“I'm one of the only people that can control and maintain their power.” She told them, flat out. “Other than Victor.” She turned to him, resting her hand on his arm. “Thank you.” She whispered softly. “Thank you, for righting me and showing me the truth.”

“What truth?” Clark frowned, blinking at her.

Calea touched his cheek with a trembling hand. “Don't worry about it.” She whispered, pushing up on her sore toes and kissed him, gently. “Everything is all right now, and that's what matters.” She told him, squeezing his bicep.

“I think Calea is right.” Diana spoke up. “It is clear that with the boxes as physical forms it's too risky and tempting for those seeking their power. If Calea can safely maintain and command them as she is now, then it's for the best.”

“We clearly saw what she can do, when she's controlling them.” Victor added, looking around with a lifted brow. “I think anyone would be mad if they tried taking her on.”

“Anyone is crazy for trying to take her on, with or without the Boxes.” Ryder's soft voice added behind them.

“We all would know that now.” Arthur laughed, feeling a sore spot on his back.

“What are you doing here?” Calea asked, surprised to see Ryder decided to fight among the League after the initial regret of introducing her to the others in the first place.

“You think I would pass up the opportunity to get in a good old fashioned fight?” He chucked at her. “Not in a million years. Besides, I am a member of this world, have been as long as you have. So, what about Steppenwolf's body?” Ryder asked, surveying it.

Taking a deep breath, Clark let Calea go and approached the body, his eyes slowly glowing a bright, cherry red, before letting out two laser beams into Steppenwolf's disfigured body, setting it on fire. Within seconds, there was nothing left of Steppenwolf's body, but a black charred spot on the concrete walkway.

“Well, that solves that problem.” Ryder commented, chuckling as he looked around the group. “Do we have any other reason to be here?” He asked, meeting everyone's eyes.

“No.” Clark shook his head, looking around at the group too.

“Back to the Hall?” Barry asked, biting his lip.

“Yes.” Bruce nodded, feeling the soreness of battle creeping into his body.

With that, the aching and exhausted members of the League set about getting back to the Hall the best way they could and focused on healing and recovering from the third battle and war for Earth.

It was almost a month after the battle and most things had returned to normal.

Barry got a job, with the help and connections of Bruce, in a crime lab; it was a low position, but it would hopefully become something more as time passed and he gained experience and a reputation in the field.

Diana returned to her job as a museum curator at the Louvre, in Paris.

Bruce returned to his nightly crime fighting as Batman in Gotham and running his various businesses.

Victor worked on becoming more comfortable about what he had been turned into after the accident that had technically killed him and had actually took his mother's life, helping people in various ways, and even accepted a job in Star Labs.

Arthur went back to being a, supposed, lone wolf, but helped people that were in danger at sea and on land. He was even able to have his mother's trident fixed back in Atlantis, Vulko have his tricks and Atlantean Technology.

Clark returned to the Daily Planet, working on his journalism and stories for the paper, Perry mostly assigning him to sports related articles, much to his chagrin and annoyance, while still being the glorious and loved Superman; saving people from burning buildings, floods, earthquakes and every other manners of danger.

As for Calea, with the help of Bruce and his money and influence, became a World History Professor at Metropolis University, while she also worked on getting a proper History degree, being both the teacher and the student. Luckily, Calea had five thousand years of historical knowledge, knowing things not even the absolute best scholars knew about various events that happened on Earth and in the Human's timeline.

Even Ryder got a job, working in Wayne Electronics, helping Bruce and his company create and maintain their current technology and come up with new ones, showing them many of the technological wonders of alien advancement.

Each of the members of the Justice League made sure to carry a small beeper-like device on them, so in a moment's notice, they could come together and face whatever it was, usually being set off by Alfred, who was always watchful. But, the biggest turn of events and development happened in the middle of the night in Clark and Calea's new apartment that they had found in Central Metropolis, close to both the university and the Daily Planet.

It was a quite night in Metropolis, minus the noise of the traffic on the street below their bedroom window, but Clark and Calea had long learned how to ignore such things. They were spooned together under the light blankets of their bed, when suddenly, in the still quiet of their room, a thump sounded.

At first, neither of them acknowledged the sound, figuring it to be something on the street below or the neighbor to the side of them. But, when it came again, stronger and more steady, Clark stirred from his sleep, blue eyes searching for a moment, then felt it against the palm of his hand, becoming steady, strong and rhythmic. Calea's eyes popped open, finally recognizing the sound for what it was and turned onto her back; Clark's palm glued to her lean stomach.

“Clark?” She whispered softly, not wanting to drown out the sound with her voice.

“Calea.” He smiled back, an excited giddiness filling him with each strong beat of the tiny thing nestled inside of her. “A baby.” He whispered, shifting and laying his head on her stomach, his eyes closing.

“Our baby.”

“Our baby.” Calea cooed back, stroking his hair and closing her own eyes, listening to the almost synced beats of all three of their hearts together, in their dark and peaceful sanctuary. “Our son.”

Clark turned his head, keeping an ear on her stomach. “You think, we'll have a boy?” He asked, grinning like mad, already thrilled about the idea of being a father.

“I know we'll have a boy.” She replied, caressing the side of his face. “I've seen it so many times over the last several months. Between my dreams and the Boxes...”

“You've seen this?” He asked, his brow creasing.

“I did.” She nodded, touching the pad of her index and middle fingers to his creased brow, caressing it smooth again. “I didn't say anything, because it didn't necessarily mean it'll happen. I saw a lot of things in those moments that haven't and didn't happen.”

“Why did you never tell me?” Clark pressed, concerned.

“I didn't want to worry you about such nonsense, Clark.” She told him, honestly, her own brow creasing. “You worry about me too much already.”

“Well, apparently this isn't nonsense, Calea.” He replied, turning his head and kissing her belly.

“No.” She sighed, smiling and chuckling softly. “He certainly is not.”

“What else about him did you see?” Clark asked, curiously.

“He looks just like you.” She told him, bring up the image of the little boy. “We named him, Eric Jonathan.”

Clark smiled, warmed at the tribute to his adoptive father. “I like it.” He whispered, eyes gently closing, lulled by the sound of their hearts.

Both of them fell asleep like that, Clark's head pillowed on Calea's stomach, her hand still in his soft curls, thumb stroking them mindlessly, and eight and a half months later, Calea birthed their beautiful baby boy.

“You certainly have some strong seed.” Arthur quipped as she and Clark took their newborn to the Hall of Justice to meet everybody. “Getting her pregnant the very first shot.”

“It helps, when my womb certainly doesn't have any Kryptonite in it.” Calea gibed back at him, gently bouncing the baby in her arms as he fussed. “Clark and I are the bridge between our worlds and this one, and our son is the first to cross it.” She said, staring into Eric's sweet face.

“Hopefully, there will be more.” Clark replied, kissing Calea's cheek and resting a gentle hand on Eric, hinting at more than one thing.

-- END --

[af1899]

FEH - Finally got the first merge on Hoshidan Summer Micaiah + appreciation post

With [Hall of Forms] now finished and all the rewards obtained, I can now rest at ease forgetting it, so I went to [Forging Bonds] and just got the last [Divine Codes: Ephemera 8] to give Micaiah her well earned merge, and here it is, her RES bane is no more.

While I don't see her often in [AR-D], I've come to understand why she's a good option here: she fills a very unique niche as a refresher with min-maxed attack and resistance that deals effective damage on armored and cavalry units, she aged really well as a unit despite her having one of the lowest BST values of her class but her refine will eventually come out and make her outstanding, I'll wait for it before I invest too much in her.

Anyway, this is not what I appreciate Micaiah, so I'll tell you a little story below and sum up my reasons, there'll be minor spoiler warnings and it's a tad too extensive but I hope you'll find it an interesting read if you do look on it.

I've known about her ever since I started to play Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn after I got my black Wii back in 2015 for my birthday and unlocked it to sideload USB games some time after, but it took me a little to feel like trying it and get it running, I used to be a guy that just trained whoever seemed likeable enough from looks so that I could get on, not as attentive with the plot of every game I play as I am now, but I've started to change that around the time I've started Final Fantasy VIII on the second half of 2019, a game that was truly legendary and emotional Imo.

This is more or less how I've come to known her, but I want to share what sparked interest on me for her:

It took me exactly two weeks to realize I wanted her so badly, it helped that when Lilina was announced, I'd need a [Feh Pass] subscription for just this month, and I got it with help from a friend, to date, I'm still grateful to that user for the support and for us to continue upholding a strong bond.

In any case, when the time came, I realized how charming this skin was, it's one of the best we've gotten, the Hel thematic looks wonderful on her (what a delightful blend of colors and precise styling by Sachie, same person that made the art for Legendary Julia and Sara, yes, more favs 💜) and the art is overall just too good but the best piece out of the four is the normal one I think, and I'll explain why while covering my favorite part of character talking: personality.

Micaiah is a kind and caring girl towards those she holds dear, specially the people of the country she eventually leads as a queen: Daein, located in the Tellius continent.

«I don't really like crowds. Sometimes, I sneak off to the forest to catch a break. I'm guessing the guiding hand of this army might need a break, too!»

— Micaiah: Priestess of Dawn, Fire Emblem Heroes.

She also has a bit of a bitter side but that's not how she normally comes off, yet, this doesn't come out without a reason, she was born a Branded (a human born from a human and laguz unity that end up getting a special power and an irremovable brand somewhere in their body, highly discriminated in Tellius), she had to hide her brand to anyone but her closest friends like Sothe so that she's not mistreated.

She's highly capable of selflessness, symbolized through that power she's gotten: [Sacrifice], it heals the target's wounds at the cost of her life force, she can recover just fine, but it exhausts her in return. This has allowed her to heal without staves and get the recognition from her people in Daein, like when she was first fleeing Begnion forces in Nevassa (capital city of Daein) while repelling bandit attacks, the citizens blocked the path when Micaiah and the Dawn Brigade (it's a group she leads to liberate her country) flee, but before she could escape, she sensed danger, and spotted a young guy being hurt from an arrow a Begnion soldier shot to a child named Nico, who would remember Micaiah's act of kindness for nursing him back to health almost instantly.

There were some times in which Micaiah also had to make really tough decisions, for example: Ike's army was tasked by Apostle Sanaki of Begnion to escort her to her country as they were trying to uncover the vile senate's acts, they had to pass through Daein territory, but because of a [Blood Pact] (a contract that enforces its signer's obedience to avoid a greater catastrophe) that Pelleas (that's the former king of Daein's son) signed under the false pretention that was a peace treaty the senate proposed. Micaiah had to hinder Ike's army advancement to see if she can trick the Begnion senate so she sent her soldiers to fight for that... she wanted to give time to Pelleas so that he could find a way to remove the effects from the [Blood Pact], as they couldn't just be removed normally. She had to make those sacrifices all because of a contract, and she couldn't even just tell Ike that she was forced to follow orders, the attacks from Daein forces didn't make much sense to him naturally. It was her people or her soldiers, so she had to make such decisions that tested her willpower, yet she's strong at heart and carried out with the orders she was given.

In Fire Emblem Heroes, she doesn't talk much about those events, but that's because she wishes to be free from the chains of past days, even if for a moment, she shows a friendly personality towards the Summoner and still being herself. She became queen of Daein and led her people to an age of prosperity, welcoming both laguz and human alike.

Now, all this and more things you'd learn as you play Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn (or may remember from your playthroughs) show how strongly developed and compelling she is as a character, there's a lot going in her life and she lived many difficult moments, yet she got through and grew into a kind and strong-willed woman, she truly impressed me, and I think she's truly pretty, like, I mean:

(Artwork from Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn Memorial Book Tellius Recollection: The Second Volume)

I won't deny that the Resplendent skin is magnificent and gave me the last push-up to play her home game after a long time and learn more about her, but I could see what kind of character she is and what makes her truly special... true, she's not my "best girl" (see PFP) but I still hold her dear as if she was almost high up there. And it's said that "nothing beats the original", so I certainly love her original design.

Here's a little showcase of the other two variants of her I have, I'm missing only her Bridal alt and the possible Legendary one coming later in this month, but here are them:

I love all her official art and how it manages to bring out her friendliness and tender side.

I'm so glad that so far, I've lucked out well with her IVs save her Hoshidan Summer alt, and she appeared randomly when pulling for others most of the time, so it's great to have her now, even as-is.

Her Brave variant from 2019 should be getting a refine next month or any time for the remainder of 2021, I know it'll be good but I would already love to know what it'll do before I give her anything else.

...

And here ends my appreciation post and optional read, if you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading, it means a lot to me if you've come to enjoy it.

[bcdrawsandwrites]

For Unity by @jaywings and me

Rating: T Genre: Friendship, Angst Characters: urGoh, skekGra, skekSil, skekSo, skekTek, skekVar, urVa, urSu, urSol, urZah, possibly others… Warnings: A LOT OF VIOLENCE. Description: One was as vile and repulsive as his brethren. He murdered, and maimed, and reveled in it. The other was as slow and indirect as the rest of his brethren. He hated his dark half as much as the others did theirs. But who they were did not matter, for Thra saw its moment, and seized its opportunity. Beta Reader: ThePrairieNerd

—~~~—

Chapter 8: One, That Became Two, That Became One Again Summary: In which the Wanderer takes the first steps.

—~~~—

His hand was empty.

As he made his way through the Dark Forest, guided only by the light of the Sisters, urGoh found himself rubbing his thumb over his calloused palm repeatedly; the shard he'd carried for only a few days had felt almost like a companion to him. And yet it had shattered beneath his fingers, leaving nothing but sparkling dust in his hand—gone in a mere moment.

And what a strange moment it was.

The shared memory threatened to return, but urGoh pushed it aside. Dwelling on it would do nothing but fill him with an unhelpful, unreachable ache of longing. Instead he focused on the absence of the crystal shard, reflecting on just why it had taken that exact moment to shatter. Had the connection he'd felt extended to the shard, and corrupted it, causing it to break? Or... had the shard served its purpose?

The more urGoh thought of it, the more it seemed to be the latter, and the more unsettled he felt.

It wanted them to unify. Not just the tiny shard—the Crystal. All of Thra. A Mystic uniting with a Skeksis... who ever thought of such a thing?

The idea of working alongside the Conqueror was not something that brought urGoh any comfort, no matter how Thra urged them to. He would, he would certainly try, but he did sometimes question the wisdom of this world. After all, could a creature who had killed so many others truly decide to stop within a matter of days? Could such a monster actually change his ways, and so quickly?

"You better... have a good idea... of what... you're making us... do," he grunted to a passing tree, which merely shuffled its roots in response. "This meeting could end... very badly."

The idea of a Skeksis conversing with a Mystic was absurd to begin with, but to willingly bring the most vile of their kind so close to the Valley to meet again? What a terrible idea! Why had he agreed to this?

But at the same time... he couldn’t shake this feeling—that moment, when they both recalled the same campfire, with the same Gelfling telling the same story, because they...

The sudden ache in his chest made him stumble, and he shook his head, keeping his gaze trained forward. No—he couldn't keep rethinking this. His path had been decided, and there was no turning back now.

As urGoh walked, the first rising sun cast strange, flickering shadows in the trees, winking in and out of view and slipping through the leaves as though they were following him. One shadow broke away from the rest, twining serpentlike partway down the trunk of a tree before a shape landed in front of him with a thump. UrGoh backed up a step, squinting hard.

The first Brother was at his eye-line, and he could not see the figure that confronted him, save for a looming, spiked silhouette. For a heart-stopping moment he thought it was skekGra, having changed his mind and abandoned all sense, returning to attack him again.

“A plod-stomping urRu,” the figure rasped in a low voice. “In the Dark Wood.”

It had to be a Skeksis, but urGoh didn’t immediately recognize it. Sunlight glinted off the edge of a wicked dagger it gripped in its claw.

UrGoh raised a hand to block the light and attempted to duck to one side in order to clear his vision, but the creature simply moved with him with a fluidity that he did not expect.

“This looks like valuable pickings,” it went on. “A Mystic’s floundering tongue would be the trophy of trophies. And the head of a Skeksis would come freely with no miserable squabbling.”

“You are… bluffing,” urGoh said. No Skeksis would purposely bring harm to another Skeksis, surely? Especially by attacking their Mystic counterpart. They seemed to prefer open confrontation.

A beaked, reptilian head was suddenly thrust in his face, eyes narrowed under a mask made from the skull of some unfortunate creature.

“Am I?” the Skeksis spat.

UrGoh shuffled backwards, his tail dragging through the leaves, still trying to get a good look at his aggressor. The mask had revealed the exact identity of this Skeksis, though it was someone he’d never met—nor, truthfully, had wanted to meet.

“How did you… know I was here?” he asked, hesitantly. Had this creature caught sight of skekGra?

The Hunter hissed through jagged fangs. “I followed your lumbering footsteps for miles. The blundering Mystic disturbed the rakkida pack I was tracking.”

“Oh. I am… sorry,” urGoh said uncertainly. He didn’t have much love for rakkida, vicious as they could be, though the thought of more deaths attributed to the Skeksis gave his stomach a sickening lurch. “Perhaps if you go after them now… you will find them again.”

“But they’re no longer a worthy prize,” the Hunter sneered. “They were scared off by a Mystic.”

He lunged suddenly, faster than urGoh could have prepared for, but withdrew with a snarl almost within the same second. A large arrow had sprouted from the ground at his feet.

“Leave this place, skekMal,” the deep, resonant voice of the Archer rang out, as the Mystic stepped into view. He had strung his towering bow, another arrow nocked loosely in the string but not yet pulled taut. “The forest is not yours to command, much as you think it is.”

The Skeksis clicked his teeth. “All who trespass into the Endless Forest beyond their piddly settlements invite death from the shadows.”

“I see no shadows,” urVa growled. “You stand in the light of day.”

UrGoh could see a shadow, however: the one standing before them, cloaked in death.

As they were speaking, the sun had risen higher, now leaving the Hunter in plain view. He stood up straighter, rattling the morbid trophies that hung from his belt—skulls and pieces taken from previous victims that urGoh did not immediately recognize, and he tried to look away, for fear he eventually would.

"I am a Lord of the Crystal, and master of these woods, in light or in darkness," skekMal snarled. "I can hunt what I wish, whenever I wish, hidden or not!"

"I see." UrVa returned his arrow and unstrung his bow. Then, his eyes always upon the Hunter, he marched forward until he had situated himself between skekMal and urGoh. He lifted his head, a challenging gaze piercing his other half's eyes. "Hunt me, then."

For a long moment, the three of them stood silently, skekMal and urVa both eerily still, each a corrupted reflection of the other. Only urGoh moved, glancing back and forth between the two, wondering which of them was truly mad enough to make the first move.

SkekMal suddenly lunged his head forward, letting out a vicious howl, and charged. While urGoh cringed back, urVa stood his ground, and the Skeksis bolted in a wide arc around them, rushing into the depths of the Dark Forest. UrGoh kept an eye on him until his form melted into the trees, while urVa regarded the situation with an almost detached calmness. Finally the Archer turned away, his long bow thudding against the soft ground as he moved on without comment.

"Um... thank you," urGoh said, blinking and trailing after urVa. "I wasn't sure... what would happen there."

"SkekMal is a dangerous creature," urVa said plainly. "His actions can be unpredictable, even among the Skeksis… But even he would not be fool enough to attack..."

UrGoh waited for him to finish; when he did not, he merely followed, keeping an eye on the path ahead.

"You have been wounded," the Archer said suddenly, and urGoh gingerly touched the scratches on his snout.

"My... other half," he mumbled, and urVa gave a quiet hum. They walked in silence for a few minutes longer. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but nor was it much of a companionable one, and it inescapably put him in mind of their previous journey toward the Valley together. It felt like countless trine ago. Had it really been only a few days?

"For what reason do you take the path through this forest, urGoh?" urVa asked.

"Hm. Other than... my being... a Wanderer?" UrGoh slowly turned his head, giving his companion a wry smile. But urVa did not spare him another glance; he didn't seem to be in such good humor this morning, and urGoh sighed. "I am... returning... to the Valley."

UrVa stopped, lifting his head as he faced urGoh at last. "Again? Your wandering path rarely leads you home. What brings you back this time?"

Glancing back the way skekMal had fled, urGoh frowned. "I have... something important... to discuss with urSu."

"A better conversation would be had with the mountainside."

UrGoh cast his gaze downward. "Perhaps. But... even a mountain may eventually give in... if it is worn down enough, or if something large... should impact it."

"Hmm." The Archer closed his eyes. "I see you are still concerned with the plight of the Gruenaks. If the Master has already given his verdict on the subject, I fear nothing but the voice of Thra itself may change his mind, my friend.”

“The Gruenak devastation… has… passed.” UrGoh could not keep the bitterness from his voice. “I return with… a different matter.”

Briefly urGoh considered telling everything, and glanced down at the forest floor to contemplate his words. But the light cast by the first brother upon urVa created a looming, dark shadow behind him, and he shuddered. No. He could not speak here.

"I see." For the first time that morning, a smile crossed urVa's muzzle. "I am keen to see what you believe can move a mountain."

"As... am I." UrGoh blinked. The Archer’s wording had struck him. “You wish… to join me?”

“I will. Perhaps it is now time I returned to the others, as well,” urVa said. “But please… no poetry.”

“No,” urGoh said mournfully. “I… lost it all… in an unintended swim.”

“Ah. That is certainly a shame.”

The two resumed their journey, urGoh confident in knowing that it would not split at the Valley entrance this time. He felt that a weight had been lifted from his shoulders—but was almost immediately replaced by another one as the enormity of his task set in. The thought of trusting any Skeksis was still a rather foreign concept to him. How in Thra’s name might his brethren be convinced?

—~~~—

He looked like an idiot.

He certainly felt like an idiot, especially among the other Skeksis who probably hadn't set foot outside the Castle in who knows how many trine. SkekGra was uncomfortably aware of the mud on his claws, ashes on his armor, the cuts on his face, and the myriad of twigs and leaves clinging to his robes. He could feel the burn of their stares. Would there be a time when he wouldn't traipse back to the castle drenched in all manner of filth?

SkekGra had hoped to return unnoticed, but he should have known otherwise. It was getting too late in the day, and the castle was far too busy. He managed to climb back up through the catacombs unnoticed, but was spotted by guards as soon as he reached the first of the more populated floors of the castle. Now he could only trudge through the cold stone halls like a Podling before the Deturge and hope he wouldn't be questioned.

And also, once again, to make the choice between food or sleep. His cramping stomach suggested which one should take priority. Hastily, he brushed off the worst of the grime and headed for the Banquet Hall.

"So... the murdering scourge of Thra... is afraid of me..."

The deep, slow voice, the chirping of desert insects, and the crackling of a fire echoed in his head.

"The Crystal is fractured... It felt like pain, emptiness, incompleteness... Have you not thought... that it needed to be healed?"

An image of the great Crystal, once a pure, shining white, now bled a deep violet. The memory of the Crystal of Truth dragged down to the Scientist's lab in heavy metal claws, pulsing against the cruel restraints.

"It never occurred to me..."

Someone prodded at his side, hard, and he picked up an urgent, whispered, "Lord Skeksis-ah!"

SkekGra jerked upright, blinking in alarm, his warrior's instinct fighting to take in every aspect of his surroundings. He was seated at his place at the banquet table. Several Skeksis around him were croaking with laughter. There was an upturned bowl of soup in front of him. And his face was dripping.

A Podling face looked up at him anxiously—the one who had poked him awake, no doubt. SkekGra waved him away, heart shriveling slightly in embarrassment as he mopped up his face with a dry part of the tablecloth. Irritably he noticed the others were still cackling. What were they laughing about? He could do an entire series of paintings about the stupid things each and every one of them had done. And whom at this table hadn't ever buried their face in a bowl of soup?

Too bad his own stupidity seemed to be coming more frequently as of late.

After shaking off the mortification, shoving some amount of food in his mouth, and regaining some strength in his limbs, it was of course time to attend the Ceremony of the Sun once again. He stood at his place in the circle, his gaze unwavering, letting strength flow into him that he knew was never theirs to take, and spoke to no one. He did not catch skekTek's eye, ignored any jeers presented by the others, their own insults forgotten as soon as they garnered no response.

"Lord Conqueror!"

A voice called out to him in the corridor as he made his way to his chambers, and he finally stopped, looking down to see a Vapran Gelfling rush up to him. He gave a start as he recognized this one.

"Conall," he greeted, the name slipping out before he even realized that he knew what it was. Strange... he'd never cared much about learning their names.

The Gelfling dipped forward in a bow as he reached him. "My lord, I've just returned from the battalion of Gelfling sent back to the Caves of Grot to rout out the Gruenak stragglers. They told me that no one had reported to you about it, so I immediately sought you out. We..." He swallowed nervously, as though unsure how skekGra would take his next words. "We- we didn't find anything, my lord. And the Grottans swore that they had offered no further protection to the traitors."

Again, the voice returned to his mind: "You spared two. Two of the hundreds... that fell by your swords."

He swiped his tongue over his jaws, and gave his response in almost a trance. “Let them escape…” he muttered.

Maybe they did escape, he thought. Maybe they left those foul caves and found a place to settle, far from conflict.

The Vapran, meanwhile, quailed away from him, face paling and ears flicking back. "N-no, my lord, we did not intend to, but we had orders from Emperor skekSo to return. I'm so sorry, my lord. We won't give up. Every time we're sent out again, we'll keep a watch for them. We'll track them down eventually, and make them pay for eluding the army of the Castle of the Crystal!"

SkekGra's stomach wrenched. "Yes. See that you do."

“And I… I wanted to warn you, my lord…” the Gelfling wrung his hands. “The guards have been saying strange things. Things… about you.”

SkekGra gave a sniff. “I think I can handle a few Gelfling rumors. Now, attend to your duties, Vapran.”

He took his leave from the young guard and, in a haze, found his quarters and loomed in the doorway like a dark shadow.

Oh, Thra, it was a disaster in here. Someone would have to take care of this.

He crossed into the room, placed his weapons carefully beside his wardrobe, and promptly turned to collapse face-first onto his bed.

"You feel... guilty, Conqueror."

Another sickening lurch to his insides.

Vaguely he grasped at the tattered wish for a sleep with no dreams, no visions, no haunted words, no drowning Mystic idiots or cries from the Crystal to rip him from unconsciousness. He wasn't built for this nonsense.

Oh. And I promised another meeting with the Wanderer in some Thra-forsaken corner just outside the Dark Wood.

Eyes tightly closed, his tongue snapped a sharp curse and one fist beat against his bedcovers. When had this become his life?

—~~~—

It was the phrase that skekGra fell asleep to, and blearily woke several hours later with it still running through his mind. He pushed himself to his feet, and finally exchanged his sodden robes for clean ones—the others had been through a lot, he noted, as he laid the forlorn-looking clothes out flat on the bed—and sheathed his weapons back in their proper places before strolling from the room.

Not wanting to have to navigate another conversation or lecture from anyone this time, he took back ways around the Castle, slipping unseen into the Scrollkeeper's library to swipe a map, and then retreating down through the catacombs to undergo another unpleasant crawl out through the Teeth of Skreesh.

An unexpected scent hit his nostrils before he reached the way out, however, and he tensed. Gelfling? He could have sworn he caught a hint of stale Gelfling scent. But that was impossible—Gelfling had always been forbidden from coming down here. Anyone who broke that rule would be thrown from the Castle, along with any members of their family, and with such a black mark on their record would likely never be able to find civilized work again.

He shoved the matter aside and continued on his way.

It would be nice, he thought, to not have to leave the castle like this again. But at least it was secretive, as no one considered that anyone in their right mind would use this path.

"It's been a long time since I've been in my right mind," he muttered, swatting a dangling branch out of his face. Consulting the map he'd borrowed, he pinpointed the unlikely spot for the Wanderer's planned meeting with whatever Mystic he could drag out of its hole, and started off on a path southeast from the Castle.

Was he ready to meet another Mystic?

His teeth clicked. The tips of his fingers twitched. There was a prickling at his back as his spines rose.

He didn't fear the Mystics. What was to fear? The Wanderer himself had stated that anger was not natural to them. And aside the Hunter's strange counterpart, he doubted that they even had a concept of weaponry.

It was the wrongness of it all that unsettled him so. The knowledge that he would have to look into some creature's beady eyes and see the distorted, meandering reflection of someone he knew. Which one would it be?

And why did he dread this decision more with every step?

—-~~~—-

The third Brother barely broke over the horizon as urGoh and urVa neared the Valley. The Archer paused as they drew closer, and for a moment urGoh feared he would turn away again.

However, urGoh quickly spotted the reason for it, and could only stare as urSol the Chanter approached them along the trail, stopping in front of them.

“...Chanter,” urGoh said, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. “You have… left the Valley.”

UrSol inclined his head, a slight smile on his face. “I have taken four steps beyond the border. Hardly a long trip when compared to the Wanderer.” He looked up, his eyes shadowed. “Did you find what you were looking for, urGoh?”

UrGoh paused, his neck dipping slightly as though weighed down.

“...No,” he said after a moment. The Chanter blinked in sympathy, and urGoh went on. “But I did find… something else.”

UrSol's gaze turned to urVa, regarding him with a tipped head. "You found... the Archer."

"...Yes," urGoh said. "But that is... not all. I must speak... with urSu."

At that, the Chanter heaved a sigh. "I may speak in many voices... but none of them can reach Master urSu." Yet he smiled at urGoh, and continued, "But that does not mean the Wanderer will not succeed." With that, he resumed his original course, passing the other two Mystics and heading up and away from the Valley.

Though urGoh knew he could not delay long, curiosity overcame him and he turned to face the Chanter. "Where do you... go?"

"To seek new songs outside the Valley," the other said without turning around. "And new company. But I will not be gone long. Perhaps a few trine."

"Avoid the forest," urVa said, eyeing urSol seriously. "No song is worth an encounter with the monster that lurks there."

UrSol paused. "I fear not the shadows," he said, and did not stop again.

With the departure of the third Mystic, the two made their way further into the Valley, watching as the slow life of their fellows went on as usual. UrZah the Ritual Guardian did not look up from his sand painting, though the Weaver waved in greeting as urGoh and urVa passed by. While urGoh was glad to see the other urRu again, his mind dwelled on other matters. "Where... do you suppose..." he began, but trailed off when he saw the Archer had stopped. UrVa's gaze was turned upward, and urGoh followed it, blinking in surprise.

UrSu stood on the ledge above them, regarding him with an expression urGoh could not read.

"Wanderer," he said. "You rarely return home without purpose." He did not question urVa's presence, and urGoh's mane prickled.

"I have come... to show you something," urGoh said. "Something... of great importance..."

"And what have you brought to our Valley?" urSu asked.

"I did not bring—" urGoh nearly said “him,” but caught himself just in time, "—the… important thing... with me. You must come with me... beyond the Valley."

The Archer snapped his head toward urGoh alarmingly fast, eyes wide. Every other urRu within listening distance did the same, their heads raised and snouts pointed almost accusingly at urGoh. UrVa opened his mouth to speak, but urSu was faster.

"It is one thing for other urRu to leave the Valley," he said. UrSu's gaze had an uncharacteristic hardness to it. "I have permitted some to leave... against all counseling, whether from clouded judgment and dissatisfaction, seeking perpetual solitude, or a futile wanderlust… the Storyteller, the Swimmer, and the Monk, passed beyond our sight... the Archer, living alone, the Peacemaker… the Chanter, ever guided by his ill-formed emotions, storming off after another argument… And to say nothing of you, Wanderer, as it’s in your very name.” His gaze never left urGoh. "But to ask for me to pass beyond the Valley’s borders…”

"He would be killed," urVa said plainly. "A Skeksis would surely seek him and swiftly kill him. To take his power."

UrGoh looked him in the eye. "But you... have faced your own dark half, and driven him away."

The Archer regarded him for a moment before humming and turning aside.

"Master urSu," urGoh went on, facing his leader again. "This is of... vital importance. Thra itself... demands it."

UrSu heaved a long sigh through his nostrils. "Thra has not spoken to me of such things."

"Thra... has spoken... to me."

The Valley went still. Without looking, urGoh knew the others were staring at him, and he knew how absurd his claim sounded. But he continued to stare into urSu's eyes, his own gaze serious, pleading. If urSu would not at least see what he was going to propose, there was no hope of his ever listening.

The Master returned his gaze for an agonizingly long moment, and urGoh held his breath. But slowly, slowly urSu turned away, his heavy steps plodding across the wooden walkway. Heart suddenly heavy, urGoh lowered his head, shutting his eyes against the sheer frustration and sadness welling up within him.

A better conversation would be had with the mountainside, indeed.

"Show me, then."

Straightening, urGoh spun around as quickly as he could, almost falling over himself, to find urSu watching him again and leaning heavily on his staff.

"Show me what Thra has shown you, that it has kept secret from me."

UrGoh blinked stupidly, his mouth falling open and throat producing no sound.

"Then I want to see as well," urVa said somberly, shifting the walking stick that doubled as his bow. "Lead the way, Wanderer."

The knot in his chest loosened itself a little, the burden easing, and urGoh nodded. "Yes... right... away."

—~~~—

What was he doing?

Every step brought deep dread seeping back into his bones, displacing the relief he’d felt, his jaw set with his teeth clenched together.

Not one of them spoke. The calm camaraderie that urGoh had felt with urVa on the trek back to the Valley had vanished, replaced by a cold fragility, three slow-moving figures set on a single destination, all lost in their own reveries and none too happy to be going.

This was a mistake. The thought wound itself through urGoh’s head and felt heavy on his tongue, as though desperate to be spoken aloud to send the others home. He glanced behind him to see urVa’s face set in grim determination, his eyes slowly roving from side to side as though to watch for threats. UrSu by contrast had his gaze set straight ahead, watching neither urVa, urGoh, or their surroundings for that matter.

This was a mistake. I am leading both of them into a Skeksis trap.

UrGoh slowly shook his head, tossing out his mane. A trap? No. SkekGra could not restrain and capture three Mystics at once, particularly when one of them was the Archer. And he certainly couldn’t kill them without harming himself, along with a highly revered and feared Skeksis in the Hunter, and his own Emperor.

Unless the death of Emperor skekSo was the point.

UrGoh glanced again at urSu, with urVa following in his wake. This was why the Archer had come along—to grant the Master all the protection he could offer. But skekGra did not even know that urGoh had planned to bring urSu to the meeting place. UrGoh hadn’t told him.

“And he’s… changed,” urGoh said aloud, as though speaking the words might make him believe them.

“What did you say?” the Archer said evenly. UrSu said nothing.

“I said… so much... has changed,” urGoh said, his fingers curling.

UrSu spoke up then, still gazing ahead. “Eternity does not change. The stars, the planets, they sweep across the sky in an endless rhythm. We are nothing to the great expanse of the universe, the creatures who dwell here even less so. Our lives are a whisper that makes no impact, until we are called to act by a mediator of the cosmos.” He tilted his head to look straight at urGoh. “So what is it, Wanderer, that you wanted to show us?”

The Master’s response had drawn the small party to a stop—uncannily close, urGoh realized, to the meeting spot he had set up with skekGra. UrGoh drew in a deep breath and slowly, slowly, turned to face the others.

“We are here,” he said simply.

“And there is something… waiting for us?” UrVa’s face had darkened, though his expression was not altogether readable.

UrGoh hesitated. “I am… not sure yet. I… will go check.”

He turned quickly to avoid the looks in their eyes and pushed through the bracken and curtain of leaves up ahead, coming to a stop when he reached a clearing and a strong, sour scent hit his nostrils.

The forest here was silent, as though nothing wanted to reveal its presence.

There was no doubt. SkekGra was here.

As he had this thought, a nearby branch shifted and suddenly the Conqueror was there, slipping out into the daylight, eyes bright and accusing. He tilted his head up, taking a sniff of the air. With a jolt urGoh remembered how much better senses of smell Skeksis had than most other creatures he knew—certainly better than Mystics.

“I thought you were bringing maybe one Mystic,” skekGra growled. “What kind of trickery is this? Was this a trap?”

UrGoh stretched his neck higher, looking the Skeksis straight in the eyes. “Those I have brought… fear a trap from you.”

The Conqueror went rigid, his eyes aflame with fury and horror. “How many others did you tell about me?!”

“None… yet.” He held unwavering eye contact. “I have told them… nothing. But we discussed... that we should share our revelations... with the Mystics. So I… have brought them.”

“What, all of them?” SkekGra shook his head hard. “We didn’t discuss anything! This was your idea, which you simply flung at me while I was in a hurry—”

UrGoh interrupted. “It is… time.”

Before he could change his mind, he turned and let out a low note from deep in his throat, the sound reverberating through the trees and causing the leaves to tremble. SkekGra cried out and flung his hands over his ears, baring his jagged fangs.

Before urGoh’s call had faded, urSu and urVa strode through the trees and stood behind him, the disheveled Skeksis in full view.

Neither Mystic betrayed any hint of surprise, though the worn, spiralling creases in their faces had hardened. SkekGra, however, looked alarmed; in a flash of sunlight he had drawn three blades—a short sword along with two daggers clutched in his secondary arms—and dropped into a defensive stance.

At some point, out of urGoh’s sight, urVa had nocked an arrow, though he did not yet draw it.

No one spoke. No breeze blew, the atmosphere heavy and taut as if the air itself were the Archer’s bow. UrGoh felt as if the slightest movement would snap the fragile strings holding them all at bay and the clearing would erupt into chaos.

He made the tiniest gesture toward skekGra, his eyes on the two Mystics.

“Here… is what I wanted you to... see,” he said, his tongue lame in his mouth. He half-expected the Archer to run him through with an arrow where he stood, perhaps not even bothering to loose it first.

"...A Skeksis," urSu said, and urVa tightened his grip on his bow.

"Yes," urGoh replied, twitching his tail in a vain attempt to rid himself of the excess tension in the air. "This is the skekGra, the Conqueror... my other half."

"This was a terrible place to meet it," urVa said, his voice a strained growl.

"Why?" skekGra asked suspiciously, and if it were possible, the tension only increased in the small clearing. Something was going to snap. "If you're worried about the Hunter, I don't think he comes out this far."

"He... hmmm." Slowly urVa lowered his bow, but only by a fraction. He doesn't, was probably what he had been planning to say, but he'd evidently thought the better of it, not wanting the Skeksis to know what he was actually worried about.

"Can you stop pointing that thing at me?" skekGra demanded, glancing from urVa to urGoh. "You’ll end up hurting him too, you know."

"Your weapons are still drawn," urVa retorted.

At that, skekGra pulled back slightly. "Listen, I don't know which ones you are, but..." He ground his teeth furiously. "...But my Emperor would have my head if the others found out I attacked you. I'd be attacking one of my own."

UrVa did loosen the pull on his arrow upon hearing that, lowering the weapon in surprise, but urSu's gaze hardened. "I do not believe it. No Skeksis has honor."

"This again," skekGra growled, but slowly sheathed his weapons. One talon, however, rested on the hilt of his sword.

"What does it mean, again?" urVa questioned, this time turning to urGoh.

"SkekGra and I met yesterday," he admitted. "It was then... we decided... to speak with you."

The Conqueror clicked his beak sharply. "Oh, yes, this was truly something we agreed upon, with full understanding of each other."

Slowly urSu turned his gaze upon urGoh. "Is this... what Thra spoke to you of?"

"Thra... spoke to us." UrGoh took a small step, merely shuffling his feet, realizing moments later that he had moved slightly closer to skekGra. "Both of us. We... were given... visions."

There was silence for a moment.

“Thra does not give us visions,” urVa said. “We are not truly a part of this world.”

"Any vision received by a Skeksis is sure to be one of corruption," urSu said, finally looking skekGra in the eye. Apparently the Conqueror could see a certain something in the Master's eyes, for he took a step back.

"I... I did see corruption in my vision," skekGra admitted after a moment. "Thra itself falling apart at the seams. Death everywhere. Even the Skeksis..." He swallowed. "We rotted where we stood." His gaze grew distant for a moment, before hardening, as he looked at urSu accusingly. "I'm sure the same was happening to you lot as well."

"It was... a warning," urGoh said quickly, before a fight could break out. "Thra showed me... that the Crystal... needed healing."

For a moment urVa and urSu were silent, the two turning their gazes upon each other. UrSu's face was unreadable, but urVa raised an eyebrow in interest. "Yes," he agreed. "The Crystal... does need to be healed."

"But not by one of our own," urSu said. "That is not our destiny."

"So what do you propose we do?" skekGra snapped. "Sit around and hope someone patches a bandage on it?!"

UrSu glared at him. “Nor is it a task that the Skeksis will accomplish. We must wait for the Crystal... to call."

"That is not... what Thra... told us," urGoh said. "It said... we must strive... for unity. All of Thra. The Gelfling—"

"The Gelfling have Aughra to aid them," the Master interjected.

"Aughra yet slumbers." UrVa said. His head lowered, but only for a moment.

"It is not our call."

"Oh, listen to yourselves!" skekGra snapped, teeth bared in a hiss. "Do you Mystics ever do anything other than mumble, walk in circles, and chant nonsense? When are you going to do something about all this?”

"A Skeksis would lecture us on taking action?" UrVa’s gaze was piercing.

The Conqueror’s eyes flared. “If even one of you bitter, long-necked sloths would stand up and act, you could march up to the Castle of the Crystal itself, and—!” He faltered.

UrGoh stared at his dark half. What?

He shook his head—it wasn’t important now. "What the Conqueror means,” he said, “is that... we are taking steps... to solve... the problem."

"The only steps we must take are the ones that will lead us when the Crystal calls us," urSu said simply.

"Thra... has told us otherwise." Looking between the Master and the Archer, urGoh curled his tail around his legs, mentally preparing himself for what he would say next. "Thra... wants us to unify... not just the rest of Thra... but the Skeksis... and the Mystics... together."

UrVa lifted his head, his eyes wide, while urSu's expression did not change. More alarmingly, he raised not only his head, but his entire body, his four hands braced against his staff. At his full height he towered over skekGra, and the Conqueror's feet dug into the dirt as though he wanted to be swallowed by it.

"It... is not... our... time."

The words hung heavily in the air, the solid weight of them bearing down on the shoulders of everyone in the clearing. UrGoh felt they would crush him, and nearly sank to the ground.

"Do you believe it, Wanderer?" urVa said, finally breaking the deafening silence. "That we should unite with our dark halves?"

"...Yes," urGoh replied, and froze at the look urVa gave him in return. Only then did he remember the encounter with the Hunter, a Skeksis who showed none of skekGra's fear of harming his own kind. "Um... Thra... told me..."

"Was it indeed Thra?" urSu stared down at him; he had not lowered himself in the slightest. "Or was it a product of your endless wanderings?"

"It's true!" skekGra blurted. "I saw it too. Thra won't leave us alone about it!" He gestured toward urGoh. “Show them the thing you had last night, that little glittery crystal shard! That looked important.”

“I… can’t,” urGoh said dolefully, glancing down out of habit at his empty hands. “It… shattered.”

“Oh. That’s helpful.”

UrSu stared at skekGra again, unmoved, and the Skeksis visibly balked. "I do not believe a Skeksis would be granted such a vision. Thra... has not said such to me."

"I wonder why," the Conqueror snapped, regaining his composure at once.

UrSu slowly dropped back into his normal posture. He looked wearier than urGoh had ever seen him. "A Skeksis is not to be trusted," he said finally, and turned to urGoh. "You must never again speak with your other half."

"What?" urGoh said, stunned.

"UrSu is right." UrVa took a step forward. "Was it not you yourself who spoke of the evils this creature has done? The blood he has shed?"

Even without looking, urGoh could feel skekGra's gaze upon him. His toes dug into the grass, his tail curling tightly. Once again, he saw the two Gruenaks huddled in a corner deep in the Caves of Grot, still mourning their lost family member. Even more, he could still see the shoreline of the Silver Sea, drenched in red with more than the light from the setting suns. "I... did... speak of such things."

"Our shadows... have reveled in bloodshed." There was nothing accusatory to urVa's voice; it was steeped in sorrow. "We should not wish to join with that."

UrGoh shook his head. “We… would not—”

"Nghhh—you’re missing the point!" skekGra cried. "You think I'm glad about the things I've done? Will none of you cretins believe me? Thra is... it's... look, I don't want that future it showed me, either! All right?"

UrSu and urVa's stares were upon him again, boring into him for a long while, until even urGoh felt uncomfortable. It was urSu who broke the silence: "Even now... you prove that the Skeksis act only in self-interest, and can do nothing good."

Something bolted up from the tip of urGoh's tail and all the way up his spine, and his chest burned. "At least... he does... something!" he snapped, glaring at the Master. When urSu stared back at him, he was tempted to back away, but held his ground. "We have done... nothing... to help Thra... for hundreds of trine. What does it matter... if something is done... in self-interest... if it is done at all?" His tail lashed, and he did not wait for a reply. "SkekGra... has decided... to join the cause... of Thra itself. That, I believe, is good. What... have you done... Master?"

Silence hung in the clearing. It was broken not by speech, but by a strange, soft crooning sound that emanated, to urGoh's shock, from the Conqueror's throat.

The Skeksis stepped forward, leveling himself with urGoh once again.

"There is one more thing we could try," he said lowly, and urGoh wasn't sure if it was meant for everyone to hear or for him alone. SkekGra looked down at him, the corners of his beak folded in a grim line.

And he held out a gloved hand.

"...Ah..." urGoh couldn't keep the single word from escaping with his breath. Icy claws like his dark half's talons pierced his heart, driving deeply into it. His eyes locked on the offered hand, and all it implied, and he couldn't move. The other two Mystics were like statues as they watched the proceedings.

"UrGoh?" skekGra prompted, and urGoh wondered if this was the first time the Skeksis had used his name. "UrGoh—take it, will you? This doesn't look good."

He felt as though he were drifting away on the tide, at the mercy of the waves. To take that hand was to offer alliance—friendship—to this creature that had slaughtered hundreds, thousands, and relished their suffering. To sever himself entirely from his own kind and tie himself even further to this shattered perversion of a being that differed from himself in every way. All in a bid to save this world from darkness.

He reached out and took skekGra's hand.

A great surge of feeling erupted through him, a warmth, a light as brilliant and blazing as the Crystal of Truth had once been. UrGoh took an astonished breath. This feeling… he hadn’t felt like this since—

In an instant he was jarred from the vision as skekGra pulled his hand away and the world returned to normal. Dazed, urGoh forced his focus back onto urSu and urVa. What had they seen?

“There!” the Skeksis said beside him. "You want unity? There's some unity!"

UrSu blinked at them slowly. “I did not see unity,” he said. “I saw hesitation—a lack of conviction. And a desire for selfish victory rather than benevolence.”

UrGoh bristled; next to him, skekGra cried, “WHAT?”

He went on, “I held a Mystic’s grubby hand and this is your reaction?! You only see what you want to see!”

UrGoh shifted uncomfortably. “We’re… working on it,” he said.

The Master shook his head, slowly, as though sorrowful. Finally, he turned away. "You... neither of you… will ever understand."

He started to leave, but glanced back only once. “If you decide to come back, urGoh, you may not be welcomed… unless you can convince me you have changed your mind.”

With that, the Master stamped his staff into the ground, and headed back toward the Valley without another word.

Frustration welled up through every fiber of urGoh's body. All four of his hands clenched into fists. He turned to urVa, ready to speak again, but his voice died when he saw the Archer's expression.

"...You believe I should join with the Hunter?"

There was a faint, desperate hope to urVa's voice. Hope that urGoh would prove him wrong.

For a moment, urGoh wanted to say no, that he would never ask his friend to even attempt such a thing. But he knew—he knew he could not waver.

"Yes."

UrVa stared at him, and silently turned away as well, his bow striking the ground sharply beneath him.

Once again, the clearing was silent, and urGoh could only stare hollowly at the spot where his companions had disappeared through the woods. Something was again bubbling up within him, but it was neither anger nor frustration. It filled his stomach and chest and throat until it finally burst through his mouth in a booming, echoing call.

Birds and fliers scattered from their roosts, and the tension was finally gone.

"Well," skekGra said, startling urGoh—he'd almost forgotten the Skeksis was still there. "So much for that."

Gritting his teeth, urGoh sighed through his nose before swinging his head toward skekGra. He felt exhausted—more than he had been in a long, long while. To his surprise, skekGra did not look the same, but was instead watching urGoh with an expression he found hard to read.

"...Did you feel it too?" he finally asked.

It took urGoh a moment to remember. “Yeah,” he admitted. “For… a moment.”

SkekGra nodded slowly, then hesitated. "And... did you really mean what you said? You think I'm... I'm better than the Mystics?"

UrGoh tipped his head, embarrassed and a little ashamed. "You... act more than any of us... certainly." Oddly, he found strength in his own words. "I believe... you can be good. What is the point... of unity... if you cannot?"

SkekGra gave what might have been a laugh, but without any humor. “Good? What is your definition of ‘good’?” He fiddled with the hilt of his sword. "I dunno. I'm... still figuring this out." His tail flicked. "...Now what?"

"That..." urGoh began, and paused. "...I do not... know." He tilted his head one way, then another. "We could... talk to... the Skeksis?"

Staggering back, skekGra grabbed his bony chest with his talons. "Do you have a death wish after all?!"

UrGoh frowned, a tendril of irritation curling in his own chest. “No.”

“You must, or that wouldn’t have even crossed your mind!” SkekGra’s beak snapped. “Those lumbering Mystic friends of yours were merely disappointed. Set foot in the Castle of the Crystal and they’d tear us both apart!” He paused dramatically. “Tear us apart separately, so we’d feel each other’s pain as well as our own!”

Raising a brow, urGoh said skeptically, “They would not… do such to one of their own.”

The Skeksis’ nostrils flared. “Oh? So sure, are you? And what of skekNa’s counterpart, urNol? What is he, the Herbalist? Noticed anything missing about him lately? I suppose his hand dropped off of its own accord? His eye vanished overnight through some… some fluke?”

UrGoh lowered his eyes. He had received word of the Herbalist’s plight, but had not looked into it. He remembered skekGra’s previous lamentations about the cruelty of Skeksis punishments and, for the first time, began to wonder…

SkekGra drew himself up higher, his eyes dimly lit with a familiar sort of victory. It was a light that flared and then died once more, as the realization of what that victory meant sank in. “Thra may have chosen to unite us, but the others will never be convinced. Never, Wanderer. It’s not in their natures!”

UrGoh’s breath caught. “And yet… it is in… ours?”

That gave them both pause.

“This was never in my nature,” skekGra said quietly. “I shouldn’t still be here talking to you. I should follow the winding trail of those urRu to see where you things like to vanish beyond our sights. I should bring you all to the Castle in chains.”

They looked at each other.

“I would… like to see you attempt… to chain up the Archer,” urGoh said mildly.

“Who’s chaining up longnecks?” a cantankerous voice demanded, making them both jump. “What’s all this racket?”

Both skekGra and urGoh spun around, the former brandishing his weapons again instinctively. But just as quickly he lowered them, and urGoh raised his head in astonishment.

Before them stood an old crone, her mane of gray hair curling around two spiraling ram horns and framing a face that once had three eyes. One eye had been put out over a thousand trine ago, while another was dimly lit, but still seeing. The leftmost eye, meanwhile, darted accusingly between the Skeksis and Mystic before settling on the latter.

“Well? Why are you shouting up the forest while some of us are on important business?”

UrGoh realized his mouth was hanging open.

"...Mother... Aughra,” he said. “You’re… awake.”

“Yes, awake and needing to know what’s going on beneath the stars rather than through them,” the old woman replied. “And you can start by telling Aughra…”

She stopped, turning to eye skekGra and then back to urGoh.

“What disaster has befallen Thra that a Skeksis would consult with a Mystic once again?”

[alivingstillness]

The heart intervention

A text about relationship, self-refinement and self-honesty, for the waking one.

You have come to the point of a story with another human being, where you feel tremendous urge for change. Unclear language and action between each other feels like it pushes you further towards the edge of a cliff that you no longer feel familiar with. 

To be infatuated with someone, ones actions and emotions often have the sense to be completely irrational. It is a forgetting of structure and behavioural patterns because for sometime, the feeling of union pushes mind to the backseat of our mechanism. It is not unusual that love-relationships are being built on this uniting desire to dissolve in one and another, but that the relationship takes new form when being tainted by life-experience outside of what is usually this first phase. 

“You need to love yourself, before you can love another.”

As long as union with another human being is the only experience one has had for complete absorption in love-bliss, the desire to experience union will be projected and wished for in the other person, - mistaking feeling and inner joy for the working of the other being. 

Since sex is such a potent way to for a moment shut the mind up and forget about the world, while one is in presence-absorption with flow of experience, it often becomes the gateway to project unity on a relationship that has gone sour or that is past the infatuation phase. It is a vicious habit because it is perpetuating ones own self-realisation and forcing the responsibility on your partner to fulfil yourself. Bodily urges can be satiated only for a short time, but recognising a deeper layer to our urges can make us go the root of them which makes us stop projecting our lack on other people. 

It is absolutely not about abstaining from sensory experience, or stopping the body or heart from attraction. But from self-realisation or awakening there is union beyond body, making the heart more infinite that one could ever dream of. 

To make love from the view of oneself already being in union, and being in the heart of awareness is like instead of acting as drops to become an ocean, you are the whole ocean in every drop, fully experiencing and never projecting. It gives you the opportunity to go into relation with another without tainting the relationship with your inner desire to feel whole. 

When realising divine union as yourself, there is tremendous energy, not only in your body but you become one with it. A journey with kundalini within your being, can work as layers upon layers of unfolding until focus becomes meditation and you surrender yourself to the Self, -rarely an instant transformation. On this journey, the human body and its energies change. 

There is frequent increase of experiencing on a more subtle level, which makes mystical experiences very common. Our whole vibration changes, making our vibratory field a natural director of things. When recognising awareness as yourself, the mind gets to be more of a witness of your path that has become pathless, watching new vibratory play take form, appearing as the path. 

Now, living as this bundle of vibratory potential, heart in Self-awareness and mind tagging along, can be sort of irruptive in the world of “I” the doer, for you are no longer that, and “I” is more like a divine act, a play of living form, no longer personal, yet very intimate. 

To act without acting or embodying the rays of uncaused and free will, one has to surrender the “I” completely. Even though some realisation of yourself might have taken place, it is hard to embody this divine surrender when living roles as mother, spouse, boyfriend, child or employee. One can understand the value of asceticism in this recognition. But it is also a bit of escapism of the play that is also the absolute, and if you have a structure that gives resistance to your truth, there is opportunity to surrender to that as well. But this is complex since some things are meant to stay and some to shatter. 

Embodying virtues of self-union and giving them form is alchemical, it lets awareness into maya and you get the opportunity - if you long for truth and purity enough, to play one last game in total freedom, which from a social perspective can be damn hard to let happen. 

If you have undergone some expansive self-understanding, your relationship with others will take new forms. Ones perspective about everything changes when there has been a new climax in self-exploration. A wise teacher once said: 

“A seed, having become a tree can never go back to being a seed, it is a tree!” - Rohan Ji. 

Since you are now a tree, you see the potential and recognition of a tree in the whole spectrum of form. It will change the way you look at things and others as much as it changes the person looking. Even your eyes will transform. Interactions with others are therefore in for a change as well. 

When being in an intimate relationship with someone who has not yet sparked his or hers desire towards the path of self discovery while you have jumped on the express train of inner fire to complete oblivion, turbulence are bound to happen. 

When the resonance between two beings become disruptive and your wavelengths of expression and understanding have become very different, the relationship structure easily becomes a battle of separate forces. Unless your parter is is willing to jump on the same train or is someone who embody enormous acceptance and security, then resistance, confusion and sorrow are some feelings likely to emerge. It might also be intimidating when noticing new behaviours, and a state of contentment can receive the opposite reaction from a partner that does not understand what perspective you are coming from. 

There is no right or wrong or anyone who can tell you how to handle your relationships or life situations after having discovered a new truth as yourself. But what can be helpful is a reflective reminder, that even though you might not be able to agree with each other or understand the others perspective, you do have the power to fully accept and surrender to what is. To recognise your feelings and your new vibration that speaks for itself and wants to be given the opportunity to direct your being in its natural flow. 

If you have already gone to the depth of your being, then there is no protection from hurt that will align anyone of you with the truth that you are. I am not telling you to to give up on someone or something as soon as things get uncomfortable, for there is much learning and growth when we confront feelings of discomfort. But they have to be confronted within, so we can have a clear language toward ourselves before we express it outwardly. Remember the seed that you were and the view that was once yours. It is not your task to push someone else forward because guidance has to come from within. If one is ready for existential pointers or true spirituality, then that will come from the desire of ones own path. It is a matter of heart longing for freedom that is outside of your personal directing. 

Stay as awareness and notice where there is stagnation and where there is flow. Be attentive and get to know your radiance in the world. Always surrender to what is presented and don’t put your wise heart behind bars. 

Embody your truth and see where it leads you. Give space for seeds to germinate, but do not make your personal ego the one to water them. What comes will come and what goes will go. Do not cling and do not be afraid, for you are eternal love. You can not give conditioned love from the structures of a finite mind when you have recognised it for its permeating liquidity, sipping through where tension can relax or be recognised as source. You are not responsible for your past feelings but you are responsible to recognise what is appearing now and act accordingly. 

Do not judge bundles of vibrations, but notice them from your heart. Honour hurt and honour joy. Stay in the present and let form be form. Let life be a grand intervention, but don’t forget yourself while investing in its wondrous play. 

Be humble, Stay awake.

/Alexandra

Artwork by James R. Eads and Chris McDaniel 

[ingek73]

Victoria Arbiter: The Prince Harry photo 'debate' that reflects our era of misinformation

By Victoria Arbiter| 11 hours ago

According to Britain's Daily Mail, a "transatlantic row" is brewing over Joe Biden's recent decision to remove a bust of Sir Winston Churchill from the Oval Office, several years after Barack Obama provoked a similar storm.

Suggesting the move a "snub to the UK", critics claim it also indicates a further dwindling of the nations' "special relationship", which has been in existence since WWII.

Joe Biden at Oval Office desk wearing mask

US President Joe Biden in his newly-decorated Oval Office - sans Winston Churchill bust. (Jabin Botsford/Getty Images)

While it's imperative to ensure close ties are maintained, ministers demanding America's head of state display the bust of a former British PM seems arrogant in the extreme. Surely extolling the virtues of one's own citizens takes priority over honouring the international elite.

Likewise, those featured in last week's inauguration represented the very best of America, not the rest of the world. For that reason alone, it was baffling to see many pushing the idea Dr. Jill Biden had requested a photo of Prince Harry to serve as part of the backdrop to her husband's big day.

A close friend of the Bidens, the Prince's achievements speak for themselves, but still it's a stretch to think any president would use an inauguration to give a shout out to a royal. Nonetheless, multiple parties chose to repeat random musings as fact with zero regard for the role they were playing in perpetuating fake news.

As the sun began to set on Inauguration Wednesday, Clinton staffer, Jon Davidson, posted a photo to Twitter revealing Bill and Hillary Clinton deep in conversation with Joe Biden. Clearly instructed to document the day, he took the snap shortly after the former president laid a wreath at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at Arlington National Cemetery alongside Obama, Bush Jr. and the newly inaugurated Joe Biden.

Though the shot merely captured an innocuous exchange, its background — revealing a large wall mounted image of Prince Harry in Ceremonial Dress — immediately led to an online debate. Given the Prince's close association to the current First Family, some observers were swift to credit the Bidens for featuring the Prince on an opulent scale.

Were it an accurate assumption it would be prestigious indeed, but the picture in question was not hung on the day, nor was it there at the Bidens' request; rather it forms part of a permanent exhibition dedicated to preserving the history of Arlington National Cemetery. Housed in the Memorial Display Room since 2013, it's a fitting reminder of the day Harry laid a wreath at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier on behalf of the Queen, the British armed forces and as a representative of the UK.

Prince Harry at the Arlington National Cemetery on May 10, 2013.

A photo of Prince Harry at the Arlington Memorial similar to the one spotted in Jon Davidson's photo. (Getty)

As misinformation goes it was fairly benign, but as the narrative gained traction it spoke to the speed with which fake news now spreads; a problem Prince Harry is especially keen to stamp out. In an interview for Fast Company magazine published a week ago Friday, the Prince spoke of the digital landscape and the role it plays in furthering hate and toxicity in public debate.

Believing social media platforms responsible for helping propagate "an avalanche of misinformation" and "a barrage of mistruths", Harry said, "What happens online does not stay online – it spreads everywhere, like wildfire: into our homes and workplaces, into the streets, into our minds. The question really becomes about what to do when news and information sharing is no longer a decent, truthful exchange, but rather an exchange of weaponry."

In a hard-hitting speech in 2018, Prince William expressed a similar concern. Accusing online firms of being distracted by profit he said, "Technology companies still have a great deal to learn about the responsibilities that come with their significant power."

Prince William and Prince Harry

William and Harry have both condemned the societal impacts of misinformation via big tech. (Getty)

By failing to tackle fake news, division, trolling and privacy, 'Big Tech' arguably shoulders much of the blame, but it's up to users to ensure their digital dialogue is factually based and not a misguided means to promoting a cause. Considering the vitriol unleashed by Harry's inauguration day sighting, we have a long way to go if we're ever to eliminate the endless cycle of hate.

Prince Harry's friendship with the President and First Lady is one built on shared experience and support. Having tragically lost his wife, young daughter and later his son, Biden is all too familiar with the agony of grief. He regularly talks of his personal sorrows as a way to connect with others in pain.

The Bidens' late son, Beau, was an active member of the military and like Harry, he too was deployed to a warzone. A National Guard family, the Bidens have been advocates of the Invictus Games and they've consistently shown their appreciation for veterans whose sacrifices have helped keep the nation safe.

Committed as both parties are to fulfilling public service, their mutual respect should be echoed and admired. Even so, had the Bidens opted to install large scale images of public figures to mark the inauguration, they rightly would have plumped for prominent Americans and not as some intimated their good friend, Prince Harry.

The issue, of course, is a vast hypothetical, but it illustrates the need for a healthy dose of common sense before hitting 'tweet'. Instead of jumping on a bandwagon in which misinformation reigns, it's worth reviewing the objective before being a conduit to bitter arguments and hate.

Jill Biden and Prince Harry attend the wheelchair basketball final on day 8 of the Invictus Games Toronto in 2017.

Harry's friendship with the Bidens is one built on shared experience and support. ((Photo by Samir Hussein/Samir Hussein/WireImage)

Where Twitter used to be littered with cat videos and witty hot takes, it's since descended into a cesspit of rage. Yet, as the inauguration of the 46th president of the United States got underway there was, for a moment, a small glimmer of hope.

As hilarious memes featuring a mitten-clad Bernie Sanders quickly gained steam, so too evolved a collective sense of camaraderie and joy. Positive commentary fueled by an abundance of goodwill created a feeling of unity sorely lacking in years: Kamala Harris was lauded, Michelle Obama hailed and after her jaw-dropping performance, Amanda Gorman was lavished with praise. Granted the enthusiasm didn't extend to all, but still negativity was largely overruled, proving it's possible to engage in civil discourse even when certain groups vehemently disagree.

Despite its many drawbacks, social media's here to stay, but when used constructively there's tremendous potential for good. In order for it to provide a safe forum, however, it's imperative seismic changes are made. Harry's not, as some have attested, calling for censure, nor an end to free speech. He's using his platform to push for reform. While he undoubtedly has a significant battle on his hands, should he be successful the resulting impact could be huge.

Prince Harry and Meghan Markle pictured in 2018.

Harry declared in a recent interview: "What happens online does not stay online – it spreads everywhere, like wildfire." (AP)

"It's a false choice to say you have to pick between free speech or a more compassionate and trustworthy digital world," he said. "They are not mutually exclusive… there can be disagreement, conversation, opposing points of view – as there should be, but never to the extent that violence is created, truth is mystified, and lives are jeopardised."

Put more simply, perhaps we could all subscribe to the wise words of Rumi, the 13th-century poet and theologian, who once said, "Before you speak, let your words pass through three gates. At the first gate, ask yourself, 'Is it true?' At the second gate ask, 'Is it necessary?' At the third gate ask, 'Is it kind?'"

A simple philosophy it may be, but it's one as potent today as it was centuries ago.

[ships-n-giggles]

Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity; How Nintendo Subverted Expectations and Emphasizes Unity over the Lone Hero Trope

Having played Age of Calamity to death, I was one of the many people who expected the same outcome of a prequel to the much beloved Breath of the Wild; an exciting, battle based game that ultimately confirms the outcome that we see in flashbacks of Link’s service to the princess before his 100 year slumber, a tragedy waiting to happen.

But, spoilers down below, the rug gets pulled from under your feet in the most positive and heartwarming way.

In order to emphasize the message of Age of Calamity, let’s return to Breath of the Wild for a minute. The game shows very clearly that this follows the Hero’s Journey, which we’ve played many times before in Zelda games. This Lone Hero Trope, as I call it, is the dedication of a single person for a greater cause, who shoulders heavy burdens on their own in order to carry out a noble mission. Both Link AND Zelda represent this trope! Not only do we learn of Zelda’s quiet, lone suffering as she struggles and fails to achieve her inner sealing power, but we see it visually when we play as Link, following his quest to defeat Ganon.

Just look at the Memory Images Link follows. When each one opens up, Link and Zelda often stand apart as time begins. Even their fellow Champions stand apart during the first memory where Link is being knighted, expressing doubts and concerns, while Zelda shrinks with reluctance.

But then when we see the opening scene of the first playthrough mission of Age of Calamity, our first shot of Link not only has him teaming up with an entire platoon, but they’re all united. Standing together, roused by a common cause to fight evil, and positioned close together. In many of the cutscenes thereafter, there’s an increasing closeness to all the characters, and a budding sense of familiarity.

What changed? Baby Guardian.

The Baby Guardian is only given a short period of time to be seen by the audience in the opening prequel, awakened by Zelda’s sealing power, and urged to flee back to the past to find her. We see the shift from Lone Hero to Unity right away; Baby Guardian knows they can’t carry out the rescue of Hyrule on their own and instinctively goes to find someone he KNOWS can. In doing so, he finds Link and Impa, who are pulled to Zelda’s side while chasing him. From then on out, this change draws more and more people together.

Now I have my own theory, which you can agree or disagree with. What we see of Baby Guardian in Zelda’s flashbacks of him hark to a childhood when her mother the Queen was still alive. And, to a smaller degree, we can connect this memory to another one not seen, but shown when Zelda gives her father a tool she and her mother found while investigating Sheikah technology.

Though her mother is dead, she is still sending means to protect her family, all of which are only achieved when the characters communicate and listen to each other. King Rhoam would most certainly have perished to the Guardian assault on Hyrule Castle if he had not accepted the tool Zelda gave him, and Zelda would not have developed her power to fight with the Sheikah tools had Baby Guardian not arrived either.

The very fact that there are literal swarms of monsters, more intense challenges, only drives home how hard it is to take someone down when they’re not alone. Any of the playable characters can take down literally hundreds if not THOUSANDS of monsters at a time because in most cases, they’re not doing it on their own. Just look at the characters we can recruit; while Hetsu, the Great Fairies, and Monk Maz Koshia are all aids to Link’s journey in Breath of the Wild, we never receive their aid as staunchly as we do in Age of Calamity. Even Kohga ends up joining the fight, when it becomes clear that Astor is a threat to their existence. And the more that join, the greater the offense.

Why change the future? What turns this prequel into a spinoff with a happy ending? It’s a shift in mindsets; from Rhoam’s to Baby Guardians.

Whether you can appreciate the King of Hyrule as a complex character or hate him for being a terrible father, the fact of the matter is that he is not only a leader, but a manifestation of Hyrule as a kingdom All kings more or less fill this role as a model for what a kingdom could be. Rhoam undoubtedly was raised to follow the Hero’s Journey to the letter, to expect a princess with sealing powers, a Hylian with a sword to seal the darkness and a monster to overcome. But when things don’t happen the way the stories tell him, like when Zelda can’t access her sealing power, he only buckles down on the importance of sole strength.

This ends up being a fatal flaw in Breath of the Wild, as he ends up pushing his daughter away. In his diary, readable in Hyrule Castle if you access his private office, we see his regrets, and decision to accept her no matter what....all far too late by the time he writes them.

But in Age of Calamity, when faced with the huge group Zelda has gathered with Baby Guardian’s help, as well as having been rescued by the very technology he tried to urge Zelda away from, he can’t deny the facts any longer. After Rhoam is recruited as a playable character, we see much less of him as a leader. He’s accepted his daughter’s growth, aided by the help of her friends, and seen the truth for what it is.

That a people united is a people saved.

Now don’t misunderstand me. I love Breath of the Wild. The music, the challenging shrines and boss battles, all of it. However Age of Calamity hit me emotionally and more or less exposed some of the weaknesses of most Zelda games. While there have been mild exceptions, we’re so used to carrying the burden of saving the whole world on our own, we forget just what a crushing responsibility it must be for these young people. We can see it in Zelda’s heartbreaking scene in the Spring of Courage, cursing her fate, pushed to tears, and standing apart. It sends a particularly poignant message to me now, often feeling like the only way something can get done is if I do it on my own.

But Breath of the Wild is evidence to why this doesn’t work. While we can see a true victory over Ganon, a kingdom saved, and a princess rescued, we also see the toll it took before it could be achieved. The Champions, King, and countless other civilians and soldiers are killed. Zelda and Link are left alone again to pick up the pieces of a fractured, weakened kingdom. The Hero’s Journey is set to continue, a long, solitary journey of hardship.

Age of Calamity on the other hand, showed how beneficial and wonderful it is to conquer a daunting world with your friends. Not only does it spirit you to the end of your journey faster, but it reinforces the message that “burdens shared are burdens halved”. And we get to save our friends, by calling upon the ones we made in Breath of the Wild through Riju, Teba, Sidon, and Yunobo. Most of the missions playable in the game, at least for replay, are able to be done by ANYONE. If you play the final battle with Link, you can replay it with Baby Guardian.

Anyone can be a hero if you fight together.

[bluemoon-writer]

Permanent Swap

Pairing: Percy x Reyna

Word Count: 3757

Summary: Hera knew she was meddling with fate, but she had no choice. However, she had no idea how permanent her actions would be.

Percy Jackson was not supposed to arrive at Camp Jupiter until June, yet somehow, he arrived six months early. He was supposed to have partial memories connecting him to Camp Half-Blood, yet he remembered nothing.

Hera supposed she should have known better than to try to make an unequal exchange. The fates simply evened the scales.

Author’s Notes

Read on: FF  ----   AO3 --- Wattpad

Or hit ‘keep reading’ to read on Tumblr.

Hera knew she was meddling with fate, but she had no choice. However, she had no idea how permanent her actions would be.

Percy Jackson was not supposed to arrive at Camp Jupiter until June, yet somehow, he arrived six months early. He was supposed to have partial memories connecting him to Camp Half-Blood, yet he remembered nothing.

Hera supposed she should have known better than to try to make an unequal exchange. The fates simply evened the scales.

-Ω-

'Percy Jackson,' Percy thought to himself. It was his name, one of two things he remembered about himself. The other is that he was the son of Poseidon, or Neptune, as Lupa would say. He supposed he was lucky to know who his godly parent was, but the lack of the rest of his memories made him reluctant to say so definitively.

Still, Frank was constantly wondering who his own godly parent was, so Percy was glad he had at least one thing he didn't have to worry about.

Frank arrived at the Wolf House only a few days after Percy did. They were the only two demigods there, so they quickly became sparring partners and then friends. Soon, they would leave for Camp Jupiter together. Technically, it's a journey that's supposed to be done alone, but there are no official rules about traveling together.

-Ω-

The journey to Camp Jupiter was more difficult than Percy anticipated. He felt like he had been on the road before, and some of the instincts remained. He was able to hotwire a car for them to use – steal – but it was quickly abandoned after a day when it was spotted by law enforcement.

Percy and Frank trespassed through a lot of property while running away which ended with them accidentally running into a camp of Anthropophagites, a race of cannibals, who they had to fight. They could bring themselves to loot the camp for supplies, so the two boys found themselves camping with no equipment.

They managed to gather some supplies, but the journey remained perilous. Percy estimated that they ran into two monsters a day. He assumed Frank had to be the child of someone powerful, because alone neither of them would draw that many monsters.

Eventually though, they did arrive.

-Ω-

Frank may not have known who his godly parent was, but he had papers. This was enough to accept him into the legion, even if he was put in the fifth cohort. Percy had nothing. His fate was dependent on someone be willing to stand for him. Luckily, fate was with him. For now.

A young, dark-skinned, girl stood for him and Percy let out a breath of relief.

Relief that he was safe for now.

Relief that he wouldn't be on his own anymore.

Relief because, as strange as it might seem, he already felt a sense of belonging.

-Ω-

The girl who stood for him was Hazel Levesque and she was the daughter of Pluto. Apparently, she hadn't been at Camp for that long either, but as the child of Pluto she knew how it felt to be an outsider. So, when she saw the other shake their heads at the thought of accepting a son of Neptune, she stood for him.

Since she stood for him, Hazel had to show Percy how things worked around camp, and since she was already showing him around the centurions had her show Frank as well.

It was rare that three people got along as well as they did.

Two friends was all Percy needed to ignore the hostile glares from the legionnaires.

Two friends was all Frank needed to have the confidence to speak his mind.

Two friends was all Hazel needed to not feel cursed.

-Ω-

Percy adjusted to the pace of Camp Jupiter. He was surprised that he enjoyed it so much. At first, he recoiled at the strict order, but he found peace in the stability and grew even more confident in his abilities the longer he was there. He couldn't be positive, but he felt as if he had a very chaotic childhood. Camp Jupiter was a nice respite.

Still, he didn't completely reform. He couldn't bring himself to just blindly listen to orders, and found himself, with Frank, often purposing strategies during war games.

Their centurions, Dakota and Gwen didn't listen to them the first time. However, after the trio single-handedly won the bi-weekly war game they started listening.

And for the first time in years, the fifth cohort had a five-game winning streak.

-Ω-

After doing so well in the games, it shouldn't have been a surprise for Mars to appear to claim Frank as his son. However, everyone was shocked anyways. However, they weren't surprised when he gave the trio a quest.

-Ω-

The quest was simply to retrieve the eagle, so they were quite surprised to arrive in Alaska to find Death chained and a giant guarding him. The surprise turned to worry when they realized there was an army marching towards Camp Jupiter.

They practically flew across the waves as Percy was pushing them so fast back towards camp. As they neared Camp Jupiter, they could see the monster army marching nosily towards it.

Percy pushed to go fast.

They arrived in time to warn Reyna.

They only beat the monster army by minutes, but those precious minutes of preparation saved lives.

-Ω-

Percy fought the hardest he had in his life.

Slash. Dodge. Stab. Duck.

This was his new home.

Slash. Dodge. Stab. Duck.

He had to protect it.

Slash. Dodge. Stab. Duck.

He had to face the giant.

Slash. Dodge. Stab. Duck.

He needed a god.

Terminus.

He lifted Terminus's stone head and slammed it into the giant.

The fighting ended.

Percy was lifted up on shields.

-Ω-

Praetor. Praetor. Praetor.

-Ω-

Being Praetor was large jump in responsibilities, yet Percy didn't feel worried. He had a strange feeling that he had been in a similar position.

It also helped that Reyna was a good teacher.

-Ω-

While Percy had adjusted to the pace of life of a Legionnaire, being Praetor was a whole other level. He had to learn about Politics.

The Praetors are in charge, but they can be overruled if the senators and augur combine their powers. There are also the honorary senate members to contend with who were former legionnaires. Many plans and power plays were disrupted by Percy's election on the battlefield. It had been expected that Octavian would become the next Praetor as he had been collecting votes for the election in June.

Due to this disruption, Reyna stressed to Percy how delicate the balance of power was currently. It was vital that they remain a united front.

Percy swore he would do anything to protect New Rome and Camp Jupiter.

So, he and Reyna spent the majority of their time together. She was the first person he saw in the morning and the last person he saw at night.

They were constantly seen together, whether it was at meals, watching the war games, or simply walking around New Rome.

In this way, they established an image of unity.

-Ω-

Slowly, they built a solid foundation of trust. Reyna had been leading Camp Jupiter alone for months. Everyone relied on her. Friend or lover, she needed someone she could lean on, and that was a position Percy could fill.

-Ω-

Percy enjoyed Reyna's company. She seemed familiar, but he couldn't place why. She had told him about how they met in the Sea of Monsters, but he was sure that wasn't the only place he remembered her from.

After spending several weeks joined at the hip, Percy learned that Reyna was similar to him. He didn't realize it at first, because she acted so serious, but eventually she let her guard down when they were alone. Like him, she's fiercely loyal which is why she's so strict. She prefers to fight, not plan, but learned to become a planner so she could be a better leader. And she's funny, her humor is a dry sarcasm, so Percy didn't realize that she was making a joke the first few times. Now he makes a point to laugh at all her jokes.

He also makes it his goal to make her laugh at least once every day. The first time he heard her laugh he almost had an aneurysm. It was late at night, both of them had had too much coffee, he made a dumb Rome pun, and Reyna lost it. She doubled over in laughter and Percy could only stare in amazement.

-Ω-

Their friendship was not the only thing they worked on building. Large parts of New Rome had been destroyed in the battle with Polybotes. The city needed rebuilding so that was their main task.

It worked in their favor as they decided to update many parts of the city while they rebuilt. This garnered favor with the veterans who put pressure on the senators to be more supportive of their Praetors.

The week they unveiled the new Senate building they received more oaths of loyalty than they did the day Percy became a Praetor.

-Ω-

The growing support was good because they were going to need all of it if the memories Percy recovered were true.

-Ω-

Percy's memories were coming back slowly, but they were still coming back. He remembered his mom and had vague memories of his best friend, Grover, and even vaguer memories of another camp. He couldn't remember the name or location, but he knew now that he was sent to Camp Jupiter on purpose.

Reyna was the first one he told.

-Ω-

They had assumed that there had been somewhere else for demigods to go, Percy being alive proved that. However, having actual confirmation changed things. There was a war coming, they would need the other camp's help to defeat Gaea.

So together, Percy, Reyna, Frank, and Hazel made a plan. It was obvious that Percy and Jason were switched, their next challenge was how to reveal the information to the Senate without starting a war. There were some preparations they could make now, such as adding a place for the Greeks to stay outside of the city limits to the city plans.

However, much of their planning had to wait until Percy remembered more information about the other camp.

-Ω-

Luckily, they didn't have to wait long because soon Percy met Nico di Angelo.

-Ω-

Percy thought the best way to describe meeting Nico was like getting punched in the face while having a lake poured into your ears. The moment they shook hands, he was flooded with memories, mostly things that related to the other boy.

He remembered getting the curse of Achilles. He remembered Mythomagic. He remembered Bianca and her death. But most importantly, he remembered that Nico had been at Camp Half-Blood.

So, Nico was recruited.

-Ω-

Nico was their eyes and ears in the Greek camp. Initially, he wanted them to contact Camp Half-Blood, but they had already agreed that that should be a last resort.

The reason was based in politics. They couldn't be in contact with the Greeks before even announcing their existence to the Senate, it would look like a conspiracy. And if Percy were to remain trusted by the Romans, he couldn't have anything to do with the Greeks until the Camp trusted them.

Nico had the unique position of being able to say he was an ambassador to both camps on behalf of his father. This was crucial for their new plans.

If the prophecy of the Seven was really coming true, then they would need a neutral party for the trip. The Senate would never agree to four Greeks and three Romans. So, Nico would have to be the neutral party.

Percy and Jason obviously had to go since they were the ones swapped.

Nico told them the other one guaranteed would be Leo Valdez because he was building the ship they would need.

Then it was likely to be Jason's girlfriend, Piper McLean because she went on the quest to free Hera with Jason and Leo. Percy couldn't help but notice that Reyna seemed to be sad to hear about Jason having a girlfriend.

The last person Nico thought would come was Annabeth Chase.

"She's your…close friend," Nico explained. Percy believed him. He had some memories of her, but she was mostly in the background. Still, her constant presence was enough to convince him that they were close.

-Ω-

"This memory loss is driving me crazy," Percy muttered.

"How so?" Reyna asked, looking up from her document.

"Ever since Nico arrived, I've remembered more about Camp, but the more I remember the more I'm aware of everything I've forgotten. Like, I have face in my head but no names for them. I remember what my cabin looked like, but I don't have any memories from being inside it," he vented.

Reyna reached over and patted his hand.

"They will come back in time, don't worry. Nico said that Jason has recovered many of his memories, you will too."

-Ω-

Memory loss and preparation for war aside, Percy enjoyed his life at Camp Jupiter. The more he got to know the legionnaires the more he liked them. They took longer to trust, but that was because they were in a more militaristic environment. Percy was proud that he managed to get their trust.

He was more relaxed than Reyna with them as well. He liked to joke that they had a good cop bad cop routine. However, he still carried out punishments on those who broke the rules. Reyna would remind him that he could be friendly but could not seem like a push-over.

Still, he felt a trill of happiness every time he was walking through New Rome and heard someone call him by his name and wave hello.

New Rome was another part of Camp Jupiter that Percy grew more found of every day. He was still missing many of his memories, but he could remember that he spent much of his time moving around. The idea of a safe place where he could settle down and go to school without worrying about monsters was intoxicating.

-Ω-

Reyna was trying to suppress her excitement, and Percy was instantly suspicious.

"What are you up to?"

"Just close your eyes and come with me." Percy sighed, but obediently closed his eyes. Reyna grabbed his hand and lead him through a doorway, down a hall, around a corner, and through another doorway.

"Okay, you can open them," Reyna whispered.

In front of Percy was a giant mist maker and a reflective light. Together they made a giant rainbow. He turned to Reyna in confusion. She held up a drachma.

"Call your mom."

-Ω-

Percy cried for a long time while he was on the call with his mom. She had to be sworn not to tell anyone but talking with her was the second happiest moment he had at Camp Jupiter.

The happiest happened directly afterwards when he kissed Reyna (And she kissed back).

-Ω-

Their relationship progressed slowly. They were the leaders of New Rome and Camp Jupiter and they had a war to plan. They couldn't let their relationship ruin that. But they couldn't hold back their feelings either.

It was common to see the two walking around New Rome in the evening, holding hands while discussing business.

-Ω-

Percy knew he was missing something important (Annabeth), but Reyna greeted him in the morning with coffee and a kiss.

She giggled as he tickled her.

She swung their arms as they walked hand-in-hand down the main road in New Rome.

She rubbed his back when he remembered new things.

She bit her pen while looking over document.

He kissed the spot on her forehead that she always rubbed when she was getting tired.

And he couldn't bring himself to push his memories and find out what was missing.

-Ω-

Then it was too late.

The memory came to him suddenly.

Him and Annabeth.

Underwater.

Kissing.

"Percy, what did you remember?"

Percy wouldn't forget the look in her eyes when he told her.

-Ω-

They stopped taking walks around New Rome.

-Ω-

Their relationship changed again, but it didn't become cold.

They're still friends.

Friends who have feelings for each other.

Friends who have feelings for each other and know the other likes them back.

But Reyna wasn't going to be the 'other woman'.

And Percy refused to be the douche who uses amnesia as an excuse to cheat.

So, they go back to being friends.

They're still united.

It's just a bit awkward.

-Ω-

The drama is forgotten as there are more important factors at play. Soon, it's time to present their information about the Greeks to the Senate.

Together they stood.

And the senate listened.

When the Greeks arrive, they will be tentatively accepted.

-Ω-

The Argo II parks at the convenient dock built for it. Guards are placed around it, much to the protests of one Leo Valdez.

Jason Grace is wearing a Praetor robe, and Percy scowls internally.

The four demigods descended to greet the Romans, not aware they were expecting them.

Percy remained at Reyna's side and greets them cordially.

They aren't together, but they are still united.

-Ω-

Annabeth rushes forward.

Percy doesn't.

Annabeth stops.

-Ω-

It was hard. Percy suppressed his instincts. This isn't how he would have greeted them, but it's how he had to greet them. For the benefit of Rome. Part of him wanted to run to Annabeth too, but the rest of him was rooted in Rome.

-Ω-

The plan worked.

There was no more doubt in the eyes of the Legion.

Percy Jackson may have been born Greek, but he is Roman now.

-Ω-

"I refuse," Percy said coolly.

"You can't refuse! I was elected Praetor first. It is only right that we return to the positions we left behind," Jason argued.

"And I was elected when you disappeared. At this point, I've been Praetor longer. I swore an oath and I am not going to break it. So, I say again, I refuse to step down."

Jason glared at him from across the table. Percy thought he understood why Jason was so fervent about getting his position back though.

"Reyna, do you mind if Jason and I talk alone for a moment?"

Reyna nodded and Percy tried to ignore the betrayal in Annabeth's eyes.

-Ω-

"You don't really want to be Praetor again, you just don't want your friends to see you as a traitor," Percy said as they stepped into his private meeting room.

Jason sighed and sank into a chair, "How did you know?"

"Because that's how I feel about Camp Half-Blood."

"What? The campers could never see you as a traitor, you're practically a legend there!"

"How do you think they'll feel when they find out that I don't want to come back? That I'd prefer to be the leader of another camp?"

"…I understand. You really like Camp Jupiter that much?"

"Yes," Percy answered confidently.

"Ah, okay, I won't fight you on Praetorship," Jason said with a grin. Percy noticed that a weight seemed to be lifted off him.

"Thank the gods, Octavian is enough trouble," Percy joked. Jason let out a small laugh.

"But, if you come back to Camp Half-Blood and try to take my position there then we'll have to fight," Jason warned. Percy nodded his agreement.

"Ok, and Jason? Don't worry about being seen as a traitor. The legionnaires aren't dumb, they'll be able to tell that you still care about New Rome."

"Right back at you, Jackson."

-Ω-

He breaks up with Annabeth.

"Is it because of her?"

"No! Yes…yes and no. I care about you, but I don't remember most of our time dating. I still can't tell what memories are real and what are just dreams. I remember fully all of my time with Reyna and…I do have feelings for her. I'm sorry Annabeth, but it wouldn't be fair…"

"Percy, I understand."

Still, he couldn't help but feel like the biggest asshole on the planet.

Every day, he remembers more about her and their relationship and those memories war with the ones he has with Reyna.

He can't be with either right now, not with a war coming.

-Ω-

They drop Annabeth off at Camp Half-Blood to prepare the camp for war.

Then they head for Greece.

-Ω-

While Annabeth and Reyna ready their camps to fight Gaea's army, the seven have two tasks.

Free the Doors of Death and stop Gaea from rising.

Easier said than done.

But they're the chosen seven.

They make do.

(Leo dies in the process, but he comes back so it's fine)

-Ω-

The war was over, but Percy couldn't rest until he knew Reyna was safe.

(She was)

-Ω-

Together they return to Rome and rebuild once more.

-Ω-

This time, Reyna kisses him first and they start taking walks through the city again.

-Ω-

Piper comes to Camp Jupiter as Camp Half-Blood's official ambassador. Her official reason is that she wants to be closer to her dad. The real reason is that she broke up with Jason.

She couldn't help but doubt the validity of her relationship due to the memory manipulation. Percy can relate more than anyone and welcomes her with open arms.

-Ω-

Reyna retires first and assumes an advisor position while going to college.

Percy misses her but he can't be upset about working with one of his best friends. And thanks to Reyna, he's able to train Frank well.

-Ω-

Eventually, Piper returns to Camp Half-Blood.

Someone needs to fill the ambassador position.

So, Percy retires.

He thinks Hazel will make a great Praetor, and he's looking forward to college.

He convinced his mom and Paul to move to New Rome so he could still be near them. His mom can work anywhere, and Percy was able to get Paul a position as a lecturer. He's looking forward to being taught by him again.

-Ω-

(Word comes that Annabeth and Jason got together)

-Ω-

Finally, they're able to settle down.

Reyna rents a storefront not far from camp and starts a martial arts school directed to help troubled kids while Percy is able to get a job as a marine biologist.

Eventually, he gets down on one knee too.

(She says yes)

AN: pls comment your thoughts!

[thatyanderecritic]

i really like the yandere dynamic but i dont openly post or reblog about it anymore cuz i've had people give me a hard time over it being problematic. and i get told im terrible, get called a freak... idk. do you have any advice for dealing with this...?

Hey anon, sorry for not getting to you sooner. We have a lot of questioned queued up to be answered but I decided to put you first since this is a pretty big issue. 

To be a yandere fan, we’re in a rather precarious position. Like any fandom, we are plagued with bad apples that end up painting the community’s face as a whole. You know the type of bad apples that all fandoms have: the overzealous stans that either attack those outside the community for not sharing a view or catering to our fandom. We also suffer from infighting/bullying between yandere fans because not everyone shares the same views on what a yandere is or even for something as stupid as a yandere headcanon for a character that never was a yandere, to begin with. But unlike most fandoms, the works that we support tend to go against us at times. That is to say... since we’re a bit of an under “funded” (e.g. don’t have enough yandere media. Especially for male yanderes) fandom, people tend to quickly put CrAzY characters on a pedestal without question. And this hurts our credibility, ALOT.  Having group within the fandom worshipping some non-yandere, psychotic girl as a yandere just because she’s kawaii while the more “sane” fans try to explain, “No, we swear yandere’s aren’t like that” doesn’t look good for our case. 

Is there anything we can do about people attacking us for our preference? Not exactly, I’m sorry to say. The moment humans gained self-awareness and free will, universal mental unity became a myth. There will always be a disconnect, even on concepts that all humans should be in agreement on. Would you believe me if I say that some people don’t believe that people should be allowed to have a livable wage? Of course, people will have their reasons as to why they think a certain way regardless if it sounds logical or not. Just because they have a reason doesn’t mean it’s reasonable but in a world where emotions is king, logical will never win.

People who attack you for liking yanderes most likely were victims of abuse and went through some sort of trauma that yanderes are usually identified/linked with. If they weren’t direct victims then they know someone who is a victim. And if it isn’t either of these two, then they’re most likely a bleeding heart with a “higher than thou” sense of morality. Regardless of the reasoning, they all have their hearts in the right places but rigid in their perspective of the world. Already, the decision is cemented and may never change. To most, we’re as egregious as pedophiles and incest-lovers just because we like villains. After all: “How in the world could anyone remotely ‘like’ such awful people?! Clearly, there is something wrong with THEM.” Of course, we have our reasons for liking yanderes but most people close their ears and eyes since they already judged us based on our interest. For those who were victims of abuse or know someone, I understand that they’re reaching out to attack those who seem to defend characters that may or may not be similar to their assailant/abuser. They attack, they defend invisible victims, and in a way, looking for purpose... looking at how they can turn their trauma into a positive. But most of the time, they overstep their boundaries and try to enforce their authority in something they don’t understand. 

The only way we can approach these types of people is to send an open invitation for a diplomatic talk in trying to reach a middle ground. While a change of opinion would be nice, it would be nearly impossible since a lot of people are grounded in their personal moral compass. If they are open for a conversation, then all hope is not lost. Ideally, if a conversation is open then the most important thing is to validate their emotions invested in this situation. 9 out of time 10, people are stubborn in an argument because they feel like they’re getting personally targeted either by their identity, their pride, or their emotions. Therefore, they double down and become louder in their argument, not because of their view but because they believe they are defending themselves. From there, once the other recognize that you aren’t attacking them, you shift the conversation onto yourself and point out how they were making you feel the same away but they were actively attacking you; not only that, treating you as less than human just because you prefer villainous FICTIONAL characters. Ideally, at this point, the other recognizes their hypocrisy and you both agree in staying in your own lanes. If by some miracle they’re open of a different perspective, then you’re given a platform to say why you like yanderes... typical reasons being the idea of unconditional love or coping. 

But this is all hypothetical and the most desirable outcome. But more than often, people are more than comfortable at screaming at you every time you try to open your mouth... most likely something they learned because someone shut them down in such a way. Not only that, they most likely formed their own counter-arguments already since a lot of yandere fans have the same reasons as to why they like yanderes: unconditional love or coping. The counter-argument can usually be boiled down to two reasons: unethical and risking future victims seeking a “yandere” partner. Ethicality... this is a low hanging fruit to argue. Everyone (well the majority of people, again it’s universally impossible to be on the same page) would agree that it’s bad to stalk a person. Even a yandere fan would say never to stalk a person IRL. But because of this, they think they got you in an “ethical checkmate”. It’s a cheap argument and they’re just trying to make you feel like a monster for your preferences in fictional characters. Funny enough, this is a tactic that abusers would use to shame their victim into compliance... hm...

The second counter-argument people use is “think of the youths!” Let’s be real... it’s scientifically proven that kids and teens are easily impressionable because of their underdeveloped brains and lack of experience. Not only the concerns of the younger members of society, they fear that by allowing us to enjoy our media, we are “normalizing” abusive relationships in society. Considering the state of the United State’s government, I understand where the fear is coming from. But they’re barking up the wrong tree and especially using the wrong method in preventing this dystopian future. I always see these people bring up the ‘Jaws’ case as to why there should be no yanderes and no support for them. You know, the case where there was a sudden increase in shark hunting due to public fear which pushed certain shark species into endangerment. It’s always this argument, I swear... anyways, they always toss this without never diving in deeper as to why this happened. 

Before Jaws, people didn’t know anything about sharks in general. There just wasn’t any interest in sharks because we humans just didn’t find time interesting at the time. They were there and we can’t really eat sharks. But, there were already tales about sharks being “man-eaters” from those stranded out at sea or curious citizens. The stereotype was already there. But Jaws brought sharks to the forefront of public scrutiny and shark hunting competitions came up because “what’s the harm? Sharks are man-eaters”. This dropped the shark population, but because of this there was an interest in sharks, funding to research them suddenly increased. Scientist turned their attention on sharks while later on fed to informing the public, making them educated and less scared of shark attacks. Jaws came out in 1975... Shark Week on the discovery channel came out in 1988... there’s a reason, folks. People became interested in sharks. Yes, Jaws hurt the shark population but it’s slowly been going up. Damage takes time to repair. But it also brought about awareness. While the stereotype isn’t dead (that’s just humans at this point and it’s always been a stereotype ever since man was on a boat), it opened a conversation. And that’s the key point here. (Here’s a link. But you can go even further if you research)

Abusive relationships, manipulative people, toxic actions... these are nothing new. “Getting rid” of yandere fans will not solve this issue, just like telling your kid “there are kids starving in Africa” will not end world hunger. For the Jaws example, I point to the argument that politicians make about how video games create violent people. We know that it’s nonsense, you know it’s nonsense. But there is a fear of the “unknown”. People back then thought that cartoons like Tom and Jerry would cause kids to grow up violent. And even further back, people thought that reading books created lazy people. The fear on what’s on TV is a fear people had since the beginning of time. People aren’t as soft as they believe they are but they can lack information... Instead of shutting down people and censor what goes on TV, use it as a stepping stone for the bigger conversation. It’s a lack of knowledge and fear of the unknown that killed the sharks but it is knowledge that is now protecting them. 

This is especially important for our younger peers. Raise of hands, who actually changed their minds as a teenager after someone called you stupid or told you “no” with giving a logical reason besides “because I say so.” I’m going to guess we got an empty room here. Attacking our younger peers or those who are older just because they like a character trope IS NOT HELPING THEM AND ESPECIALLY NOT MAKING THE ATTACKERS LOOK LIKE HEROES. THEY LOOK LIKE JACKASSES. Fuck man, the younger ones want acceptance and looking a supportive group by joining a fandom. Calling them toxic just pushes them to the edge these people never wanted them to be. The same applying to the older ones. We all got our issues and y’all never know what it is. That’s why I hate seeing people in our fandom gatekeep against our younger peers. They’re going to come in even though you say crap like “Lmaooo, my blog/game is 18+! Okay, byeeeee!” If you want to protect them then be their fucking guide, my dudes. You can have a mature conversation with them and explain the difference between fiction and reality and what’s wrong and right. “Yanderes are pretty cool, ay sport? But notice how that guy gaslighted the girl? That is a common tactic people do IRL. Be sure to recognize it as a red flag.” Fuck, is that so fucking hard for everyone? Some people act like they never grew on the internet during the early 2000s.Y’all were a teenager once. If what you’re doing wouldn’t help teenage you in the past, then you’re doing it wrong. Smh. 

Finally, I do want to make a point for those who use coping reasons. While I do understand where you’re coming from, you guys are our most vulnerable to these attacks but also the reason for the attacks as well. It’s the mindset of “How could you support something like this?! You must be a horrible person.” I know a lot of people aren’t like that but also, we got bad apples... people who take this for coping reasons way too far. To them, I ask them to come back from the edge and let’s look for help together. Using yanderes to embrace “yandere tendencies” or rationalizing your abuse as normal isn’t the way. Use it to help you breathe and help you feel grounded but don’t let it define you... especially don’t make it a lifeline. As for those who know the difference and can separate fiction from reality, I applaud you but you got some work in helping those who are too deep. I’ve seen some of the yandere Tumblr group chats on the app. I’ll be real... YIKES. It’s a bit of an echo chamber. I ended up having to message a user on a side since I saw red flags in the group chat when I was lurking. People were trying to give the wrong help by encouraging their actions. Just... don’t do this y’all. I get you relate but don’t get your homie in jail or a court date for a restraining order. 

Anyways, I’m sorry anon for pulling farther and farther away from you specifically since this is a big issue that everyone tackles and I’m also sorry that I can’t give you an “end all” answer. First, you can try having a civil conversation with these people. Try for the middle ground and if you feel like you can push further, then try to do a change of mind. But I know this is hard, especially when tensions build and emotions get heated. But it’s important to never explode that anger... or at least direct that anger into a logical response. The moment you explode and made an error of judgment, you will lose and suffer publically. If a conversation isn’t possible, then encourage these people to stay in their lane and unfollow you. Why the fuck are they following you if they hate the things you reblog? Sounds unhealthy... suggest some hobbies or blogs to follow instead. From there, if they try to continue the hate, just block them and delete the messages. As they say, don’t feed the trolls. Y’all may think you’ve seen all the hate anons we get but we get a lot more than what we answer. We just delete them because they’re typically incoherent or stupid. They don’t come back lol. 

From there, anon, surround yourself with people who you find agreeable and who you relate to. A lot of yandere blogs are down for a talk, I’ll be real. Just be sure you open up that you want to be friends lol. So... yeah. I’m sorry this isn’t perfect, but I hope it helps. Don’t be afraid of being yourself!

[illfoandillfie]

hi <3 can i have a general love reading? the persons name starts with a z if you need more info lol thank you sm :))

of course darl!

tarot: 9 of cups, 6 of cups/the lovers, 8 of swords, the fool, 2 of cups, 8 of pentacles, 6 of cups, 9 of wands

Okay so I’m definitely seeing a romantic connection. With so many cups cards appearing there’s no doubt this is more than just a physical attraction, there are deeper feelings involved. And starting with the 9 of cups over 2 of cups is a really good sign. The 9 of cups is about satisfaction and fulfilment and the 2 of cups is about partnership and unity. So this relationship would definitely be positive - mutually supportive, emotionally stable, successful, happy, passionate, loving, etc etc etc. 

The next card doubles as the 6 of cups - which is about nostalgia, happy memories and healing - and the lovers - obviously related to love and partnership. It’s clarified by the 8 of pentacles which is about apprenticeship, passion and high standards. You didn’t specify what sort of a connection you have with Z but to me these cards say that there could be a past connection between you - either you knew each other and lost contact and then reconnected and you’re wondering if there’s something more there, or you’ve been friends for a while or even have already been dating and are wondering about taking a next step with them. The 8 of pentacles definitely makes it feel like there is something new here, whether the relationship itself is new or you’re considering doing something you haven’t already like moving in together. But with that 6 of cups energy theres a familiarity too. It could also be a past-life connection if you’re into that sort of thing. Either way, the 8 of pentacles shows a willingness to put in the energy to make this work. It’s an ambitious card and shows that either you or they (or both of you) want this to work and probably have high standards you’d like to try and meet. 

In the next column we have the 6 of cups again under the 8 of swords. The 8 of swords is about feeling trapped or fearful, but by your own internal feelings rather than someone else’s actions. It’s not clear if you or they are feeling this uncertainty but theres definitely some fears to overcome. With that 6 of cups card it could be a worry about changing the friendship or how this next step could effect what you already have. Interestingly the 8 of swords can also speak of trauma and the 6 of cups can relate to healing so it might also be a case of previous relationship related pain/trust issues or childhood trauma effecting your present situation. Something is holding you (or them) back though.

Finally we have the fool and the 9 of wands. Now the fool is about taking the leap. He’s energetic and innocent and seeks out adventure. He doesn’t care about the consequences, just about the current moment. But here he’s being clarified by the 9 of wands which is a reminder to protect yourself. I think these cards together are serving as a bit of a warning to not rush into something. They’re telling you not to push yourself into something that scares you or that you feel uncertain about without thinking it through a bit first. The 9 of wands symbolises success after set backs and recovery so if it is a case of past relationship trauma effecting your current relationship this is a sign to take things slowly. Healing will come but you should take things at the right pace. If it’s just a case of uncertainty or anxiety then the message to go slow still stands. You don’t want to push yourself or your partner into something you aren’t comfortable with and end up getting hurt. The fool’s energy is all well and good until he walks off a cliff with no way to stop.

Now onto your oracles. 

You got 2 cards from the heart shaped deck: My Beloved - Though we may be physically apart, spiritually we are always united, for love transcends space and time. Nothing is missing. // Surrender - At times we must surrender the old before something new can enter our lives. Let go and all will work out. 

The My beloved card definitely speaks of a deep connection here. I didn’t get any messages in the tarot that indicated separation or distance but if that is a factor then that could be part of why this card appeared. The Surrender card on the other hand definitely feels like it connects with the 6 of cups cards - the idea of nostalgia or the past influencing the present. It seems to be encouraging you to let go of whatever this past influence is so you can release the 8 of swords energy and move forward. 

Then we have 2 romance angels cards: Give Your Relationship A Chance (work on your partnership) // Past-Life Relationship (you have known each other before). 

Past-Life Relationship definitely ties in with that 6 of cups energy. Like I said before this could be an actual past-life relationship if that’s your jam, but it could also just indicate a previous knowledge of each other or previous friendship. And then the Give Your Relationship A Chance card seems, again, to be encouraging you to put whatever worries you have behind you and see where this current relationship could go. It will require work, all relationships do, but this card indicates it will be worth it and with such strong cards as the 9 of cups and 2 of cups and the lovers appearing in the reading, I’d probably agree. 

For something a little sweet we have 2 ice cream oracles: Cookies and Cream (guilty pleasures/indulgence/temptation) and Pistachio (emotional healing/independence/responsibility) 

A few of these cards have made we wonder if the situation is at least partly related to sex and Cookies and Cream definitely adds to that. Of course, guilty pleasures and temptations can take numerous other forms though so it isn’t inherently sexual if that doesn’t resonate for you. Pistachio fits in well with the tarot cards that spoke of healing and it may be that this relationship could help you progress in recovering from something. 

And finally your love oracle is Ryan Gosling. This card has three pieces of advice (one related to one night stands, one about long term relationships and one about family/friends). I will include all three parts but you may find that some resonate more than others or that one in particular stands out to you. As with all of these cards, take whatever fits best and don’t try to force everything else to mean anything. If it doesn’t make sense, ignore it. 

Ryan Gosling says: Silence has more meaning than the words you don’t say // The hardest role to play is yourself // Don’t let someone else write your private life. 

To me that last one stands out. If you’re the one with doubts or fears regarding this connection you shouldn’t let Z try to push you to do something you aren’t comfortable with but, likewise, if Z is struggling with something and seems unwilling to take the next step you have to give them time and not try to force the situation. The Silence has more meaning bit could be advice to communicate - talk though the problems and figure out where you both stand and pay attention to what isn’t said as much as what is. 

[usertoxicyaoi]

What do you feel when you're praying?

hiiii anon!! oooooh. this is a really lovely question.

so, as muslims, we have different types of praying, like supplication or remembering Allah and the prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) through specific phrases, or reciting the Qur'aan. the most common one is the compulsory salah (we have non compulsory forms of it too such as praying salah when you're in desperate times of need or when entering the masjid [mosque] etc). we pray the compulsory prayer 5 times a day, at different time points. each prayer has different lengths, that we measure as raka'ats (units), so they take different lengths of time to pray:

fajr - the just before sunrise prayer. (4 units long).

dhuhr - the afternoon prayer. (12 units long).

asr - the late afternoon prayer. (8 units long).

maghrib - the sunset prayer. (7 units long).

isha - the night prayer. (17 units long).

so, depending on what time of the day it is, i feel different things. my favourite prayer is fajr. and thats simply bc i feel the most amount of peace at that time, bc everyone else is asleep and everything around me is so still and quiet and dark, and i feel my absolute vulnerable then, bc i can cry all i want and no one else apart from Allah knows. and after i finish praying, my heart and my entire body just feels so light? and i can see the sun come up and the sky change colour and hear the birds and its just ... an absolutely spiritual, divine moment. i feel so so so connected with Allah in that moment.

with the rest of the salahs, they become a reprieve from the day for me. its time that i set aside to constantly go back to Allah, take a break, and thank Him for everything He has given me. i feel humbled when i do sujood (where i am literally prostrating on the floor in front of Him). i remember how my entire existence is dependent upon Him and His command.

but i also feel such a sense of unity too with my other muslim brothers and sisters, even tho im praying by myself. bc when muslims pray, we pray facing the qiblah, the direction of the Kabah. and so even when i pray alone, i know that someone somewhere out there in the world is also praying their salah too at the same time as me, regardless of timezones. theres a real sense of community and unity in that. also, when you pray salah alone, the prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said that angels are praying on your left and right and behind you. so you're never really praying alone. your surrounded by angels.

and i think the entire ritual and act is marked so sacredly, when you hear the Adhan (call to prayer). so you just stop whatever you're doing, make ablution and go and pray. it really helps to just break your day down, and to go and speak to Allah, and communicate with Him, with all your burdens and anxieties. whats beautiful is that in salah, you're praising Him and thanking Him with sacred words, you dont even need to voice out your burdens and anxieties, bc Allah already knows whats in your heart.

and i cry so easily in salah. i think its always helpful to understand the words you pray, and bc i learnt exactly what i pray, the impact is 10 times harder. bc i know i sin, and i know i'm not good and i know i'm imperfect, and yet i'm talking to my Creator and praising and thanking Him bc i'm not worthy, not one bit, and i have no shame in acknowledging that, and yet He accepts me and my imperfections and shortcomings, present even in my acts of worship to Him too, and He sees me try and He gives and gives and gives to me from His mercy and love and bounty and forgiveness. i feel so so seen, despite however small and worthless i feel, bc here He is giving me 5 whole opportunities to go and speak to Him, every single day, scattered throughout the day, so i never feel alone. and i come out of that conversation with so much restored hope and faith and calmness.

and then when i read or listen to the qur'aan being recited? thats just. theres nothing like it. it moves and grounds me. theres so much to learn from it, so many stories and so much history and so much about what has happened and what will happen and so much description and its like a medicine to heal the soul. and when you understand what you read via translation, though it can never do full justice to the arabic text and language, still, theres so much insight and wisdom. yesterday i found this amazing video about why the qur'aan is a linguistic miracle from Allah, and, the more you learn about it, the more deeper your understanding and appreciation becomes.

so yeah, praying just. it refreshes and rejuvenates. it recalibrates and reinvigorates. it grounds and steadies me. i feel humble and peaceful yet hopeful and light hearted. its just ... a very spiritual experience, bc each action that i do in salah means something, whether thats me on the floor prostrating in front of Allah, laying down my pride or ego, or raising my hands to say Allahuakbar and folding them on my chest as a symbol to show that i'm pushing the world away and ive entered my conversation with Allah, or whether thats turning my face to the right and then the left and saying asaalaamualaikum warahmatullah to show ive ended my salah and conversation with Allah and i'm saying "may peace be upon you and the mercy of Allah" to whoever or whichever creation of Allah is around me (including the angels!) and i'm engaging back with the world again. each action signifies something and means something within that communication i have with Allah through prayer.

[itsclydebitches]

I was watching RWBY V6ep9, and Tyrian tells Emerald and Mercury something about plans changing - and then that if Ironwood comes to his senses and calls Vacuo for aid that all may be lost. Which, first of all, makes me wonder what Vacuo could possibly have that would defeat Salem - numbers? the most powerful Maiden? And now I just feel really bad about the rest of the Atlas arc bc apparently in canon Ironwood could have stopped this? idk how but I'm sure RWBY will let him know soon enough

Thank you! :D 

Hmm... given what we know I think it’s potentially less about what Vacuo specifically has and more that Vacuo is what’s left. The Fall of Beacon was a devastating blow to Vale and we saw in Volume 4 that although there was a lot of blame shifted on Atlas for failing to prevent the attack, the other kingdoms were also looking to them as a new leader, especially with Ozpin “dead.” Vale is no longer the power it once was. Mistral, we learned in Volume 5, isn’t much better off. If Ozpin and Ironwood are any indicators of a trend, the headmasters of each huntsmen academy are also akin to the kingdom’s overall leader (despite not being an official position)... and Lionheart was loyal to Salem. To say nothing of the whole list of huntsmen he helped kill off. As Clover makes it clear right before the Battle of Mantle, ordinary soldiers really can’t do too much against the more powerful grimm. They’re a decent first wave in a fight, but you 100% need the professionals to survive. Vale’s professionals, as far as we know, scattered to the wind when their school fell, a good chunk of them not fully trained. Mantle’s has largely been killed off. Who do you call then if you need backup? The one kingdom that’s remaining. Which isn’t to say that Vacuo necessarily has something super powerful that Ironwood willfully ignored, just that they’re the last untouched kingdom, so to speak. They’re the best potential support if we’re talking unification. 

Which, I continually feel the need to point out, Ironwood intended to do. To use Tyrian’s words, he came to his senses (very quickly) and chose unity over division. I don’t agree with the specifics---unifying through telling the world about Salem---but there was no doubt that he intended to contact what was left of the forces across Remnant, including Vacuo, and ask everyone to work together. That’s his plan and the intent of that FAR outweighs smaller divisions he’s created in his attempts to complete it (aka the embargo). I’ve noticed a lot of posts the last few days cheering over Ironwood’s presumed defeat because he’s the fool choosing division over unity... except we haven’t seen that at all this volume. Ironwood immediately shared everything with Team RWBY. He was open to communication with Robyn (during that conversation at the training facility he merely pointed out that reconciliation requires both of them to be on board). He makes nice with Jacques Schnee of all people in the interest of maintaining peace. He tells the council at Ruby and Oscar’s urging. He then goes a step further and tells Mantle all on his own. Time and time again Ironwood has chosen that unity, with the one exception being the diverted resources that caused Mantle to distrust him. But as we know, that was entirely in service of uniting the whole world. 

It’s only in the last hour of in-world time that Ironwood has shifted towards division.... and he has every right to. He just learned that while he was entirely open his supposed allies have been lying to him from the start (and given the Ozpin situation of Volume 6, every viewer should remember how horrific that betrayal supposedly is). He then figured out that not only have they been lying, but two of them deliberately sabotaged him and proved without a doubt that they could not be trusted to have his back. Then he’s faced with a situation where uniting Remnant as a means of defeating Salem is literally not possible. Not based on what anyone currently knows. Amity is not complete yet. It can’t be completed in the next half hour, or however long they have. They have to presume they don’t have long at all because of the perimeter being (potentially) taken out. And as for flying ships out for aid, Vacuo isn’t exactly nearby. 

“What would Mantle have done in the meantime?” ... die. Again, based on the characters’ current knowledge Team RWBY’s “plan” dooms Mantle just as much as Ironwood’s does. The difference is that Ironwood’s has the hope of saving everyone in Atlas, a decent chunk of Mantle’s population, two relics, and a Maiden. 

Ultimately, that really is a good way of putting it. Ironwood has the responsibility of acting whereas the group has the luxury of reacting. You need to fix the problem while we get to criticize the solutions you come up with. Which is precisely what we saw with Mantle: you bear the burden of taking their resources while we both simultaneously push you to finish Amity faster and demonize you for doing what’s necessary to complete that request. The group is really happy to let Ironwood get his hands dirty while they just yell about his choices, rather than coming up with something better, admitting they can’t come up with something better, and/or actually shouldering some of that burden themselves. Team RWBY is just really stuck in a rut of, “But your plan is evil” and ignoring Ironwood’s counter of, “Well your ‘plan’ dooms both Mantle and Atlas, so...” It comes down to active vs. passive interaction. Ironwood is willing to be active and make the horrifically hard call in order to hopefully keep the fight alive. Team RWBY would rather be passive, just face whatever happens to come their way, because they’re not capable of taking the tough, morally messy stances that Ozpin and Ironwood have. The stances that have ultimately kept the world turning for the last 1,000 years. Did Ozpin create a time of peace by literally standing his ground against unbeatable odds? No. He lied, kept secrets, made sacrifices, and frequently retreated. That’s what gave him the time and space to build things like the huntsmen academies, not “you never back down from a fight.” 

But you know it’s Team RWBY’s story so obviously the plot will keep twisting and turning to make sure their “plans” miraculously have the best outcomes, logic aside. That’s just inevitable at this point.