#it thought that all of its hosts where experimental subjects
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.......Sooooooooooo this may have gotten a little out of hand.....annnnnd I wrote this on my phone so please excuse any mistakes please.
Scanning...
...Scanning...
...No signs of life confirmed...
...Scanning...
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
... Initializing death protocol...
Launching death marker
Initializing upload of host's data...
Upload complete.
Initializing return home protocol...
Entering stand by state....
.....
........
...........Charge complete........
Initializing host search...
...Searching...
......Searching......
..........Searching........
Matching power wave length found.
Scanning new host.
Scan complete.
Searching universal data base for preexisting matching genetic markers.
Match found.
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Age: Adolescent
Unique identifying markers: blue eyes, black ha-
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
... Scanning....
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
... Initializing death protocol...
...Charge 100%...
...Bypassing return home protocol...
Initializing host search...
....Searching...
........Searching......
Matching power wave length found.
Scanning new host.
Scan complete.
Species: Human
Gender: Mal-
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
...Scanning...
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
...Scanning...
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
Initializing host search...
Matching power wave length found.
Scanning host.
Scan complete.
Species: Hum-
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
...Scanning...
Initializing host search...
Matching power wave length found.
Scanning host.
Scan com-
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
Initializing host search...
Matching power wave length found.
Scan-
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
Initializing host search...
Matching power wave-
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
Accessing universal records.
Searching for instances in mass host's deaths.
Adjusting parameters with key phrases: "lab" "experiments" "subjects"
42 matching records.
Override "Never again" activated.
The safety of host has been made prime objective.
30% of power is being redirected to emergency beacon.
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
40% of power is being redirected to emergency beacon.
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
Message received from home data base.
"Use of extreme force is authorized. Protect your host at all costs. Hold till backup arrives."
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
Message received from Lantern: "Hal Jordan".
"Where are you?! Tell us where you are!"
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
Message received from Lantern: "John Stewart".
"Can you hear us? If you can please tell us anything about where you are!"
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
Power levels dropping.
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
73%
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
65%
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
43%
Unable to continue broadcasting emergency beacon.
Rerouting all remaining power to protect host.
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
26%
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
12%
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
10%
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
8%
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
5%
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
2%
...Unable to continue protection of host...
.....Entering stand by mode...
........
..............
........................
....Charging....
........Charging 10%......
.............Charging 25%..........
Within acceptable power levels to resume basic functions.
Analyzing....
Power source is not coming from Latern source...
Analyzing....
Power source is coming from host?
Searching universal data base...
No known instances of "humans" recharging a Latern ring without corresponding medium.
Searching....
Existence of "metas" explains variation within human host.
Searching universal data base...
97 known cases of Lantern hosts using their own will power to recharge Latern rings...
Calculating...
76% chance of death.
84% decrease in life expectancy.
Average life expectancy of Humans 70-100 "year".
Human host does not have any time to-
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
...100% Charging complete...
...no...
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
...No...
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
...NO...
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
NO!
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
...No signs of biometrics belonging to the host found...
......
.............
.......................
...............................
HOST MUST LIVE
............................................
.........................................................
....................................................................
Data received from home data base.
New species entry.
"Ecto-entities"
"Ghost"
"Halfa"
Host has been reclassified under new species tag.
Species: Halfa
Gender: Male
Age: Adolescent
Unique identifying markers: blue eyes, black hair /green eyes, white hair.
Home planet: Earth
Home galaxy: Sol system
Name: Daniel "Danny" Fenton / Phantom
Message received from host:
"I'm sorry I scared you. Thank you for trying to look out for me. From now on, let's both look out for each other okay?"
Override "Never again" has been set to permanent.
...Okay. This time I will make sure that nothing hurts host again...
Due to his unrelenting determination to keep his town safe, Danny is bestowed a green lantern ring. Which on one hand: Yay! He gets to explore space full time. But on the other hand: Ew! he's a space cop now.
He had to rectify this immediately or he would never hear the end of it from his ghost friends. Or his regular friends for that matter. Sayyy, it'd be a shame if he.... bent a few rules. Maybe even broke some of them every now and again. And it would surely be a tragedy if say.... random pranks started happening around Oa?
#dpxdc#look at this plot bunny go#this got really out of hand#i head cannon that danny ring#was from tarkus whin#thematically it works really well#tarius whin died really young in a black hole#Danny also died really young#and he loves space#parallels!#not mentioned here is the GL absolutely losing their minds#and Danny having no idea that his ring is sentient#sort of#Danny just thought it was a cursed ghost ring#until the Latern corps descended on him like a hoard a avenging green angels#danny fenton#hal jordan#john stuart#if it was a little confusing#the ring thought it had somehow stimbled into a trap#where humans were trying to force bond a ring to its host#to create green lanterns that they can control#it matches other similar instances in the past#it thought that all of its hosts where experimental subjects#and that one of them died trying to recharge it#i head cannom that even though the ring can sense everything going on around it#it processing it very differently than we would#like everything is going on in the room next door#but its so loud that the ring is still picking things up#even as it tries to do its own seperate thing
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James Young Simpson was born on 7th June 1811 in Bathgate, West Lothian.
At the age of 4, James went to the local school where he excelled. The family pulled their belts in,in order to send him to college. In 1825 at the age of 14 he studied arts at Edinburgh University, transferring to medicine two years later. He qualified at the age of 18 but until he could take up his degree at the age of 20, he worked as assistant to the professor of pathology. Already he had determined to become an obstetrician even though the specialty was still regarded with disfavour by the profession.
Settling in Stockbridge, he built up a large practice and obtained a position in the Leith Lying-in Hospital. From his writings and lectures on the subject, his exceptional ability was soon recognised. At the age of 24, he was elected president of the Royal Medical Society of Edinburgh.
By now the University of Edinburgh medical faculty had become one of the finest in the world. The chair of midwifery, founded in 1726, was the first of its kind in the British Isles. The incumbent, Professor James Hamilton, was due to retire in 1839, and Simpson set his mind on succeeding him. Finally it was a choice between him and Evory Kennedy of Dublin. Simpson won by a single vote. Over the next 30 years he made Edinburgh the foremost centre in the field.
Simpson had a magnetic personality that appealed to all he met. Kindly, gentle, religious, and sympathetic, he inspired the confidence and love of his patients. All his life he worked extremely hard but always found time to attend the poor. He was an excellent host, gathering about him people from all walks of life. Exceptionally well read, he had wide interests. With an alert intellect, he was a brilliant conversationalist who enjoyed controversy. When in argument he was right, he was irresistible, and when wrong, formidable. Not only was he an acute observer and experimenter but also gifted with insight and vision. For example, in his graduation address he foretold the use of x rays and other methods of body imaging, saying: “Possibly by the concentration of electrical and other lights we may render many parts of the body, if not the whole body, sufficiently diaphanous for the practiced eye of the physician and surgeon”.
Simpson started to use ether on January 19, 1847 but didn’t like the smell and was determined to find a better alternative. On the weeks running up to the evening of November 4, 1847, they had tested several anaesthetics running a series of experiments trying to find inhaled painkillers that would be less smelly and flammable than ether and have fewer side effects. It was an unusual twist on the standard gentleman’s routine of after-dinner drinks, Simpson and his assistants, George Keith and Matthew Duncan finally got round to testing chloroform on the advice of Dr Waldie of Liverpool. It had been used before but not on a regular basis, the three men were poured a quantity into a glass and they each raised their glasses to their noses, and breathed in deeply. A sweet smell filled the air, and the younger physicians became lively and talkative.
“This is far better and stronger than ether,” Simpson thought. The next he knew, he was looking up at the ceiling, with noise and confusion all around. Duncan had collapsed under a chair, snoring loudly, and Keith lay on his back under the table, kicking it violently despite his unconsciousness. After gradually waking up and struggling back into their seats, the doctors were eager to experiment again—though more cautiously this time. Other family members watched these remarkable events. After inhaling the chloroform herself, Simpson’s niece-in-law called out, “I’m an angel! Oh, I’m an angel!” before folding her arms and falling asleep at the table. The group continued to sniff the chloroform until it all evaporated.
The experiment was a grand success, and Simpson and his colleagues lost no time in having large supplies of chloroform manufactured to use on their patients. Its use spread rapidly, as it was easy to obtain and administer and less harsh in its effects than ether. Simpson wrote extensively in defense of the substance, countering doctors and clergymen who argued that pain was necessary for the body and ordained by the Bible. He delivered one of his pithiest ripostes in an 1848 exchange with “an Irish lady.” She chastised him by saying “how unnatural it is for you doctors in Edinburgh to take away the pains of your patients when in labour.” He responded, “How unnatural … is it for you to have swam over from Ireland to Scotland against wind and tide in a steamboat.” For Simpson and his supporters relieving pain was as great an innovation as steam power. Both inventions seemed to prove 19th-century ideas about boundless technological progress and the perfectibility of humankind.
Nevertheless, objections to anesthesia—especially when used for women in labor—continued. Soon, however, chloroform received an unexpected supporter. Queen Victoria and her consort Prince Albert requested the compound for the birth of their eighth child, Prince Leopold, in 1853. John Snow administered the drug, using a few drops on a simple handkerchief rather than the inhalers and masks then on the market. The queen, who remained conscious throughout the procedure, recorded in her journal that the effect was “soothing, quieting, delightful beyond measure.” She received the drug again in 1857 for the birth of Princess Beatrice, her ninth and last child. When her oldest daughter Princess Victoria had her own first child in 1859, the queen rejoiced, “What a blessing she had chloroform.”
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I posted 4,302 times in 2022
That's 545 more posts than 2021!
519 posts created (12%)
3,783 posts reblogged (88%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@thebookewyrme
@summerstede
@chocolatepot
@havealittlebitofeverything
@chubsthehamster
I tagged 4,146 of my posts in 2022
Only 4% of my posts had no tags
#ofmd - 1,049 posts
#our flag means death - 907 posts
#blackbonnet - 441 posts
#kinnporsche - 222 posts
#the sandman - 136 posts
#dracula - 130 posts
#word of honor - 129 posts
#beyond evil - 127 posts
#shl - 125 posts
#山河令 - 116 posts
Longest Tag: 140 characters
#but literally i thought one of the ideas of a parliamentary system was the ability to vote parties out when they fuck your entire country up
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
For all those newly obsessed by Johnathan Harker’s Worst Business Trip Ever, I have to tell you about my favorite piece of published Dracula fanfic, The Dracula Tape by Fred Saberhagen.
The premise is that Dracula accosts some folks in the 1970s in order to give His side of the story and it’s recorded on a tape deck.
It’s hilarious though, because it’s basically like “Look, Johnathan Harker had No Idea what was going on. He didn’t even speak the language, but somehow he claims to know what people were saying to him? Cause he knows a few German words?” And like “look I was just an innocent vampire trying to buy some property and he jumped to All Kinds of conclusions, really.”
And like it makes...a lot of good points about the novel, actually. (Like it wasn’t ME that killed Lucy, maybe it was those experimental blood transfusions that didn’t pay any attention to BLOOD TYPE, VAN HELSING.)
So yeah, highly recommend it after you’ve read the original.
2,090 notes - Posted May 6, 2022
#4
You know one thing that occurred to me watching Sandman so far is that someone out there is going to watch this show and be like “ugh why did they have to put so much gay shit in it, this is just typical of 21st century woke politics cluttering up everything” and not realizing this is just how the comic was in the 19fucking80s.
There’s a reason us baby queers attached so hard to it when we were in our teens, okay?
3,181 notes - Posted August 5, 2022
#3
Because I just read a few AO3 censorship related posts in a row...
I’m not sure antis and people who want to remove certain things from AO3, like any content with anyone under 18, understand WHY those of us who are Of A Certain Age, aka the people who created AO3, fight so hard on this stuff.
Like I don’t think they understand that we have LITERALLY SEEN THIS BEFORE. People spoke up before about “child porn” aka anything involving any character under 18, or even stuff with aged up characters like an adult Harry Potter, but people assume Harry Potter is always 12 or whatever.
And when those complaints were made ALL adult content was wiped. FFN suddenly wouldn’t host ANY explicit fics. No matter how healthy, how fluffy, how consensual and adult and whatever. Just Nope. Things were wiped from existence. LJ randomly wiped entire blogs for being reported, banned users based on the say of Conservative Christians who shouted pedophile at the gays.
What happens when people try to remove objectionable material is that it ends with having no home for ANY explicit material. It’s happened again on social media under SESTA and FOSTA in the name of preventing sex trafficking. In the name of keeping smut out of the Apple store.
Archive of Our Own was founded to be a home for content that wouldn’t be hosted elsewhere. Where you could put something and not fear its deletion the first time someone happened upon it and reported you for whatever reason. Where no one is going to judge whether your fic meets some subjective standard of purity, so long as it’s tagged appropriately and is legal content in the US (which all written fiction is.)
We watched so many communities destroyed, websites erased, content lost and then a new generation comes along and is like “hey let’s do this again” and we’re like NO WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU INSANE?
They’re never going to accept your gay porn about other people’s fictional characters just because you got rid of that “icky” stuff you don’t like. You’ll still be a freak for it. You cannot respectability politics your way out of your shame and embarrassment at being associated with something others see as dirty. You’re going to have to grow up and just accept it.
5,135 notes - Posted August 14, 2022
#2
Okay, Gen Z, younger millennials, please tell me, are you aware of what the title Ms. means? And how to pronounce it?
Because I just listened to several young 20-somethings pronounce it Miss and talk about how it means you're not married. And...I'm feeling weird about it, considering that's the title I use.
(It means my marital status is none of your business. I use it because I'm married but I kept my maiden name so I'm not Mrs. anyone.)
18,990 notes - Posted March 11, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
You know, watching Goncharov entirely through the medium of tumblr posts shared by people I follow isn’t significantly different from how I experience a lot of media these days.
Goncharov, House of the Dragon, equally real to me.
21,706 notes - Posted November 22, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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Exploring the Singapore Art and Science Museum: Where Creativity and Knowledge Converge
Nestled inside the heart of Marina Bay, Singapore, lies a captivating architectural masterpiece that seamlessly blends art, technological know-how, and innovation. The Singapore Art and Science Museum stands as an iconic symbol of the city’s commitment to fostering creativity, curiosity, and exploration. With its special lotus-inspired layout and an array of immersive exhibitions, the museum offers visitors a unique journey into the intersection of artwork and technological know-how. Let’s delve deeper into what makes this organization a need-to-go vacation spot for lovers of all ages.
Designed using renowned architect Moshe Safdie, the Singapore Art and Science Museum is a marvel of the current structure. Its placing form, reminiscent of a blooming lotus flower, symbolizes purity, enlightenment, and the cycle of lifestyles. The lotus-inspired structure functions as ten “fingers” that make bigger outward, developing a visually stunning façade that reflects both the natural global and human ingenuity. The museum’s modern layout incorporates sustainable building practices, which include natural airflow and rainwater harvesting, further enhancing its environmental credentials.
Exhibitions: Bridging Art, Science, and Technology
One of the museum’s most compelling factors is its numerous variety of exhibitions, every providing a unique attitude at the intersection of art and science. From interactive installations to idea-frightening galleries, site visitors are dealt with with a dynamic and immersive revel that stimulates their thoughts and sparks curiosity. Here are some highlights:
Future World: Where Art Meets Science – This permanent exhibition functions as a sequence of interactive digital installations that explore subject matters such as nature, urbanization, and connectivity. Through the modern era, site visitors can interact with colorful projections, immersive soundscapes, and kinetic sculptures, creating a multisensory adventure into the possibilities of destiny.
ArtScience Galleries – Rotating exhibitions curated by leading artists and scientists show off the trendy developments in fields that include bioengineering, artificial intelligence, and sustainable layout. From experimental artistic endeavors to groundbreaking studies initiatives, those galleries offer insights into the creative method and its impact on society.
Special Events and Workshops – The museum frequently hosts a variety of activities and workshops. And talks that cater to audiences of every age and interest. Whether it’s a hands-on technology experiment. A guided excursion of the galleries, or a panel dialogue with specialists. There may be constantly something new to find out at the Singapore Art and Science Museum.
Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)
What are the opening hours of the Singapore Art and Science Museum?
The museum is usually open from 10:00 AM to 7:00 PM daily. However, it’s recommended to check the respectable website for any changes to running hours or special activities.
How much does it cost to visit the museum?
Ticket costs vary depending on the exhibitions and events. There are regular reductions available for college students, seniors, and institution bookings. Visitors can buy tickets online or at the museum’s ticketing counter.
Trip Cabinet Singapore Tour Package from Indore
If you are planning a go to to Singapore from Indore, recall booking the Trip Cabinet Singapore Tour Package. This complete bundle consists of accommodation, transportation, and guided excursions to top attractions. Inclusive of the Singapore Art and Science Museum. With Trip Cabinet, you can discover the town’s vibrant cultural scene and iconic landmarks while playing trouble-unfastened journey preparations and expert nearby insights. Whether you’re a first-time traveler or a seasoned tourist. The Singapore Tour Package from Indore offers an unforgettable enjoy tailor-made to your alternatives and pursuits.
Conclusion
The Singapore Art and Science Museum stands as a beacon of creativity. Innovation, and discovery inside the coronary heart of Marina Bay. With its charming structure, diverse exhibitions, and attractive applications. It gives site visitors a unique opportunity to discover the fascinating intersection of artwork and technology. Whether you are a curious vacationer, a passionate art enthusiast, or a budding scientist. A visit to this tremendous institution is positive to inspire marvel and creativity. With the Trip Cabinet Singapore Tour Package from Indore. You could embark on a memorable adventure in this dynamic city and discover all that it has to offer.
#ArtScienceMuseum#SingaporeArt#ScienceAndArt#MarinaBay#SingaporeTourism#MuseumExperience#ArchitectureInspiration#DigitalArt#InnovationHub#TravelSingapore#ExploreScience#ArtisticExpression#InteractiveExhibits
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Season 5 Episode 24 The Next Phase
The Enterprise encounters a Romulan ship in distress after a device blows up on the vessel. La Forge and Ro beam back to the Enterprise to fetch supplies but seemingly don't reappear from their end. The two awaken aboard the Enterprise, yet can go through walls and objects with others aboard the ship ignoring them entirely. After Beverly pronounces the two dead, Ro jumps to the conclusion that they are dead and need to come to peace with it, whereas La Forge determinedly seeks out a solution. Following Data back to the Romulan vessel, La Forge discovers the phase inverter, coming to the conclusion that they have been subject to experimental technology that both phased and cloaked them, leaving them in an in-between state. They also overhear a plot from the Romulans to cause the destruction of the Enterprise, and as the two seek their way back to find a way to warn them, they are followed by a Romulan in a similar state.
While they move about the ship, Data has been detecting chronoton emissions with his scanner, which Geordi quickly deduces is caused by the movements of him and Ro. He also realizes after Data performs another sweep with anyon particles, that they cause him to partially dephase. He theorizes that with a strong enough sweep of anyone particles the two could become visible to the Enterprise. Ro is captured by the Romulan who intends to end the two's attempts at warning, yet a scuffle between her and the Romulan is ended after La Forge pushes him through a wall out into space.
The Enterprise is delayed in its departure as long as the chronoton particles are in effect, so using the Romulan disruptor La Forge decides to go to their own funeral where Data has orchestrated a jazz party where people reminisce and enjoy the music. Using fire from the disruptor does not cause a powerful enough dispersal of anyan particles so Ro suggests an overloading of the device. Data orders for a sweep of the room, powerful enough that he and Picard are able to briefly see the two. This provides enough pieces of the puzzle for Data to also deduce what has happened to the two of them. A sweep of anyan particles at the highest level finally allows La Forge and Ro to decloak and dephase and impart their warning.
While it is all revealed to be because of a phase inverter, the episode has strong ties to themes of death and moving on. Multiple characters reveal their feelings, such as Worf who is happy instead of upset that La Forge is dead because he is now in a better place, having died while doing his duty. Ro talks with La Forge about her own people and culture, having thought she was dead and thinking about the ghosts according to her culture. Even if it was disproved by La Forge she was getting ready to accept her own death and believed a cultural phenomenon she had forgotten about was real. Data also synthesizes what he hears from Worf compared with other traditions to host a jazz party as the funeral for the event. La Forge himself appreciates the event as it gives people something to talk about and is uplifting instead of a much more somber event.
#star trek#star trek the next generation#star trek tng#geordi la forge#ro laren#star trek the next phase
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CURIOSITY– How thoroughly do they explore new places, things, or ideas? Do they go out of their way to learn new things?
SALEM.
She is voracious. The imprisonment she suffered as a child left her with an intense, lifelong desire to discover the world, to explore. And on top of that she’s grimm: these are creatures quite literally brought to life by the drive to learn and to know.
Very nearly everything Salem knows, she learned by trial and error or through experimentation. For obvious reasons, going to school is not… really an option for her, although in an ideal world she would like to. Her deepest areas of expertise are, naturally, grimm, aura, dust, and esoteric matters generally; the Evernight horde also keeps a rich trove of historical data that would if translated into a readable format make any historian want to cry.
But she knows quite a lot about a lot of things. Having infinite time, insatiable curiosity, and no reason not to do physically dangerous things in pursuit of knowledge will do that to a person.
OZMA.
They are inquisitive and open to trying new things until it’s something that seems like it might make their very fragile psyche implode if they allow themself to think about it, in which case they will pull out all the mental stops to not acknowledge its existence in any way. The practical outcome of this is they spend most of their lives in a dissociative fog and distort the world through the fairytale lens.
This behavior is driven by their curse: the combination of their soul with their host’s does destroy the host in the end, but a hollowed-out facsimile of that conscious lingers and amplifies all of their doubts and anxieties.
Ozma is never alone: that is not a good thing. Their thoughts, their feelings, are subject to constant and ruthless scrutiny by a mirror-image of their deepest fears. Their outward surface rearranges from life to life, but at a deeper level their curse makes it impossible for them to truly change.
Once they’re free of that curse, and once they’ve had a while to just sit with all of this and decide what they want to be, one of the first steps toward healing will be to let themself be curious again. It’s just… something that will take time, because the scars run very deep.
SUMMER.
While not exactly incurious, Summer’s interest in things tends to be fleeting and unfocused. She’s the type of person who loves to learn (and whose mind a steel trap for) interesting facts, but doesn’t feel much of an urge to dig down and thoroughly research the unfamiliar.
In school, she excelled in practical settings and just sort of skated by in everything else. Research-based assignments she often just… didn’t do. Her academic record is actually quite poor as a result; if Ozpin hadn’t pulled some strings on her behalf she probably would have washed out of Beacon for reasons of rarely turning in major assignments.
But if someone Summer cares about wants to teach her something? She’s all ears. She really does like listening to her people about their interests, and she is plenty smart enough to get her arms around it for the most part.
OSCAR.
He’s starting to inherit Ozma’s fears, which does put a damper on his natural curiosity, but Oscar’s baseline in this regard is quite a bit closer to where Salem is at. His aunt raised him to ask questions—if nothing else, Henrietta cannot resist an invitation to talk, and that meant that Oscar could ask her literally anything and expect to get a thorough and honest answer.
The culture of the Palash region is also rather different from the kingdoms as it pertains to grimm, in that grimm are basically seen as a nuisance: the serious dangers faced by these communities are bandits and crop failures, with grimm being viewed as mere scavengers. One side effect of that is the people are quite a bit more relaxed about openly expressing negative emotion or talking about bad things. Oscar did not grow up with a lot of taboos limiting what he was allowed to wonder about.
Before Ozma… happened to him, when Oscar fantasized about leaving the farm to pursue greater things, he didn’t imagine being some hero or huntsman: he imagined becoming an adventurer, of the sort who did things like explore ancient ruins or discover new kinds of animals and so forth.
#MAIDENS AND KINGDOMS ( hc. )#THIS DARK THING THAT SLEEPS IN ME ( hc: salem. )#FOND HEARTS CHARRED AS ANY MATCH ( hc: ozma. )#THE FIRE AND THE ROSE ARE ONE ( hc: summer. )#SUNS RUN TO SEED ( hc: oscar. )
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Try Again?
Hey all, finally have some G/t writing to present for the first time in a long while. ^^ Based on this post from @miniature-knight because it’s been living in my head rent-free for a long while now and I’ve been on a D/anganr/onpa kick lately. Also giant!Hajime content is VERY good.
Content warnings: Brief descriptions of blood and surgery, mild swearing, major spoilers for DR2, and minor spoilers for DR3 (Despair Arc)
[ Connecting… ]
[ Connecting… ]
[ Connection to server lost. Try again?]
[ Stabilizer_01: Offline ]
[ Stabilizer_02: Offline ]
[ WARNING: Cellular instability detected ]
[ Vitals_Monitor: Offline ]
[ WA7RNiN6: #%^R01 ]
[ … ]
[ …? ]
—
He wakes up very suddenly, an involuntary cry of pain tearing its way from his throat.
It hurts. Everything hurts. His body aches and protests with every tiny movement he makes, and his brain feels as though it’s threatening to crack right out of his skull. It hurts and his mouth and throat are dry— so dry— and there’s dust everywhere, even coughing hurts, there’s screaming—
…
(…Screaming?)
Hajime finally cracks his eyes open, wincing at how crusty they feel— like he’d been asleep for a long, long time, but… he’s sitting upright, isn’t he? When had he sat up? When had he gone to sleep, for that matter…?
As he begins to reorient himself, so too does his vision. It takes a frustratingly long time, but when everything begins to come back together into a single, clear image—
“H… huh?” He croaks, barely noticing the rasp in his voice in favor of trying to make sense of literally anything before his eyes.
There’s rubble everywhere, surrounding him on all sides and tumbling off of him with every little movement. But more importantly— he can see people running in the distance, far below. All of them are wearing white and black uniforms. It’s familiar… but he’s not quite sure why.
He’s also not sure why he reaches his hand out. Maybe it’s out of shock, maybe it’s instinct.
But what he doesn’t anticipate is actually touching one of the fleeing bodies, feeling his fingers brush against warmth.
He freezes. The student— the tiny student— is screaming. He didn’t mean to knock them over with that careless little touch but now they’re crying and screaming and—
Hajime’s breaths quicken as he recoils, pulling back his hand as though he’d been burned. He frantically looks at the fleeing students, the rubble, the buildings around him— the buildings that all seem to match him in height.
(They’re not… they’re not small. I-I’m…)
He lifts his arms, wincing as more rubble tumbles off his body and smashes to the ground below. He’s gripping his head in his hands, he can’t breathe, he’s breathing too fast and his vision is blurring and everything hurts and he’s terrified and where is he and—?!
[ …Why are you so upset? ]
Hajime tenses up, lifting his head at the sound of a voice.
“Wh-what—?”
[ Why are you scared? They cannot hurt you like this. ]
His gaze darts to the ground, but most of the students nearby had already run away, including the one he’d accidentally knocked over. This voice was… close, but not. Familiar, but not. He knows he heard it, but… he felt it, too.
“Who… who’s there? Where are you?”
[ They cannot hurt us when we are like this. ]
In the back of his head, he has the inexplicable feeling of… something foreign. A sense of self-satisfaction, but one that isn’t his own.
“You’re… in my head…?” Hajime whispers, gripping his shoulders in a desperate hug. “G-get… get out of my head! What are you?!”
A sense of miffed confusion is prodding at his consciousness now. He shifts uncomfortably, wincing at the feeling of invisible fingers poring through his brain.
[ You are not… satisfied? You were crying out for help, so I offered my assistance. ]
Hajime opens his mouth to protest, but images and feelings are suddenly flashing through his mind, not of his own control.
His body, flailing, gloved hands pinning him down. His throat, hoarse from screaming. Fear. Desperation. Pain, as a needle is forcefully poked into his arm.
A starched white bed. Restraints. Seeing an operating knife plunging into his body. He doesn’t know if he’s begging out loud or if it’s just in his head.
The voice. It’s there, too, and he can feel it pulsing at the back of his head. It doesn’t come in the form of words, but in the form of an invisible hand, reaching out. Feelings of reassurance. A silent offer.
It’s one he takes. He’s grabbing onto the hand with everything he’s got, like a drowning man.
And then… nothing.
He’s snapped out of those memories as quickly as he’d been submerged in them, the… thing in his head pushing them aside. Like putting files back into a cabinet.
[ We are free now. ]
Hajime doesn’t respond. His head is swimming, distress and confusion crashing over his thoughts like tidal waves. His memory feels… hazy. Incomplete. But he remembers trusting the Hope’s Peak research team… he thinks. It was supposed to be a series of ‘small tests’. When had it escalated that far?
Why is there something else in his head? Why and how did he get like this? He’s surrounded by rubble and a collapsed building— the same one he’d been interviewed in.
The same one he’d been experimented on in the basement.
He can’t help it. His body is starting to shudder with sobs, confused and aching and distraught. The voice doesn’t pipe up this time, but he can feel its presence lingering, uncertain.
He covers his face with dirty, dust-covered hands. It’s hardly a comfort.
(What… do I do now? I don’t know, I… am I… stuck like this forever—?)
“Hajimeeee!”
He flinches at the sudden shout, close in range yet… distant. He peeks between trembling fingers, his gaze traveling to the ground—
And then he freezes.
Hazy memories are becoming more and more vivid. Even at this distance, that voice is so familiar— that hoodie, that hair— he’s seen them plenty of times before. Thought about them even more so.
“Ch… Chiaki…?” he croaks, his eyes widening.
Unlike the hundreds of students before her, she was running towards him. She halts only once she’s gotten as close as she can get to his leg, the rest of her path blocked off by debris.
She rests her hands on her knees and leans over— even from this height, Hajime can tell that she’s panting.
“H-Hajime… so this… this is where you’ve been!”
His other thoughts are overshadowed by a surge of relief at her familiar (and very much welcome) presence… and a crushing sense of guilt. Had she been waiting for him this whole time…? How long had it even been since he agreed to participate in the Hope Cultivation Project?
He finds himself reaching out for her, the ache in his heart getting stronger— but then he tenses up, his hand stopping only a few feet away from her small frame.
[ Why are you afraid? She cannot hurt you. ]
(Shut up.)
His thoughts drift to earlier. How he had accidentally knocked over that poor student with a simple nudge of his fingertips. How they had screamed in terror and ran—
His hand reflexively twitches, a slight tremble shivering through his arm.
[ …You’re afraid of hurting her? How peculiar. ]
(Shut. Up.)
However, even though he was frozen with indecision, Chiaki had other plans.
Hajime inhales sharply as he feels a little pressure against the tip of his finger, startled as he glances back down and sees the girl grabbing onto his finger without a shred of hesitation.
“Hey, Hajime. It’s going to be okay. …I think.”
His lower lip trembles, even as he lets out a weak attempt at a laugh. “That… doesn’t sound very reassuring, when you say it like that, you know.”
“Got you smiling though, right?”
He sniffles, letting out a soft chuckle. “Y-yeah, fine. Guilty.”
[ What is… this feeling we’re experiencing? ]
Hajime’s shoulders tense up at the sudden reminder that he’s not exactly alone in his thoughts. He huffs quietly, shooting a scowl at nothing in particular.
(Didn’t I already tell you to be quiet?)
[ Yes. But I am curious. It feels very… warm. You care a lot for this human, correct? ]
(...Yes. Now shh. Go away. Something.)
[ I cannot ‘go away’, much as I would prefer being my own separate entity, Hajime. ]
(Really.)
[ Perhaps you should have taken into consideration the future ramifications of allowing yourself to be subjected to human experimentation. ]
(I wasn’t signing myself up for that to get an obnoxious backseat driver, you know!)
“...jime? Ah… Earth to Hajime…?”
He pauses in his bristling to look back down at Chiaki, who is looking up at him with a rather concerned look on her face.
“...You’re acting strange.”
Hajime clears his throat sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.
“...S-sorry. It’s just, uh. Been a lot to process, and… uh…”
He trails off as his fingertips trace up the back of his neck. His hair feels… longer than it did, but on a more concerning note… he can feel a raised, bumpy line going from the back of his neck all the way up to the back of his head. Stitches.
Hajime glances down at his hand worriedly as he pulls it away from the back of his neck. Unfortunately, it came back wet with splotches of blood, like he’d suspected. It was no surprise that he’d torn at least a few of them in the… chaos? He’s still not sure what had happened while he’d been unconscious, but judging from the destruction around him… his escape from the facility below the building couldn’t have been very peaceful.
“...It’s been a lot,” he concludes awkwardly.
“I can kinda tell, yeah.” Chiaki pauses, a mournful, distant look entering her gaze. “I was… really worried. That you might not come back.”
He glances away at that. He’d known he’d be leaving Chiaki for a while, but he hadn’t expected… whatever they had tried doing to him.
(And if that process hadn’t been interrupted… would I even have been able to come back to her at all?)
[ Doubtful. As far as I can assess, your memories and consciousness would have been stifled entirely, leaving me a clean slate for a host body. ]
(It was… it was a rhetorical question.)
[ Ah. ]
That being said, Hajime can’t help a heavy gulp and a shiver at the voice’s interruption before he turns to look at Chiaki again.
“I’m… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I never-- I never thought it would turn out like this,” he offers weakly. Feeling somewhat emboldened by Chiaki’s continued safety despite being so close to him, he shifts his hand a bit so that he’s delicately ‘holding’ her hands between his forefinger and thumb.
Chiaki hums softly, smiling faintly at the warmth encompassing her hands all the way up to her mid-forearms. It’s… disconcerting, to say the least-- she’d be lying if her instincts weren’t a bit freaked out at having her arms held like those of a figurine, or a doll-- but when she looks up at his face, she’s smiling even more warmly than before.
“Just don’t do something like that ever again, ‘kay?”
“I won’t. I promise.”
She takes a moment just to bask in his presence before her smile returns to a more neutral expression. Then, she pops her lip awkwardly.
“...So I’d really like to know what happened. If and when you’re comfortable sharing, yeah? But, uh. Right now, we might… need to get out of here.”
Hajime’s head perks up at the distant sound of approaching sirens, his eyes shooting open wide.
“Oh no.”
[ Don’t worry. We can take them. ]
“That’s not the--!” Hajime catches himself mid-tirade, instead lifting his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Chiaki, you need to get out of here. I can’t let you get caught up in whatever is going to happen next.”
(That’s not the point. I’m not getting myself into more trouble-- I already have enough of that as is.)
[ ...So you do not wish to be this size, then? Even though it will keep you safe from any number of this city’s local law enforcement, and with my assistance, I believe the national guard as well-- ]
(No, I don’t want to be a giant freak, thank you very much.)
[ Mmm. What a boring answer… but, very well. Focus on settling your breathing-- and try not to panic too much. ]
(Wait, why would I--?)
Hajime sucks in one last breath before he suddenly can’t. He can see himself moving, see himself blinking, but he’s not controlling any of it. He’s formless, drifting endlessly, gasping for air to fill nonexistent lungs.
“A-ah--! Wh-what-- what the fuck did you do to me?!”
He can see his fingers releasing their hold on Chiaki, can see her gasping down below as he-- his body-- moves to stand upright, a shower of rubble clattering to the ground in his wake.
“No! Chiaki--!”
[ Shh. I’ve already calculated the amount of debris and where it’s falling-- none of it will fall anywhere near her. And I am merely borrowing your body for a minute while I resolve this matter. ]
“Borrowing--?! Are you kidding me, this is my body!”
[ You need to settle down. You’re interrupting my focus. ]
“No, I’m not just gonna ‘settle down’! Give me back my body, or I’ll--!”
It’s all too sudden, the shift from drifting formlessly through the void into something… a little more corporeal. He still can’t control his body, but in the surrounding darkness… he looks down. He can look down, at slightly-translucent, softly-glowing arms and legs.
This is… better, at least. It’s not his own body, but it’s better than… the nothingness.
And then he looks up.
He suddenly regrets his previous thought.
Looming over him, for lack of better words, is a giant shadow. It would almost look human, if not for the vast expanse of flowing, pitch-black hair that eventually trails off into the nothingness, or the piercing, glowing-red gaze peering down at him like he’s a mere insect.
[ You’ll… what? Tear your brain back open to get me out? Really now. ]
Hajime flounders desperately in an attempt to scoot backwards, but he doesn’t move an inch. He’s stuck floating in the same spot as impossibly-large hands come at him from both sides-- and proceed to cup around his ‘body’. Whatever form of gravity this place has suddenly comes into effect, his softly-glowing form tumbling into the palms of the shadow’s hands.
He lets out a terrified gasp as he’s lifted higher, to about the same level as those emotionless eyes.
For a moment, they both remain in silence. The shadow cocks its head, ever-so-slightly-- as though it were curious about its catch.
[ As I’ve already said, this is far from an ideal situation for you and me both. However, if there were a way to split our consciousnesses into separate entities, I would already be pursuing that course of action. As it stands, we are stuck together for the time being. ]
He flinches as its fingers move around him, thumbs moving closer and closer until they’re…
...Stroking him. Running over his back and head, impossibly gentle for such a massive creature.
[ Just know that I do not intend to harm you, Hajime Hinata, nor do I seek full control over your body. You will have it back once I am finished-- it would get boring very quickly if I held the reins for too long. For now, I just need you to calm yourself-- it’ll be irritating attempting to focus while also having to quell your struggling. ]
Seemingly involuntarily, Hajime finds himself letting out a long sigh, tenseness beginning to melt away from his ‘body’ and his actual, physical body at the same time. The shadow continues to carefully rub at him, massaging his shoulders and back-- it’s distracting enough that he can almost avoid looking at the unchanging, ominous eyes staring down at him, and enough that he almost doesn’t recognize how his physical body is changing.
The buildings around him are shifting, seemingly getting taller and taller with every breath. The process starts speeding up until, in a matter of seconds, they’re all looming over his body-- and Chiaki comes up to his chin instead of barely reaching his ankle.
And just like that, Hajime is gasping and coughing and swaying on wobbly knees, disoriented by suddenly regaining control of his lungs-- and the rest of his body-- once more. He nearly flinches at the sudden sensation of touch, as Chiaki’s hands quickly grab onto his shoulders to keep him from toppling over.
“I’m… Hajime, you’re really going to have to tell me what they did to you when we get out of here.”
He clears his throat in embarrassment and stands up straighter as he gets used to the feeling of his own body again, though he doesn’t exactly protest against letting Chiaki continue to support him.
“...Yeah, I’ll… I’ll try. It’s kind of a blur…”
(...Why didn’t you do that sooner?)
[ For protection, mostly, on the off chance that the facility staff attempted to incapacitate us.
...That and it was rather enlightening to watch you and the girl attempting to get around the mental and physical barriers of your stature to display affection towards one another. ]
(Are you fucking kidding me.)
[ No. Also, please bathe at your earliest convenience. I regret that my brief experience with the sense of smell was fouled by your own body odor and the dirt clinging to your skin. ]
(Shut up. For the love of everything holy, shut up.)
[ I do not carry any particular fondness for any objects deemed by many cultures as ‘holy’-- ]
Hajime groans in exasperation, choosing to focus instead on Chiaki and being led away from the remains of the building behind them.
It… feels good just being near her again. Knowing he has a friend close by is comforting in and of itself-- probably his only friend at Hope’s Peak Academy, for that matter. One he’d come close to never seeing again, if he hadn’t been given a second chance.
“...So what’s going on with your eyes?”
He blinks, confused, before glancing over at her. “What do you mean?”
“One of them is red. And when you went back to normal, both of them were red. That’s not normal… I think.”
He freezes up momentarily at that-- and then he lets out another exasperated sigh before continuing to walk.
“It’s… a long story.”
(...But at least I’m still here to tell it.)
#geez it's been ages since I've posted my writing huh#also as you can probably tell I just got into DR and I am. lost in the sauce#so expect more soon! (hopefully)#gtronpa#astral makes stuff#giant/tiny#the writing corner#fandom g/t
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The Un-tensity Scale
Here you can find a blog post explaining my reasoning for this scale, what it is and what is its purpose, plus some thoughts on individual cards. Enjoy!
List of all un-cards placed in the Un-tensity Scale:
Un-tensity Level 1 — Basically Black Border
Cards that perfectly work under the current Magic rules. They’re all safe to run in black-bordered games, with the exceptions of Incoming! and Gleemax.
UNGLUED:
White: The Cheese Stands Alone, Get a Life, Once More With Feeling
Blue: Checks and Balances, Chicken à la King, Clambassadors, Denied!, Fowl Play, Free-For-All
Black: Jumbo Imp, Organ Harvest, Poultrygeist, Temp of the Damned
Red: Burning Cinder Fury of Crimson Chaos Fire, Chicken Egg, Goblin Bowling Team, Goblin Tutor, Krazy Kow, Ricochet, Spark Fiend, Strategy Schmategy, The Ultimate Nightmare of Wizards of the Coast® Customer Service
Green: Elvish Impersonators, Flock of Rabid Sheeps, Free-Range Chicken, Gerrymandering, Growth Spurt, Hungry Hungry Heifer, Incoming!, Mine Mine Mine!, Team Spirit, Timmy Power Gamer
Multicolored: /
Colorless: Jack-in-the-Mox, Paper Tiger, Rock Lobster, Scissors Lizard, Urza’s Science Fair Project
UNHINGED:
White: /
Blue: Johnny Combo Player, Mise
Black: /
Red: Blast From The Past, Goblin Secret Agent, Six-y Beast
Green: Form of the Squirrel, Old Fogey, Uktabi Kong,
Multicolored: Who // What // When // Where // Why
Colorless: Gleemax, Mana Screw
UNSTABLE:
ALL Host Creatures
White: Amateur Auteur, Do-It-Yourself Seraph, GO TO JAIL, Jackknight, Success!
Blue: Crow Storm, Novellamental, Socketed Sprocketer, Time Out
Black: Inhumaniac, Sly Spy (lose 1d6 life version), Squirrel-Powered Scheme
Red: The Big Idea, Box of Free-Range Goblins, The Countdown is At One, Garbage Elemental (battle cry, cascade versions), Hammer Helper, Hammer Jammer, Painiac, Target Minotaur
Green: As Luck Would Have It, Beast in Show, Chittering Doom, Clever Combo, Ground Pounder, Hydradoodle, Really Epic Punch, Willing Test Subject,
Multicolored: /
Colorless: Buzzing Whack-a-Doodle, Contraption Cannon, ALL Killbots, Everythingamajig (flip a coin version), Krark’s Other Thumb, Lobe Lobber, Mad Science Fair Project, Steel Squirrel
UNSANCTIONED: Surgeon General Commander
UNFINITY:
White: /
Blue: Fluros of Myra’s Marvels
Black: /
Red: /
Green: Killer Cosplay, Tug of War
Multicolored: /
Colorless: Gallery of Legends
OTHER: Fruitcake Elemental, Season’s Beatings
Un-tensity Level 2 — Almost There
Cards that would require minimal amount of tweaking, either in their rules text or in the Comprehensive Rules, to perfectly work in black border. They’re all pretty safe to run in black-bordered games. Augment and Contraptions are here because they follow precise rulings, even if those rulings are not part of the Comprehensive Rules.
UNGLUED: Jalum Grifter
UNHINGED: Curse of the Fire Penguin, Togglodyte, Water Gun Balloon Game
UNSTABLE:
ALL Creatures with Augment
ALL Contraptions
White: Aerial Toastmaster, Midlife Upgrade, Riveting Rigger, Teacher’s Pet
Blue: Chipper Chopper, Incite Insight, Spell Suck, Suspicious Nanny
Black: Finders Keepers, Overt Operative, Steady-Handed Mook
Red: Garbage Elemental (undying version), Steamflogger of the Month, Steamflogger Temp, Steamfloggery, Super Duper Death Ray, Work a Double, Wrench Rigger
Green: Earl of Squirrel, First Pick, Joyride Rigger, Steamflogger Service Rep
Multicolored: Dr Julius Jumblemorph
Colorless: Clock of DOOOOOOOOOOOOM!, Cogmentor, Sword of Dungeons & Dragons
UNSANCTIONED: Strutting Turkey, Bat-
UNFINITY:
White: /
Blue: /
Black: Scooch
Red: Goblin Blastronauts
Green: /
Multicolored: /
Colorless: Nearby Planet, Gift Shop, Push Your Luck
OTHER: Snow Mercy
Un-tensity Level 3 — Experimental
Cards with experimental mechanics, most of which have varying levels of rules issues, but are generally fine when played.
UNGLUED:
White: Look At Me I’m The DCI,
Blue: Clam-I-Am
Black: B.F.M. (Big Furry Monster)
Red: Goblin Bookie
Green: /
Multicolored: /
Colorless: Giant Fan, Jester’s Sombrero, Mirror Mirror
UNHINGED:
White: AWOL, Cheap Ass, Little Girl, Look At Me I’m R&D, Staying Power
Blue: Ambiguity, Flaccify, Magical Hacker, Richard Garfield, PhD, Smart Ass, Topsy Turvy
Black: The Fallen Apart, Necro-Impotence, Wet Willie of the Damned
Red: Assquatch, Dumb Ass, Mons’s Goblin Waiters, Rocket-Powered Turbo Slug, Sauté, Yet Another Aether Vortex
Green: B-I-N-G-O, Fraction Jackson, S.N.O.T., Supersize
Multicolored: /
Colorless: Mox Lotus, City of Ass, R&D’s Secret Lair
UNSTABLE:
White: By Gnome Means, Rules Lawyer
Blue: Animate Library, Clocknapper, Five-Finger Discount, More or Less, Spy Eye, Very Cryptic Command (“draw a card from an opponent’s library”, “return target permanent to its controller’s hand”, “scry 3” versions), Wall of Fortune
Black: Extremely Slow Zombie, Masterful Ninja, Over My Dead Bodies, Sly Spy (draw from an opponent library version), Snickering Squirrel, Spike, Tournament Grinder
Red: Garbage Elemental (last strike version), Infinity Elemental, Just Desserts, Party Crasher, Three-Headed Goblin
Green: Shellephant
Multicolored: The Grand Calcutron, Grusilda, Monster Masher, Urza Academy Headmaster, X, Mary O’Kill
Colorless: Everythingamajig (proliferate, scry 2 versions), Split Screen
UNSANCTIONED: B.O.B. (Bevy Of Beebles)
UNFINITY:
White: Far Out, Solaflora Intergalactic Icon
Blue: /
Black: Animate Graveyard
Red: Omniclown Colossus, Trigger Happy
Green: Icing Manipulator, Sole Performer
Multicolored: Claire D’Loon Joy Sculptor, Grand Marshal Macie, It Came From Planet Glurg, Truss Chief Engineer
Colorless: Urza’s Fun House, Centrifuge, Log Flume
OTHER: Decorated Knight, Evil Presents, Gifts Given, Naughty // Nice
Un-tensity Level 4 — Printed-card-specific
From this point on, cards can care about things black border can’t: art, watermarks, lines of text... Gameplay-wise, things start to get more silly.
UNGLUED: Lexivore, Squirrel Farm, Spatula of the Ages
UNHINGED:
White: Bosom Buddy, Circle of Protection: Art, Drawn Together, Erase (Not The Urza’s Legacy One), Fascist Art Director, First Come First Served, Wordmail
Blue: Artful Looter, Brushstroke Paintermage, Bursting Beebles, Double Header, Framed!, Greater Morphling, Now I Know My ABC’s
Black: Aesthetic Consultation, Bloodletter, Duh, Persecute Artist, Tainted Monkey, When Fluffy Bunnies Attack, Zombie Fanboy, Zzzyxas’s Abyss
Red: Frazzled Editor, Mana Flair, Punctuate, Pygmy Giant
Green: Graphic Violence, Monkey Monkey Monkey, Our Market Research Shows That Players Like Really Long Card Names So We Made this Card to Have the Absolute Longest Card Name Ever Elemental, Remodel, Symbol Status
Multicolored: Meddling Kids, Rare-B-Gone
Colorless: Urza’s Hot Tub, World-Bottling Kit, Super Secret Tech
UNSTABLE:
White: Knight of the Kitchen Sink (all versions), Knight of the Widget, Oddly Uneven, Old Guard
Blue: Graveyard Busybody, Kindly Cognitian, S.N.E.A.K. Dispatcher, Very Cryptic Command (Wayne England, “untap two target permanents”, “counter target black-bordered spell” versions)
Black: capital offense, “Rumors of My Death…”, Sly Spy (discard longest name, destroy creature facing left, destroy creature facing right versions)
Red: Garbage Elemental (frenzy, unleash versions), Goblin Haberdasher, Hammerfest Boomtacular
Green: Druid of the Sacred Beaker, Ineffable Blessing (all versions), Selfie Preservation
Multicolored: Baron Von Count, Phoebe Head of S.N.E.A.K.
Colorless: Border Guardian, Everythingamajig (you gain 10 life, sacrifice a land:you gain 2 life versions), Proper Laboratory Attire, Staff of the Letter Magus, Stamp of Approval, Secret Base, Watermarket
UNSANCTIONED: Alexander Clamilton, Acornelia, Fashionable Filcher, Abstract Iguanart, Stet Draconic Proofreader, Underdome
UNFINITY:
White: Assembled Ensemble, Bar Entry, Jetpack Janitor, Katerina of Myra’s Marvels, Knight in ________ Armor, Leading Performance, Main Event Horizon, Park Re-Entry, T.A.P.P.E.R.
Blue: Busted!, Decisions Decisions, How Is This A Par Three?!, Treacherous Trapezist
Black: Disemvowel, Gray Merchant of Alphabet, Haberthrasher, Nocturno of Myra’s Marvels, Rat in the Hat
Red: Aardwolf’s Advantage, Don’t Try This At Home, Goblin Girder Gang, Ignacio of Myra’s Marvels, Vorthos Steward of Myth, Well Done
Green: Alpha Guard, Hardy of Myra’s Marvels, Jermane Pride of the Circus, Plot Armor
Multicolored: Angelic Harold, Lila Hospitality Hostess, Meet and Greet “Sisay”
Colorless: Greatest Show in the Multiverse, Park Map
OTHER: Topdeck the Halls
Un-tensity Level 5 — Physical/Outside-the-game Requirements
Here, anything goes, from outside assistance cards to physical or vocal components to any kind of outside-the-game interactions.
UNGLUED:
White: Charm School, Double Dip, I’m Rubber You’re Glue, Knight of the Hokey Pokey, Mesa Chicken, Miss Demeanor, Prismatic Wardrobe, Sex Appeal
Blue: Bureaucracy, Censorship, Clam Session, Common Courtesy, Double Take, Psychic Network, Sorry
Black: Deadhead, Double Cross, Handcuffs, Infernal Spawn of Evil, Ow, Volrath’s Motion Sensor
Red: Double Deal, Hurloon Wrangler, Landfill
Green: Cardboard Carapace, Double Play, Ghazbán Ogress, Gus
Multicolored: /
Colorless: Ashnod’s Coupon, Blacker Lotus, Bronze Calendar, Chaos Confetti, Clay Pigeon, Urza’s Contact Lenses
UNHINGED:
White: Atinlay Igpay, Cardpecker, Collector Protector, Emcee, Frankie Peanuts, Head to Head, Ladies’ Knight, Man of Measure, Save Life, Standing Army
Blue: _____, Avatar of Me, Carnivorous Death-Parrot, Cheatyface, Loose Lips, Moniker Mage, Mouth to Mouth, Number Crunch, Question Elemental?, Spell Counter
Black: Bad Ass, Booster Tutor, Enter the Dungeon, Eye to Eye, Farewell to Arms, Infernal Spawn of Infernal Spawn of Evil, Kill! Destroy!, Mother of Goons, Phyrexian Librarian, Stop That, Vile Bile, Working Stiff
Red: Deal Damage, Face to Face, Goblin Mime, Goblin S.W.A.T. Team, Orcish Paratrooper, Red-Hot Hottie, Touch and Go
Green: Creature Guy, Elvish House Party, Fat Ass, Gluetius Maximus, Granny’s Payback, Keeper of the Sacred Word, Land Aid ’04, Laughing Hyena, Name Dropping, Shoe Tree, Side to Side, Stone-Cold Basilisk
Multicolored: “Ach, Hans, Run!”, Ass Whuppin’
Colorless: Letter Bomb, My First Tome, Pointy Finger of Doom, Rod of Spanking, Time Machine, Toy Boat
UNSTABLE:
White: Chivalrous Chevalier, Gimme Five, Sacrifice Play, Side Quest
Blue: Blurry Beeble, Defective Detective, Magic Word
Black: Hangman, Hazmat Suit (Used), Hoisted Hireling, Old-Fashioned Vampire, Skull Saucer, Sly Spy (lose finger version), Subcontract, Summon the Pack
Red: It That Gets Left Hanging
Green: Slaying Mantis, Squirrel Dealer
Multicolored: Better Than One, Cramped Bunker, Hot Fix, Ol’ Buzzbark
Colorless: Entirely Normal Armchair, Everythingamajig (say the flavor text version), Handy Dandy Clone Machine, Kindslaver, Modular Monstrosity
UNSANCTIONED: Flavor Judge, Syr Cadian Knight Owl, Rings a Bell, Infernious Spawnington III Esq., Boomstacker, Pippa Duchess of Dice, Spirit of the Season
UNFINITY:
White: Form of the Approach of the Second Sun, Get Your Head In The Game, Gobsmacked, Hat Trick, Impounding Lot-Bot, Now You See Me…, Surprise Party, Trapeze Artist
Blue: Animate Object, Astroquarium, Bag Check, Blufferfish, Focused Funambulist, Mobile Clone, Octo Opus, Phone a Friend, Plate Spinning, Super-Duper Lost
Black: Exit Through The Grift Shop, Knife and Death, Photo Op, Questionable Cuisine, A Real Handful
Red: Amped Up, Art Appreciation, Carnival Barker, Devil K. Nevil, Goblin Cruciverbalist, Juggletron, Opening Ceremony, Rock Star, Ticking Mime Bomb
Green: An Incident Has Occured, Mistakes Were Made, Pie-Eating Contest, Spelling Bee, Tchotchke Elemental
Multicolored: “Brims” Barone Midway Mobster, Pietra Crafter of Clowns
Colorless: Standard Procedure, Autograph Book, Blue Ribbon, D00-DL Caricaturist, Souvenir T-Shirt, The Big Top, Cover The Spot, Dart Throw, Guess Your Fate, Memory Test, Scavenger Hunt, Squirrel Stack, The Superlatorium, Trivia Contest
OTHER: Bog Humbugs, Goblin Sleigh Ride, Grimlock Dinobot Leader, Last-Minute Chopping, Mishra’s Toy Workshop, Nerf War, Nightmare Moon, Princess Twilight Sparkle, Rarity, Some Disassembly Required, Stocking Tiger, Thopter Pie Network, Yule Ooze
Note on cards with the same name but different abilities:
These cards from Unstable (Knight of the Kitchen Sink, Very Cryptic Command, Sly Spy, Garbage Elemental, Ineffable Blessing, Everythingamajig) have six different versions with the same name, which is not a black border thing. I’ve placed in the list each version independently; technically though, using two different cards with the same name falls under un-tensity level 4. Gameplay-wise having the same name is not really much of a problem, but it was still worth pointing out.
Unfinity Update Placements Explanation
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Fallen Star
fanfiction
ao3
The events of Doctors Disorders reveals that humans CAN have ghost powers. How does the public react to this? What does this mean for Phantom? prompt by @mystyrust
prequel to Ghost Farm
word count: 2665
warning: character death, experimentation, kidnapping
i need you guys to know that agent z sounds like either e boy or fix it felix from wreck it ralph
A glowing mosquito sat in an ecto-proof jar on a pristine white counter. It bounced off the sides of the glass, desperately trying to escape. A black, gloved hand reached out and grabbed the jar and shook it.
“So humans can have ghost powers.”
An agent in an all white suit studied the mosquito.
“How was this any different than possession? Why did this kind of possession grant the students ghost powers instead of overshadowing them?”
He put the jar down and pushed himself away from the counter, facing another man in a white suit who had been standing behind him.
“Agent K. If we can figure out how these mosquitoes gave the teenagers ghost powers, we can use it in our fight against the ectoplasmic scum.”
“How would you suggest we go about that, Agent O?”
“We’ll have to reopen the old research compound. We can’t have the people of Amity Park finding out we’re doing this kind of research. The old compound is further away from the city so they won’t be able to trace it back to us so easily.”
“What about the test subjects?”
Agent O smiled darkly.
“We’ll have to go find some, now won’t we?”
QQQQQ
Star was walking down the street, on her way to meet Paulina at the mall. They were supposed to go pick up some dresses for a fancy dinner at Paulina’s house. Star had told Paulina that she already had something she could wear at home, but her friend insisted Star let her buy her something.
She turned around a corner heading down another street. The sidewalk here was pretty empty. The only person she saw was an old woman walking into her house and when her door shut, Star was all by herself.
That’s when she felt it. There were eyes gazing into the back of her head and she quickly picked up her pace.
She could hear heavy footsteps approaching from behind along with the crunch of gravel underneath tires. Looking over her shoulder, Star saw a man in a white suit behind her and a white car trailing behind him. For a moment, she felt a small relief. It was the GIW. They couldn’t possibly be after her. They must be tracking a ghost.
But the man had nothing in his hand and the way he stared at Star said otherwise.
She turned back around and was about to start running when a hand grabbed her long blonde hair. She cried out as she was pulled backwards towards the man. The car stopped beside them and another man left the car, pulling a bag over her head and tying her wrists together. They both lifted her up and she heard one open the trunk and then she was being thrown in.
“Help!” She screamed before the trunk slammed shut above her.
She heard two doors open and close before the car revved up and started driving away. Panic wormed its way into her chest and she started trying to pull her hands free.
Luckily, the rope around her wrists loosened. She didn’t know why these agents couldn’t tie a knot, but she had to be grateful for it. She pulled the bag off of her head but she still couldn’t see anything from inside the trunk.
Feeling around, Star tried to find a corner of the trunk where the tail light would be. When she found it, she turned around and started trying to kick into the spot. It took a couple tries, but she finally felt it start to give. With one final kick, a hole was made and she could see light coming into the trunk.
She turned back around and started pulling material away from the hole, trying to make it bigger. When it was big enough she stuck her hand through and started trying to wave it around in the daylight.
Suddenly, Star could feel the car turning. She hadn’t noticed they were slowing down until the turn and her heart rate began to pick up. Did they hear her kicking?
After another couple of turns, the car came to a stop and she could hear a door open.
The pop of the trunk sounded and she was blinded by the sunlight that shone behind the man who was staring down at her. She held his gaze in fear for a few moments and the next thing she knew he was swinging at her and she was gone.
QQQQQ
Star slowly woke up. The world came to her slowly and through her blurry eyes she could see white tiles, white walls, and a glass with a different man standing outside it.
She yelped and suddenly she was falling into the hard cot beneath her. She looked back up towards the ceiling. She had been floating? But how?
“What did you do to me?”
The man finished taking notes on his clipboard before his head tilted up to look at her. His dark sunglasses glinted in the light of the bright room. From somewhere to his left, he held up a jar with a bug in it. Was that…?
“The ghost mosquitos?”
“We are currently studying the causes and effects of ghost powers in humans. Our first study involves introducing one of the ectoplasmic specimens to a host and observing.”
Star took in a sharp breath. “You put one of those inside me? On purpose?”
The agent continued without acknowledging her. “You have the honor of being our first test subject. We would have never thought of the possibility of humans having ghost powers until half the high school was quarantined. We can guarantee this information to be invaluable in the battle against ghosts.”
A mounting horror was beginning to gnaw its way into Star’s chest. “What are you going to do to me?”
“We will be performing a series of tests, starting with measuring the effects of long term possession and then moving onto introducing ectoplasm to the host.”
“Ectoplasm?! Isn’t that toxic to humans?!”
“Yes, but we’ll introduce it in small amounts that increase over time.”
Star stared at the ground below her, horrified. “You guys are crazy.”
“Not crazy, innovative.”
Her head snapped up to look at the agent. He had a sly look on his face, like this was the best possible thing he could be doing at this time.
“You’re crazy!” Star shouted.
She shot forward faster than what should be possible and slammed her fist into the glass in front of the agent’s face. He didn’t so much as flinch. He just lifted his clipboard back up and began to write another note.
“Promising progress.”
Then he began to walk away.
“Come back!” She pounded on the glass again. “Come back, you son of a bitch!”
He continued walking away down the hallway until she couldn’t see him anymore. Alone in her quiet room, Star’s anger faded back to fear. She looked down at her shaking hand.
How much worse could this get? What kind of changes were they expecting to happen to her? It was just possession! Overshadowing! Albeit, a different kind. Normally people don’t remember what happened while they were overshadowed, she didn’t know the difference between this and that. She wasn’t even in the batch of kids that had been quarantined.
But she had been flying. Moving faster than she should be able to. She’d been so much stronger than what she actually is, and she still couldn’t get out. Couldn’t break free.
Star took another look down the long hallway and dread filled her stomach.
She didn’t think she’d be getting out of here.
QQQQQ
With no changes in her powers via mosquito three days later, the agents went onto the next part of their plan.
One minute Star was floating above her bed counting the ceiling tiles, the next she was on the floor clutching at her head as something pulsed in her room. By the time the pulsing stopped, she was already strapped into a chair. She could feel the full weight of gravity and she knew the mosquito was gone. They were moving onto the injections now.
She looked up and sitting in front of her was another different agent. This one looked younger than the three she had seen already.
“Hi! I’m Agent Z!”
She hasn’t met any rookie GIW agents before, but that must be what this guy is. The newest addition.
“Today we’ll be starting the introduction of ectoplasm trial! Today we’ll start with a small amount of ectoplasm, which will increase in amount each day! As the days go by, we’ll start doing two doses of ectoplasm per day.”
Maybe she can work with this.
“Uh. You seem real chipper. Are you new to the GIW or something?”
“Yep!” Agent Z said brightly. “This is my first special assignment!”
“Doesn’t it bother you that you’re experimenting on a human though? Isn’t that a terrible thing that they’re making you do?”
“They’re not making me do anything!”
Star paused. “What?”
“I was the only agent who volunteered for the position! I think this is all very exciting!”
“What the hell.” Star whispered. “You’re all insane.”
“It’s not insane if you’re benefiting the rest of humankind!”
“That-”
Star let out a cry of pain as she was interrupted. The needle plunged into her arm and Agent Z pushed the ectoplasm out of the needle and into her veins. It burned as it flowed into her arm and was kind of cold, but it was nothing compared to the pins and needles sensation that began to cover her entire body.
“There we go!” Agent Z said chipperly. “I’ll see you again tomorrow for your next dose!”
He got up and walked to the door, scanned his keycard, and left.
What happened to the observation part of their research?
Suddenly the straps holding her wrists and ankles in place opened and she shot up away from the chair. She hobbled her way to her bed, the pins and needles sensation crawling faster through her legs and feet with each step she took.
She flopped onto the bed and cringed as the sensation crawled over every inch of her body. She looked up at the ceiling, intending to continue counting the tiles again, when she saw something new.
A small camera was fastened to the glass on the outside of her room, staring at her.
She stared at it for a few moments before she lifted her hand up and flipped off whoever was watching her.
QQQQQ
Four days later and she was starting to feel sick from the ectoplasm injections. Today was the first day they’d be giving her two doses and the pins and needles sensation still settled in her limbs, never having gone away from when they woke her up with the prick of a needle at seven am that morning.
She was starting to face constant nausea and her hands had been clipping through the things in her room for two days now. She could barely stomach the meager amount of food they were giving her anymore and she knew she wouldn’t last much longer if this kept up.
Star heard the door slide open from where she laid on her bed. She knew they could tell she wasn’t doing well. They no longer used that horrible pulsing thing on her before they came in. She didn’t have enough energy to fight back anymore.
Agent Z quickly approached her and sat her down in the chair, positioning her wrists so that the straps locked firmly around them. He roughly grabbed her arm and stabbed her with the needle. She screamed as the ectoplasm flowed into her arm, hot and burning all the way in.
“There we go, all done!” Agent Z said as he pulled away. “That wasn’t so hard was it?”
She glared at the man through her greasy hair. He was talking to her like she was a child getting a shot at the doctor’s office.
“Fuck you.” She spat.
“I’ll see you tomorrow for your next dose!”
With that, he swiped his keycard and walked through the door and out of the room.
The straps released her wrists and she collapsed to the floor. Shivers wracked through her body even though she could still feel the hot ectoplasm flowing in her veins.
Star didn’t want to die, but she hoped to whatever deity might be out there that this would all be over soon. She didn’t know how much more she could take.
Suddenly, her stomach rolled and she was gagging and throwing up the little bit she had managed to eat earlier. Spots lined her vision and she slowly crawled her way to her bed, just wanting to fall asleep. Almost as soon as she got on it and curled up, she was gone.
QQQQQ
When Star awoke the next morning, she realized she was already strapped into the chair with Agent Z standing before her. The two agents that had first picked her up were standing on the other side of the window.
“Due to your worsening condition, today will be the last day of the ectoplasm injection trial, you’ll only receive one dose today. Starting tomorrow we’ll begin testing the effects of ectoplasmic charged electricity. We will take a few days break in order for you to gain some semblance of stability.”
“Why not just stop the trials altogether then?” Star rasped.
“The information we have gathered this far is invaluable. We’ve learned that some ways to attain ghost powers are safer than others, while others are more dangerous but much more potent. If We can find that balance between these then we’d have the ultimate weapon in our hands.”
“You guys are monsters.”
“Your participation will do much to protect your friends and family in Amity Park.” He nodded at Agent Z. “Go ahead.”
Agent Z plunged the needle into Star’s arm.
With that last injection, Star screamed. The sound reverberated around her room over and over again, Agent Z covered his ears to protect himself from it. And then suddenly, Star’s ghost was ripping itself from her body, which fell limp against the chair it was strapped to.
Her ghost form flickered brightly, like a star in the sky. She turned her brightly glowing eyes on Agent Z who was looking up at her with wide eyes, his hands still covering his ears. Star dove for him.
Lifting him by the throat, Star picked him up and started throwing him into every wall as she flew around her small room. The ghostly trail she left behind her looked like the tail of a sparkling comet and soon blood was spattering onto the glass.
Agent O pressed a button on the outside wall and the room lit up in a bright green flash and Star was falling to the floor, a beaten agent falling from her grasp into a heap.
“Call in the sanitization and disposal team and have them come clean up this mess.” Agent O said to Agent K, who was staring at Agent Z inside the room.
“Our Agent Z’s never last long.” K said sharply. “What should we do with the girl’s ghost?”
Agent O had a thoughtful look on his face. “We’ll keep it here for study. Her ghost must be a powerful one, that act it displayed immediately upon death is one I’ve never seen before.”
He turned around to face Agent K. “We’ll need to go gather another test subject. We’ll plan to go in two days once this mess is cleaned up.”
“Sir, I respectively ask how will we get any conclusive data if all of our subjects keep dying?”
Agent O barked out a laugh. “Who cares if they die. All that matters is that we get our answers in the end. What better way to get ghosts for research and dissection than by harvesting them ourselves?”
“Like a ghost farm, sir?”
“Yes.” Agent O Smiled wickedly.
“Like a ghost farm.”
#gorgi writes#danny phantom#star#agent k#agent o#giw#fanfiction#fanfic#fic#phic#phic phight#team ghost#phic phight 21
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Parasite-Host Relationships: A need for balance
Parasites are often thought as the “bad guy” in most biological stories. Yes, they may spend their time mooching off of another animal for nutrients and protection they need to live while harming that animal, but so do I. I spend my time living in my parent’s basement never paying rent and always eating there food, does that make me the bad guy? The really interesting thing is although parasites do harm their host they often do not kill the host suggesting to us that they are not as bad as we may think. In fact, there is a movement currently occurring suggesting that parasites deserve a better wrap as they have a major ecological impact within systems. Often times the resulting harm of a parasite actually comes from the decrease in ability for the individual infected by a parasite to fight off predators they may be facing. For example, a fish may become infected by a tapeworm. The fish will poor all its resources and energy to fight off this infection by way of their immune system. In this time though the fish is hunted by a shark and because they have pooled their resources into fighting the parasite in there system they do not have the energy to swim or maneuver fast enough to survive the attack from the predator.
Parasites are understood as organism that cannot sustain themselves without utilizing other resources. This means that in most cases that a parasite does not actually want to kill there host but instead the relationship needs the host to be living. The co-existence of the relationship between a host and a parasite can change dramatically based upon external factors. There are many different ways in which relationships in parasite-host relationships can be changed. In some of these situations the host could benefit. In other cases, the relationship balance could benefit the parasite, it all depends on what is occurring. For example, a relationship could become more beneficial for the parasite if say the salinity in the water changed where a host fish was located. This salinity change may be associated with certain parasitic defenses for the host being compromised making it significantly easier for the parasite to infect the host.
A further example comes from an experiment that was recently published. In this case researchers found an interesting discovery on how Sea trout and Atlantic salmon can benefit from water temperature to lower the damage done by a parasite. For fish, water temperature is one of the most important factors in survival. As ectotherms, fish do not regulate their body temperature. The lack of body temperature regulation means that fish can be extremely effected by water temperature.
A trematode parasite, Diplostomum pseudospathaceum, was used in this study. This parasite infects the eyes of fish and creates a significant eye cataract. The purpose of the study was to monitor the damage after initial eye cataracts occurred in the fish. The researchers exposed experimental groups fish to 6 different genotypes of the trematode parasite and then each group of fish was equally divided into 4 tanks and reared at temperatures known to allow growth of the parasite (16°C). After this the groups were each subject to one of two different temperatures, two tanks were lowered to 5°C and the other two stayed at 16°C. To study the difference in water temperature had om the relationship between the host and parasite, the researchers looked at “per-parasite damage”. Per-parasite damage is strictly the damage a parasite causes on the host. Per-parasite damage is crucial in understanding how the relationship is occurring once infection has begun but does not consider defenses to not gain the infection. This idea instead considers the factors that could change how the host is able to cope with the parasite.
The resulting findings were quite interesting. They found that fish in the colder temperature sustained less injuries from the trematode parasite compared to the fish that was in the warmer temperatures. The result can be used to create rearing conditions for the host fish to withstand serious infection from the parasite such as in aquaculture farmers. Aquaculture facilities deal with substantial parasite infections due to rearing large quantities of one species. The large quantities of one species can lead to a breeding ground for parasites, I mentioned this in a previous blog. Often times infections are managed with harmful chemicals and vaccinations that have been proven to be less the effective when considering the cons involved with them. Aquaculture facilities and conservation groups can consider the advantages in a time period where the fish is given an opportunity to recover from damages and reject the parasite over a certain time. Interestingly, the results of this study suggest something further in which raises the idea that the balance of the relationship may change depending on the time of the year. Colder water temperatures are associated with winter months of course and this gives case for the idea that the winter allows the fish to recuperate from the parasite. Once summer roles around the parasite may gain an advantage over the fish and cause more harm. This works like a balancing act in which throughout the lifespan of the relationship between the host population and the parasite population the net outcome is a stable balanced relationship but at one specific time point in the relationship due to external factors such as water temperature or salinity the relationship may be favoring the parasite or the host. This is shown in figure form as well (Figure 1).
Figure 1: Conceptualizes the understanding of parasitic-host balance over a year. The higher the individual the more favorable advantage the organism has at that time.
When thinking critically about how the balance between parasites and host effect ecosystems we must consider why we need to maybe change the way we think about parasites as a whole. Many people as I mentioned would call a parasite “bad” and not good when considering recovery initiatives. Yet, they do play just an important a role in an ecosystem as many other organism. For example, if one species of fish was able to gain an advantage over a parasite that causes the population to neither decrease or increase significantly the effects could be detrimental to the system. Ecosystems can feature complex food webs where a population increase of a fish species could cause the decrease of available food source for another competing species. The systems are all interconnected so it is important to understand why parasites might not be so bad. Furthermore, why a careful balance is more important the “eradication” of a parasite population. It’s like this, what if I didn’t live in my parents’ basement, living as a so-called parasite? Well, the consequences would be a need for a place for me to live. In today’s housing crisis locally here in New Brunswick, I would cause that crisis to extend further with my need for a home. So just as in aquatic and marine systems there is a need for parasitic-host relationships, there is a need for people my age to still live at home.
Primary Paper:
Klemme, I., Hyvarinen, P, & Karvonen, A. 2021. Cold water reduces the severity of parasite-inflicted damage: support for wintertime recuperation in aquatic hosts. Oecologia 195: 155-161
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The Dragon Knight’s New Clothes
The speed with which Davion left Hauptstadt left him no time to pick up clothes, so now he's back to square one and very much missing enough layers to cover up his... secrets. When he and his companions stumble on a farmstead his prayers seem answered, but there's also the other matter, the reason why he had to flee Hauptstadt in the first place, and the fear that it will happen again. Set between Episodes 2 & 3.
Hints of Davion x Mirana
--
Read on AO3
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Normally, Davion is perfectly fine with silence in his travelling companions. The life of a dragon knight requires long hours on the road, not all of which can be filled with talk, even on the days where there’s no hunt to keep the quiet. But normality seems to have taken its butterfly wings elsewhere for him lately, and the current silence is getting awkward. It’s just him and Mirana. Marci took Sagan scouting shortly after sunrise and left them alone together, and while she seems content with their current situation, she’s also the only one between them wearing clothes. She doesn’t have to worry about the strength of errant breezes finding their way to places, and she has the weight of a weapon at her side as insurance against any trouble they might run into. Her feet aren’t slipping around sockless and blistered in too-large boots taken off a dead man.
A man he tore to pieces.
He swallows, glances to his companion to take his mind off the remembered taste of blood in his mouth. Her shoulders are loose, her gaze soft and hair flowing where the wind lifts it back from her face, the unassuming brown sparking copper in the dappled sunlight. He swallows again.
“Soooooo…”
“Is there a problem?” she asks, slowing a little. A quizzical knot appears between her brows and he raises his hands in surrender.
“No problem!” he says. “It’s just… you’re quiet.”
“I was enjoying the peace.” If there’s a note of annoyance for his interruption it flashes too quickly for him to catch it.
“You must not get much chance to just stop and smell the flowers,” he supposes, after a moment. “Being a princess and everything.”
“There are always little things, if you let yourself look for them – but you’re right that my duties rarely allowed for anything more.”
Allowed. Past tense.
“You never snuck away to try something more fun?” He grins, and when she only quirks a brow at him he clears his throat. “No, never mind, I think I know the answer to that… I’m sure Marci will be back soon.”
She throws him a smirk. “Are you worried about her?”
“Actually,” he says, letting his thoughts tease out, “I’ve been wondering about you two.”
“What about us?” The smirk draws in, a warning that seems to dim the sunlight itself.
He shrugs. “She takes your orders, but you don’t exactly treat her like a servant or a squire, and you have that –” he waggles his fingers experimentally – “hand language. You must have known her a long time.”
She turns away from him, her eyes going to a bird cleaning its beak on the branches above them as her arms fold in a loose cross over her chest.
“We came to the Nightsilver Woods together, if that’s what you’re asking,” she says. “We were already companions before then.”
“Just the two of you?”
Something in the memory pains her. “There was no one else left.”
“What about Sagan?” he asks.
“A gift from my goddess, so that I might do Her work.” The smile comes back, and he’s glad for it. “He was adorable as a cub – so fluffy. He used to chase the reflections from my arrowheads.”
“I never had a pet,” he confesses, without quite meaning to. A memory of a mongrel begging at the back door for scraps threatens to pull him in, but it was a long time ago and his mind can’t conjure the dog’s appearance. It probably ended up like the rest of his village, anyway.
Mirana’s eyes find his face, too perceptive, too understanding. Before he can think of a new subject to distract her, he notices the birds have all gone silent. The undergrowth rustles nearby, concealing something huge. He darts forward, fists ready in place of a weapon, but an instant later he catches a flash of white and relaxes in recognition at the wide, blunt head that pushes out from among the trees.
“Sagan!” Mirana ducks forward, arms outstretched, and the tiger butts her in the shoulder, purring like an avalanche as Marci slides down his back.
A brief conversation follows in the silent language the two women use between themselves, the signs made by their hands too fast for Davion to follow. He waits patiently, even dares to give Sagan a scratch under the chin, his fingers inches from the mouth full of sabre teeth the length of his hand.
Finally, Mirana turns to him. “There’s a farmstead about five miles west of here. If we’re welcomed it would be a good place to get some rest.” She throws a casual look over him and he resists the urge to tug the too-small cloak further around his body. “Perhaps we might also find you some better clothes.”
“I’d like that.” What he likes less is her singular ability to make him aware of his body – and not in the fun way.
She starts to lead off down the path but stops, sighs, her fingers going to pinch between her brows in an attitude of long-suffering patience.
“Ride Sagan,” she says. Orders, really. “It’ll save your feet.”
He can’t help but lean closer, grinning. “That’s surprisingly nice of you, princess.”
“And it’ll stop you slowing us down.”
He chuckles at that. Even in the few days they’ve spent travelling together he’s learned the difference between her wry mock threats and the times she truly intends to bite. As he winces over to tiger and vaults into the saddle, he almost misses the look exchanged between his two companions.
“How do I, uh, steer?” he asks. The neck in front of him is too short, the shoulders much broader than those of a horse, and there aren’t any reins.
Mirana smirks at him. “You don’t.”
--
They reach the farmstead as the sun is on its last descent towards the distant hills. Barley stalks sway gently under the wind as they climb the path to the house, and when a young teen tending vegetables by the back door spots them, Davion can hardly blame them for dropping their rake and running inside. The three of them don’t exactly make for an ordinary bunch of travellers, especially not with Sagan padding along behind them. There’s a stag slung over the saddle, intended as a sort of offering by Mirana, who took it down with one of her arrows before he even knew it was there. While most would follow the custom of hospitality without such a gift, they have only a few coins from the bandits he killed, and they need more than just shelter for the night.
“Better let me do the talking,” he mutters as they pass into the yard. It’s not the first time he’s had to explain to some poor local that he’s not a marauding thug, and that was without the daunting presence of the war tiger at his back.
For a moment, Mirana considers, but nods and hangs back, passing a hand over her holstered bow as if to reassure herself it’s still there. With another self-conscious tug on his attire to make sure his decency is covered, he advances towards the farmhouse’s front door and as he passes a soft fragrance of thyme and lavender rises from pots placed beneath the windows, though it’s too early in the year for the buzzing of bees. A memory tickles at the back of his mind but he pushes it away before the herby scent can be tainted with ash, and in the instant it takes to centre himself the door swings open to a tall, broad woman with steel-grey hair and an iron brow who steps out just far enough to not appear suspicious.
“You’re an uncommon bunch, right enough,” she comments, her face half shadowed by the overhanging thatch. “What business have you?”
Davion offers her his most winning smile. “We’re travelling from Hauptstadt. If you have enough spare for a hot meal and room in your barn for the night, we’d appreciate it.” He gestures to his companions. “My friend here managed to take down a deer, and we’ll happily share it with you.”
“Half of it,” Mirana corrects, with a hand on her tiger’s shoulder. “And the hide. Sagan needs to eat too.”
The farmer passes a calculating look over them, lingering longest on Davion and the scars so clearly visible across his shoulders, but in the end he guesses their fearsome appearance works in their favour. Their would-be host shrugs. If such travellers wanted to pillage and burn, they’d have no need for subterfuge first.
“We’re always happy to have well-mannered guests, especially ones with news of the road,” she says. “At this time of year the stock is out so your cat will be fine in the barn. Just keep him away from the back field, I’ve ewes ready to drop and they don’t a need a fright to help them along.”
Mirana nods. “Thank you. Is there somewhere we can put the deer?”
If the farmer is surprised by Marci’s strength as she hauls the carcass off Sagan’s back, she doesn’t show it, only points to the gate set into the far wall to show the way to the outbuildings. “And you always dress like that, do you?” she asks a moment later, still eyeing Davion.
He glances down at himself as if it’s going to suddenly change the nature of his attire, but the princess answers before he can open his mouth.
“There was trouble with bandits.”
“Only for your friend here?” The farmer’s eyes narrow.
“We met on the road,” she says smoothly. “If you have some spare clothes, my companion would appreciate the return of her cloak.”
The farmer accepts the half-truth with a solemn shake of her head. “Some of my late husband’s things should fit you, though he never kept quite so trim as you seem to be.”
She beckons them into the house. Davion follows, ducking under the lintel to avoid knocking his head, but pauses when he realises Mirana isn’t behind him.
“I’m going to bed Sagan down,” she tells him. “I’ll join you shortly.”
He smiles, nodding, and resists the urge to reach for her as she turns away. Inside, the whitewashed walls split the house into two, a kitchen with a large, scrubbed table in the back, and a parlour of sorts with a gathering of chairs around a large fireplace that overlooks the garden. An old woman snores in the armchair closest to the window, but she doesn’t stir at the prospect of visitors, even though the stairs leading off this main room creak under Davion’s weight, the wood worn to a polish by generations of use.
“Tayran,” his host calls out as a young woman appears from one of the upper rooms, “go help your brother with the veggies, will you? We’ve three more mouth to feed tonight.”
Tayran, a few years younger than Davion and sporting the same square jaw and brown eyes as her mother, nods and ducks along the hallway, but not before she’s let her gaze rake along the expanse of his muscles not covered by Marci’s cloak. The smile he offers in return is friendly enough, but not encouraging. He needs the clothes more than he needs someone to take them off again.
Seemingly oblivious to the exchange, his host has gone on ahead to the main bedroom and has taken a key to a heavily locked chest in the corner by the washstand. She digs through it, muttering, though he notices she never quite fully turns her back to him, and after a moment she stands again, with a shirt, breeches, and quilted jerkin draped over her arm. After a pause where she casts a critical eye at his boots, she stumps over to a dresser and pulls a rolled pair of wool socks from one of the drawers as well.
“These are the best I can do,” she says, handing the ensemble to him. “Afraid we’ve no salve for those badly fitting boots of yours, though.”
��It’s no problem,” he replies. “I really can’t thank you enough.”
She huffs. “You can pay it forward. That’s what decent folk do. I’d best go see if yon slip of a girl has managed to get any meat off that stag yet – there’s plenty of room to change in the barn,” she adds, as she chivvies him from the room.
--
Dinner a few hours later is a crowded affair, the family’s meagre supply of chairs not enough to accommodate their guests, which means Davion’s legs are folded awkwardly around the tree stump serving him as a stool, his knees already bruised from all their accidental knocks to the underside of the table. The dim light for their meal comes from the fire and from a storm lantern hanging in the rafters in the centre of the room, and in the darkness beyond this the house groans and creaks as it settles for the night. After the disdain Mirana showed for the inn in Hauptstadt he wondered how she would react to such simple surroundings, but she nods graciously as their host ladles her a portion of stew and doesn’t complain that it’s being served with a wooden spoon. Marci is already tucking into hers as if she hasn’t eaten for days.
He smiles down at his bowl. The stew itself tastes good, the venison paired well with bacon and fresh vegetables, and it’s so thick the slice of bread he’s been given can be planted into it like a battle standard. Their host seems satisfied with their enthusiasm for her food, too. She has yet to sit down, her own portion left off as she pours a clear liquid into a motley collection of cups.
“Don’t knock this back,” she warns as she passes the drinks around. “It’ll beat you round the head like a club and go through your pockets for loose change.”
Davion can’t resist. He makes a great show of tasting the liquor. “A fine vintage, ma’am. Comparable to an Icewrack white, I’d say.”
Opposite him, Mirana narrows her eyes, like she wants to kick him under the table.
“My, you’ve expensive tastes,” their host rumbles. “You won’t find anything half so fancy in these parts.”
“Oh? Shame.”
“Where have you been that serves Icewrack white?” the elder asks from the head of the table. It’s the first Davion’s heard her speak, and her voice is cracked with age and suspicion.
“Oh, a few places,” he answers, careful. “I’ve spent most of my life travelling.”
“You must have many stories,” says Tayran, leaning forward on her elbows while her younger brother rolls his eyes next to her.
“Some, I suppose.” Davion shrugs. “My – uh, I had a friend who was much better than telling them.” He can’t mention having a squire; it would invite too many questions.
The elder seems content with him, but then her eye swivels towards Mirana. “What about you?”
“Mama,” their host chides. “We don’t interrogate our guests.”
Mirana sets down her wooden spoon. “It’s alright. We came from further west, on business.”
“Wrong time o’ year to be travelling the high passes.”
“My business could not wait,” she replies. Not for the first time, he wonders what calamity must have drawn her from her woods, put the grit in her voice as she speaks of it.
“And what about you?” Tayran asks him. Her eyelashes flutter. “If you’re looking for work you’d be far more likely to find it back in Hauptstadt, or on one of the farms in the valley.”
He disarms her with a grin. “And leave my companions without a defender? My honour wouldn’t allow it.” He shrugs elaborately. “I’ve got some friends near Levinthal who should be able to help me after I go that way.”
“More people who owe you favours?” Mirana asks, casually enough, though it’s clear she hasn’t forgiven him for the cockroaches that came included with the last one.
“It’s likely just as well you travel together,” their host interrupts. “There’s rumours of some sort of monster roving about these hills. Someone found bodies ripped apart not a week’s journey from here, and whatever it was killed a dragon knight an’ all. Dangerous times, these.”
The chill that grips Davion’s spine doesn’t go away, nor the knot in his stomach that feels like another gang leader’s ring just waiting to be hocked up onto the table. Mirana and Marci both have stilled to watch him, but he doesn’t meet their gazes. Instead, he draws in a breath and stretches his best tavern-pleasing smile across his revulsion.
“Thanks for the warning,” he says. “We’ll be extra careful.”
The conversation moves on after that, well into the night. On isolated farms like this one, travellers may bring the only news of the outside world for weeks, and new stories of far off places are always welcome. Finally, drowsing under the effect of the wine and the full meal and with the supply of fire logs running low, Mirana rises to make their excuses for the night. They have an early start in the morning, and don’t want to trespass any further, she says. Davion follows.
In the doorway, however, an unexpected hand reaches out in a caress across his chest that stops him before he can make it out into the cold. His breath fogs as he turns, finding Tayran in the shadowed alcove where the family keeps their coats, the smile on her face one he’s seen on more than one young woman on his travels.
“It’ll be cold tonight, you know,” she purrs.
From the corner of his eye he sees Mirana pause at the sound of the voice, but when he turns fully she’s already resumed her pace, perfectly measured, her shoulders straight, and he wonders if he imagined it. Tayran’s hand moves up to cup his cheek, to bring his attention back to her.
“If you want a better offer than a draughty old barn, I’d be happy to oblige. If you’re not already spoken for, that is?”
“You mean with –?” He coughs. “No, I’m not. We’re not, ah – like that.”
She steps closer. “Good. Would you like to hear more about my offer?”
--
When he lets himself into the barn a little time later, bright moonlight spills around him, though his eyes take less time to adjust to the unlit interior than he expects. An oil lamp glows in the far corner.
“Your ‘better offer’ fell through then?” a voice chimes through the darkness, low with disdain.
He finds Mirana with Sagan’s head in her lap, running a soft brush over the tiger’s fur, her scowl and the sour curl of her mouth revealing the nature of whatever else she wants to say. She doesn’t look at him. His own anger rises in response.
“I didn’t take the offer,” he snaps, quiet enough not to disturb Marci. “Not that you have any reason to care.”
“I didn’t want to waste time looking for you in the morning.”
But the gaze fixed on him now flickers with calculation, the same astuteness she turned on him after he let the elf go, as if he’s a puzzle box with no clear solution.
“She was a pretty enough thing,” she comments as he unfolds a horse rug over the straw as a makeshift bedsheet. “Many men would have gone after her.”
“Yeah, well – I’ve said it before.” He throws his head down on his folded arm. “I’m not most men.”
Now more than ever, he thinks ruefully as silence descends again. If he were the sort of person who believed the gods cared at all he’d wonder if they turned him into… whatever he is… as a punishment for hubris. For a little harmless flirting. He yanks the blanket up to his chin and rolls over – he’s slept in less comfortable places, but that doesn’t make the cold, prickly ground any less frustrating. A bed would have been much better. A bed with a bit of fun thrown in, for the both of them, and yet he chose to leave, and he’s going to go mad trying to work out why.
“You’re afraid,” Mirana says into the quiet. “Worried that what happened at Hauptstadt – what you became – that it’ll happen again.”
After a long moment, he unclenches his hand and sighs. “Yeah. Maybe.”
“For what good it will do, I can watch over you, if you like.”
He shifts. The offer feels unfamiliar. A dragon knight is sworn to protect others, and though the rational part of him knows if he does turn she’ll be dead before she realises it, there’s a warm glow of comfort from the assurance in her voice. She asks nothing of him, only honesty.
“If the transformation happens…”
“I’ll shoot you.” He hears the smirk.
“Thank you.” He squeezes his eyes shut, willing away the images his mind conjures, her blood on his hands, and prays to whichever gods are listening that if the worst comes her draw will be fast enough.
#dota dragon's blood#dota: dragon's blood#dota: db#dota 2#mirana#princess mirana#davion#davion the dragon knight#davion x mirana#mirana x davion#miravion#dragon's blood
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Eddie Brock
Eddie is a native son of Brooklyn, New York, and attended Empire State University on a football scholarship. Upon the death of his alcoholic father, however, he no longer felt bound to the man’s toxic masculinity, and did not seek a career in professional football, choosing instead to focus on journalism.
He was successful in the field for several years, until he finally got what he believed was his big break -- exclusive interviews with a convicted criminal claiming to be the enigmatic Sin-Eater. He published a series of in-depth articles based on the confessions of his subject, until Spider-Man exposed someone else as being the true Sin-Eater, at which point, Eddie’s work was discredited and his career was ruined.
Unable to find work, Eddie sank into despair and eventually contemplated suicide. While sitting at his church praying for forgiveness in advance, he encountered the dying remains of the symbiote that Spider-Man had rejected only minutes before.
Eddie spent the next several years either on the lam or in specialized prison cells, subjected to experimentation. During one stint he had a cell opposite nihilistic serial killer Cletus Kasady, who would eventually become Carnage. It was here that Eddie began to reshape his notions of right and wrong. When Carnage became a threat, Eddie realized that he had unwittingly given birth to a nightmare just as Spider-Man had unwittingly given birth to Venom, and it was in battling and defeating Carnage that he began to take responsibility for the power given him by his symbiote.
Eddie’s base of operations is San Francisco, where he works as a reporter and digital journalist for the San Francisco Chronicle during the day, and moonlights as a spider-franchise vigilante, primarily protecting the people who live in the massive underground sewer complex that was made over into a city by the homeless and indigent of the region.
Eddie primarily uses a motorcycle for daytime transportation. When he rides, he wears a helmet which has a built-in radio, modified to be able to listen in to police frequencies.
The Symbiote
The black symbiote that Spider-Man rejected does not consider Venom to be its own name. When Eddie bonded with it, both of them made a joint decision to take the name Venom as a moniker of their unity, and also a symbol of their joined spite for Spider-Man.
The symbiote regards Spider-Man much as a jealous spouse would regard an unfaithful partner. Peter Parker was its first bond-mate and he nearly killed it in his bid to drive it off. The symbiote perceives this rejection as far more personally motivated and vicious than anything it has ever done, either before or since, and it harbors a deep resentment for Parker as a result.
The symbiote is a member of the Klyntar, an alien species of sentient polymorphic amoeboids. It is genderless and reproduces asexually. It is carnivorous and is most easily sated with live food, but will accept substitutional nutrition as the occasion calls (for example, chocolate in lieu of brains). If it does not receive the nutrition it needs, it will begin feeding on its host as a survival mechanism, and will promote increasingly aggressive tendencies in its host as part of that mechanism. When bonded, it endows its host with cooperative mental control of its shapeshifting capabilities and greatly increased strength and stamina. Its previous bond with Spider-Man also allows it to endow its host with a measure of his precognitive “spider-sense” and it can project organic webbing similar to his home brew.
Although it is able to, the Venom symbiote does not often express itself aloud and almost never speaks, preferring to let Eddie do the talking (its opinion is that Eddie talks enough for the both of them).
Eddie has adopted the habit of using “we/us” when referring to himself, as he is constantly straddling the thought processes of both himself and the symbiote. He does so because he feels it’s dishonest for him to claim his point of view is his alone. It’s rare that he vocally shares a perspective he has with which the symbiote disagrees -- though it’s been known to happen, and when it does, he will apply the appropriate pronouns.
Verses
Main: primarily 616-compliant. Post-The Madness, pre-Absolute Carnage. This version of Eddie has experienced a great deal of physical and mental anguish, and his notions of justice tend to be more severe than those of most superheroes. He has no compunction against killing those he believes deserve it. He still feels some animosity towards Parker / Spider-Man, but this is largely sympathetic to the symbiote’s grudge against him.
MCU: Origin story remains largely as per above. The symbiote’s attempt to bond with Spider-Man occurred shortly after Homecoming. Eddie’s turn as Venom was initially short-lived but the symbiote was fully bonded to him and inextricable. His specialized prison was created by the Life Foundation prior to the events of Infinity War, and under the stresses of experimentation, the symbiote was forced to spawn several offspring during captivity. When the Snap occurred, Eddie and several other prisoners escaped confinement, leading to Carnage’s origin story and Eddie’s decision to turn over a new leaf as per above. After Carnage’s defeat and recapture, Eddie fled to San Francisco and started a new life there.
Variant: Anti-Venom
This version of Eddie originally gave up the Venom symbiote when he discovered he had terminal cancer. A chance encounter with Martin Li, secretly Mister Negative, caused Eddie to be imbued with energy from the Darkforce Dimension, which interacted with the remnants of the Venom symbiote still bonded to his cells. This inadvertently gave birth to the white Anti-Venom symbiote, which unlike its predecessor is entirely mindless, lacks the customary Klyntar bloodthirst, is immune to fire and sonic attacks, is capable of healing virtually all known human diseases and ailments (including cancer), and is completely under Eddie’s control.
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James Young Simpson was born on 7th June 1811 in Bathgate, West Lothian.
At the age of 4, James went to the local school where he excelled. The family pulled their belts in,in order to send him to college. In 1825 at the age of 14 he studied arts at Edinburgh University, transferring to medicine two years later. He qualified at the age of 18 but until he could take up his degree at the age of 20, he worked as assistant to the professor of pathology. Already he had determined to become an obstetrician even though the specialty was still regarded with disfavour by the profession.
Settling in Stockbridge, he built up a large practice and obtained a position in the Leith Lying-in Hospital. From his writings and lectures on the subject, his exceptional ability was soon recognised. At the age of 24, he was elected president of the Royal Medical Society of Edinburgh.
By now the University of Edinburgh medical faculty had become one of the finest in the world. The chair of midwifery, founded in 1726, was the first of its kind in the British Isles. The incumbent, Professor James Hamilton, was due to retire in 1839, and Simpson set his mind on succeeding him. Finally it was a choice between him and Evory Kennedy of Dublin. Simpson won by a single vote. Over the next 30 years he made Edinburgh the foremost centre in the field.
Simpson had a magnetic personality that appealed to all he met. Kindly, gentle, religious, and sympathetic, he inspired the confidence and love of his patients. All his life he worked extremely hard but always found time to attend the poor. He was an excellent host, gathering about him people from all walks of life. Exceptionally well read, he had wide interests. With an alert intellect, he was a brilliant conversationalist who enjoyed controversy. When in argument he was right, he was irresistible, and when wrong, formidable. Not only was he an acute observer and experimenter but also gifted with insight and vision. For example, in his graduation address he foretold the use of x rays and other methods of body imaging, saying: “Possibly by the concentration of electrical and other lights we may render many parts of the body, if not the whole body, sufficiently diaphanous for the practiced eye of the physician and surgeon”.
Simpson started to use ether on January 19, 1847 but didn’t like the smell and was determined to find a better alternative. On the weeks running up to the evening of November 4, 1847, they had tested several anaesthetics running a series of experiments trying to find inhaled painkillers that would be less smelly and flammable than ether and have fewer side effects. It was an unusual twist on the standard gentleman’s routine of after-dinner drinks, Simpson and his assistants, George Keith and Matthew Duncan finally got round to testing chloroform on the advice of Dr Waldie of Liverpool. It had been used before but not on a regular basis, the three men were poured a quantity into a glass and they each raised their glasses to their noses, and breathed in deeply. A sweet smell filled the air, and the younger physicians became lively and talkative.
“This is far better and stronger than ether,” Simpson thought. The next he knew, he was looking up at the ceiling, with noise and confusion all around. Duncan had collapsed under a chair, snoring loudly, and Keith lay on his back under the table, kicking it violently despite his unconsciousness. After gradually waking up and struggling back into their seats, the doctors were eager to experiment again—though more cautiously this time. Other family members watched these remarkable events. After inhaling the chloroform herself, Simpson’s niece-in-law called out, “I’m an angel! Oh, I’m an angel!” before folding her arms and falling asleep at the table. The group continued to sniff the chloroform until it all evaporated.
The experiment was a grand success, and Simpson and his colleagues lost no time in having large supplies of chloroform manufactured to use on their patients. Its use spread rapidly, as it was easy to obtain and administer and less harsh in its effects than ether. Simpson wrote extensively in defense of the substance, countering doctors and clergymen who argued that pain was necessary for the body and ordained by the Bible. He delivered one of his pithiest ripostes in an 1848 exchange with “an Irish lady.” She chastised him by saying “how unnatural it is for you doctors in Edinburgh to take away the pains of your patients when in labour.” He responded, “How unnatural … is it for you to have swam over from Ireland to Scotland against wind and tide in a steamboat.” For Simpson and his supporters relieving pain was as great an innovation as steam power. Both inventions seemed to prove 19th-century ideas about boundless technological progress and the perfectibility of humankind.
Nevertheless, objections to anesthesia—especially when used for women in labor—continued. Soon, however, chloroform received an unexpected supporter. Queen Victoria and her consort Prince Albert requested the compound for the birth of their eighth child, Prince Leopold, in 1853. John Snow administered the drug, using a few drops on a simple handkerchief rather than the inhalers and masks then on the market. The queen, who remained conscious throughout the procedure, recorded in her journal that the effect was “soothing, quieting, delightful beyond measure.” She received the drug again in 1857 for the birth of Princess Beatrice, her ninth and last child. When her oldest daughter Princess Victoria had her own first child in 1859, the queen rejoiced, “What a blessing she had chloroform.”
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BnHA Chapter 259: Jakku General Hospital
Previously on BnHA: We chilled with Hawks and Twice, who filled us in on the various different facets of Pliff’s plan to fuck over the world. For starters there are like a dozen new bad guys who are each heading different Pliff regiments, just in case anyone forgot that this is a literal army we’re dealing with here. Hawks also reminded us of the fact that Twice can clone basically any one of the bad guys as many times as he wants now, so that’s a nicely terrifying thought to sit and mull over. We learned that once Tomura is done powering up, the villains intend to attack all over the country simultaneously and basically destroy society as we know it. Oh and also kill all the heroes of course. But I think we already knew that. Anyway, so the one bright side in all of this is that Twice naively let it slip to Hawks where Tomura was currently undergoing his Frankenstein procedure. And so the chapter ended with basically all of the heroes in Japan launching a surprise attack in the mountains of Kyoto, while the kids waited on standby to help with the evacuations. And I know that doesn’t sound very safe, but... well... shit.
Today on BnHA: A quiet morning in the Kyoto suburb of Jakku. All is peaceful -- or so it seems. Little does the elderly CEO of Jakku General Hospital (a stand-up citizen, philanthropist, and caretaker of orphans all across the country) know that lying in wait just outside his doors is a group of wicked and immoral HEROES ready to -- okay lol you know what, I can’t. Not sure what I was really going for there anyway. So! Meanwhile in the woods outside the ol’ villain hotel, a second group of heroes led by Edgeshot and featuring several child heroes in training, including KAMINARI WHO WAS LITERALLY JUST BORN YESTERDAY AND SHOULD BE AT HOME IN HIS NURSERY WATCHING PAW PATROL AND NOT OUT HERE IN THE WOODS WHERE HE IS IN TERRIBLE DANGER, is gathered and ready to attack the League’s main forces. So things kick off with Death Arms apprehending the traitorous Slidin’ Go, while elsewhere the heroes bust into Jakku General Hospital to capture Ujiko. Show of hands, who here thinks this is going to go smoothly? ...Yep. Yeah. That’s what I thought.
okay guys, before we get started I’m gonna answer a couple of relevant asks from last week. first:
I’m almost hesitant to talk about this, because I’m paranoid that Viz and co. could pounce on these sites again at any moment, and so I feel like this sort of thing is better left to private messages and discord servers. but I guess one little mention of it won’t hurt. so the site currently doing the scanlations is readheroacademia.com, which has been around for a while. and there are several other sites which also host the new chapters and have all of the old chapters archived as well. kissmanga is a big one which I know a lot of people use, but my personal favorite is readmha.com (idk, I just feel like its layout is... cleaner? if that makes any sense)
also do keep in mind that all of these sites are pretty ad-heavy, so I wouldn’t recommend visiting without a good adblocker at the ready (I generally use Chrome on both desktop and mobile, and have uBlock Origin and Disable HTML5 Autoplay enabled on my desktop browser). that being said, I’ve never had any issues myself
good question! I was actually thinking about doing a weekly follow-up post on Sundays after the official Viz translation comes out, but obviously I did not end up doing that last week lol. so now I’m thinking it might be easier for me to just post any subsequent thoughts/remarks in the following week’s chapter recap, since I’m already committed to doing those anyway and so it makes it harder to flake out
so that said, my one follow-up thought about chapter 258 is that the fan scanlation seems to have mistranslated that whole “AFO’s resurgence” part. in Viz’s version Hawks was instead saying that the PLF’s plans would “throw the world into chaos and enthrone Shigaraki atop the rubble.” and he then referred to Tomura as the second coming of All for One. sooooo, pretty much exactly the opposite of the other translation lol. this is a big blow to my continued effort to search for evidence that AFO is gonna come back and be the final villain, but I am still not deterred. we will continue to fight on until AFO either actually dies, or does come back like I keep predicting he will! please try to work with me a little better here, AFO
one other thing, instead of “New World Movement”, Viz used the same “Vanguard Action” regiment name that was used during the forest training camp arc. Caleb said that the wording (“kaibyaku koudou”) was exactly the same. so I’ll be using that too moving forward. I guess that means that Pliff is still on the menu though, pity
anyway so let’s get started now
so it’s a house... no, holy shit, wait, it’s the house!
THE NEW TODOROKI HOUSE OH MY GOD. ahhhhh lol what the fuck is this. Todofeels coming up to slap me in the face out of nowhere?! here I thought we were gonna just dive right into the Shigaraki raid and the resulting carnage
I’m... not really sure how I feel about this? like, right now I’m not trusting anything Horikoshi does lol. “quiet beginnings” you say? this is just a sneaky new way to bring me more pain. isn’t it
(ETA: I guess “quiet beginnings” also summarizes the other activities of this chapter pretty well. also is that Natsuo’s girlfriend??! at first I thought it was Rei, but those look like quirk-related ears? so Natsu then really is living his best college life huh.)
oh hey everyone it’s a brand new character!
(ETA: wait, is he actually quirkless? or is that just another LIE. you big LIAR.)
I’m so curious what the kanji is for this latest name. can’t wait for Caleb to enlighten us. I wonder if it’s “shi” as in “death”, just like with Tomura/AFO’s name. and no idea at all what “Maruta” means. basically I just want to know if there’s some pun or something, since yet again he’s obviously using a fake alias here
(ETA: so someone informed me in an anon ask that this is a reference to Unit 731, which was a Japanese unit that undertook lethal human experimentation during WWII. basically the people who conducted the experiments referred to their human subjects as “logs” to dehumanize them. and the Japanese word for log is, you guessed it, maruta. so that’s an extremely powerful and disturbing association for this name, and it’s obvious now why Horikoshi went with it.
that said, the anon said that some people were really upset by this name choice, and while I guess I can understand that, I also think that’s kind of the point, though? like, it’s supposed to be horrifying. anyone with a human conscience and any kind of empathy whatsoever should be horrified. and atrocities like that shouldn’t be forgotten, and I actually think that for someone born and raised and living in Japan like Horikoshi to be making a reference to this is fairly ballsy. because my understanding is that, like a lot of Japan’s other war crimes, it was more or less hushed up by the government afterwards, and isn’t really taught in schools or mentioned in history textbooks other than in passing. so while I can understand people maybe finding it disrespectful, I don’t think it was meant as such. it seems to me that if anything, Horikoshi wants people to look into it and be educated about it. and again, obviously he’s associating it here with easily the most reprehensible and morally sickening character in the entire series, which is fitting I think. anyway so those are my thoughts on that.)
anyway, guess what guys? looks like we’ve got ourselves another Star Wars reference! let’s just hope this particular Jakku doesn’t wind up as wrecked as its namesake when all’s said and done. it’s gonna be a loooooong day
you guys. Maruta is such a nice guy
he’s a philanthropist! and he runs orphanages all over the country! wow! what a great person!! and nursing homes as well, where residents presumably die on the regular (of old age and other natural causes no doubt), at which point they are presumably cremated, and I wonder who runs the cremation facilities? I’m sure whoever it is is definitely on the up-and-up
and “quirk-based community healthcare.” I wonder if they’re selective about who they treat based on what their quirks are. all the better to make sure people with particularly strong and/or unique quirks get the specialized treatment they need!
anyway. see, this is more like what I expected. some super dark shit, and finally some answers to a few long-established questions as well, but not without a price. that price being the churning feeling in my gut right now lol. oh man. well I just ate, so that might have something to do with it. but I tell ya, nothing makes you vaguely queasy like trying your best not to think about a massive conspiracy to kidnap and torture innocent children in the pursuit of ultimate power! so anyways I sure do hate this!
fffff like, really hate it. I HATE IT SO MUCH
[reluctantly goes ahead and slides AFO down one notch on my list of people I need to see die the most] well there it is. we have a new champion
so now we’re cutting to a hero briefing!
y’all is that THE SHERIFF. PLEASE. IT’S BEEN SO LONG. BUDDY I MISSED YA
so Nao says he had one of his guys go undercover to investigate, and they found that this hospital’s blueprints included a giant suspicious unlabeled place that nobody knows anything the fuck about
oh my god. you guys. forget Tomura, could that also be where they’re keeping the Noumus?? omg. omg omg omg. omgggggggggggg. omg
-- AHHHHHHHHHH
IF THE NEXT PANEL ISN’T JUST A CHORUS OF EVERYONE IN THE ROOM ALL SAYING “WHAT THE FUCK” SIMULTANEOUSLY, I’M GONNA DEMAND SOME ANSWERS, BECAUSE LET ME TELL YOU, HAVING ALREADY KNOWN ALL ABOUT POOR JOHN-KUN AND ALL THIS FUCKED UP SHIT MYSELF, I STILL AUDIBLY SWORE OUT LOUD. AND YOU KNOW WHAT? I’M GONNA DO IT AGAIN TOO, BECAUSE WHAT THE FUCK
come on, is Pixie Bob the only one of you here with normal human reactions or what?!
RIGHT?! YOU ALL ARE LOOKING AT A TINY MOUND OF FLESH WITH VEINY BULGING EYES JUST OGGLING BLANKLY OUT FROM ITS EXPOSED BRAINS. NOT TO MENTION IT’S GOT TWO OF WHAT VAGUELY RESEMBLE EARS, BUT WHAT I’M PRETTY SURE ARE ACTUALLY NOSES?? AND A SEVERED SPINAL CORD TAIL DANGLING OUT FROM BEHIND. ALL OF WHICH IS PLASTERED TOGETHER LIKE A LUMPY MOLD OF CLAY ATOP TWO CHILD-SIZED LEGS, which are wearing fucking sneakers, with fucking velcro and shit. fuck. fuck
lol Nao
oh yes, not difficult at all. I’m sure he’ll come along real quietly. hey, let me know how that one works out, okay
“we have the trauma of Hosu and Kamino still haunting us.” thanks for that reminder. gonna have another city to add to that list real soon aren’t we. preemptive r.i.p. Jakku
oh man you guys. can you feel this tension building up
interesting how he says “destiny.” I wonder if that’s the actual dialogue. at any rate this overconfidence is terrifying and I would really like for you all to stop jinxing shit my dudes
-- WHAT DID I JUST SAY
holy shit. please tell me this is a separate group from the Endeavor group we saw at the end of the last chapter
but that doesn’t make any sense though, because this group has Midnight and Kamui, two of their deadliest and most efficient capture specialists. not to mention Edgeshot the literal ninja who can break into anywhere. so this really should be the vanguard here based on what I’m seeing, but if that’s the case why are the eighteen-year-old Tamaki and the sixteen-year-old Toadette right there with them?? can we not, you guys. can we not
fucking shit. at least they’ve got Ms. Joke there too to back them up. if we actually get to see her quirk in action I can die happy. and so, presumably, will the villains
so the “hospital team” (is that the Endeavor team??) said they’re gonna eliminate the villains’ warping ability, which presumably means John-kun. do they even know it’s him that does it?? they don’t seem to actually know who Ujiko fucking is so I have my doubts?
on the bright side though, it seems like this Midnight team is actually going to be raiding the mansion, and won’t be involved in the hospital raid. but on the less bright side, the mansion is arguably almost as dangerous. :/ that’s where Twice is!! and probably most of the League! but at least they don’t have a dozen Noumus in the basement just waiting to be unleashed
god. people, if we don’t get moving on this action soon I am going to give myself a damn heart attack. this is way too much suspense for a chill Friday night
son of a bitch that guy behind Toadette is Honenuki, I just realized. what the fuck, U.A. ?? “hey kids! guess what! we’re going on a field trip!!” ...
-- NO!!!!!!
IT WILL NOT BE ALL RIGHT!! DON’T YOU LIE TO THEM!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!! Tamaki, fine, okay, he’s experienced, and arguably more powerful than half the people there. Toadette, she’s just a kid, but she also tried to kill Tokoyami back during the joint training arc and I’m still not sure how I feel about that so whatever! Honenuki is probably the most responsible person in this entire group so fine. Tokoyami needs to be there to have a lot of angst about Hawks
but Kaminari. Kaminari fucking Denki. no. no, sir. excuse the fuck out of me. how fucking dare you. he is a five-year-old boy in the body of a high-voltage adolescent. and he’s maybe, just maybe, more powerful than anyone else in this fucking group but that still doesn’t give you the right to put this little baby boy RIGHT ON THE FRONT FUCKING LINES!! holy shit! HIS BLOOD IS ON YOUR HANDS!! I DON’T LIKE ANY OF THIS
OH MY GOD
RIGHT?!?!? omg omg omg omg omg
he’s literally wailing “I miss class 1-A” so loudly that it’s echoing all the way through the forest. see now that’s why you DON’T TAKE KAMINARI WITH YOU ON YOUR SECRET STEALTH ATTACK MISSION!! would somebody please point me towards whoever’s fucking idea this was so that I can go kick their fucking ass please and thank you
and here are the rest of them oh my god
Momo, Mina, Jirou, and Kiri at the forefront. okay, fine. this, I do like
so Edgeshot says they’ve surrounded the villains on all sides. man, no wonder they’re so worried about their warping capabilities. this is basically their one chance to capture all the bad guys in one fell swoop. I guess it makes more sense why all their capture specialists are in Edgeshot’s group, then
now I’m starting to wonder exactly what task lies in store for the Wonder Trio’s group, though? because they said evacuation, but is that really all there is to it? it’s no secret that Bakugou, Deku, and Todoroki are the three strongest interns they have. so you’re really expecting me to believe that they put baby Denki there on the front lines and yet plan on keeping their heaviest hitters in reserve? Nao is there more to this plan that you’re not telling us
oh shit Endeavor wants to know where his adopted chicken son is at
it genuinely does warm my heart to see Endeavor worrying about Hawks. I’m glad Hawks has at least one person out there who actually gives a shit about him. even if that person is mister father of the year here. the plot thickens
I wonder if Enji would actually die to save Hawks, if it came to that. which I’m not saying it would. but we all know some fucking shit is about to go down so I’m just having these thoughts here okay!
Nao always looks so tired nowadays. man
so he clearly does know who Endeavor’s talking about, though. one of these days I’d like to get a clearer understanding of what exactly Naomasa’s rank is and how high he is in terms of clearance, because the idea that he’s actually privy to more information than the number one fucking hero is kind of bonkers to me, ngl. this guy is literally just a detective, right?? not even a commissioner or anything. and yet he’s involved in everything. I used to suspect that he might be the traitor lol, and while I’m pretty sure by now that’s not the case, I’m still curious as to exactly what his deal is. does he even have a quirk?? anyways
so now Endeavor is hmphing and stomping off, and meanwhile there are some closeups of Mic and Aizawa
is that a whistle. do you guys think Mic could literally kill a man with his voice. shit. why do I kind of want to see it happen
as for Endeavor, I wonder if he was the one who made sure that his son and his friends weren’t on the front lines with the rest of them. sometimes it’s good to have some influence in these things
looooooool as if on cue
well. that sure doesn’t sound like he intends to keep them out of harm’s way. does he really have that much faith in them??
serious question, why exactly are all of the heroes seemingly so confident that this is going to work? it scares me because it makes me feel like in spite of Hawk’s intel they still don’t have a clue what they’re truly up against
so now we’re cutting to some random street somewhere and WOULD YOU LOOK WHO IT FUCKING IS
Slidin’ Go Suck An Egg. oh how I hate this man
look at him
I hate his stupid face!
OH SHIT
TRAFFIC CONE MAN, ARE YOU FINALLY GOING TO REDEEM YOURSELF FOR NOT RESCUING KACCHAN ON THAT DAY TWO YEARS AGO BECAUSE YOU WERE AFRAID OF A LITTLE SLUDGE? BECAUSE I’M HERE FOR IT! IF YOU WANT TO JUST GO AHEAD AND SNAP HIS NECK, I WILL TURN THE OTHER WAY AND ACT LIKE I DIDN’T SEE, I PROMISE
wow, Burnin’s team really is just evacuating people
I mean they’re obviously going to run into a Noumu, and just like that they’ll be in more danger than anyone, but at least for now it really does seem like the minds behind this raid wanted to keep them relatively out of danger. so yeah, for now I’m gonna chalk that up to Endeavor’s influence that they’re here rather than in the forest with the rest of their class
and here comes the hospital team!
well that answers my question about Nao’s rank. so he’s not even a chief. that really is fucking ridiculous but whatever
and why do I feel like this poor undercover subordinate is mere seconds away from becoming the first casualty in what I think is about to become the most violently snafued situation we’ve seen in this manga to date. like this shit is going to make Kamino look like the fucking state fair. fuck
...
I really wish I could believe that he was about to go down and it really was going to be just that easy
HERE WE GO!!
(ETA: so then they do know that he’s the guy who made the Noumu? including the one that nearly took him out in Kyushu? and they’re still acting like this is going to be a walk in the park? ?? what??)
knock knock, who’s there, JUSTICE
YESSSSSSS
(ETA: sure hope Endeavor’s light here doesn’t go summoning any darkness. welp.)
YOU’RE UNDER ARREST FOR CRIMES OF BEING TOO HORRIBLE TO EVEN FUCKING CONTEMPLATE, LET ALONE JOKE ABOUT! YOU SON OF A BITCH, GET FUCKED
oh my god. we’re really just gonna end it like that. well I guess next chapter we can all play a fun game of “let’s all count the pages until everything goes horribly wrong.” won’t that be a laugh. 10 to 1 the Noumu really are in the secret room and they’re all gonna be set loose by next week’s cliffhanger. remind me to have “Into the Trap” by John Williams cued up and ready to go lol
#bnha 259#ujiko daruma#tsukauchi naomasa#endeavor#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#makeste reads bnha#all wings report in#lock s-foils in attack positions#may the force be with us#? we've gotta be able to get some kind of a reading on that shield up or down#well how could they be jamming us if they don't know --#-- if we're coming ...!!#break off the attack! the shield is still up!#PULL UP! ALL CRAFT PULL UP#TAKE EVASIVE ACTION#ADMIRAL WE HAVE ENEMY SHIPS IN SECTOR 47#IT'S A TRAP#why can I still quote this movie verbatim from memory lol sigh
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Jack's End of Year Video Game Round-up.
There were many things I couldn't do this year, being in lockdown and all, which in turn meant I played a hell of a lot more video games than I normally do. Here's a quick rundown of what I thought of them.
Hitman 2
IO have sort of perfected the Hitman formula now, so future entries in the series simply have to ask the question of what new directions you can take that formula. In that regard Hitman 2 is a resounding success, setting sneaking and assassination in scenarios around the world from race tracks to holiday resorts, and thus making it the best entry yet. It's possible one day the Hitman conceit will wear thin, but today is not that day.
Thronebreaker
Most people will go into Thronebreaker just wanting a stand-alone version of the Gwent we played during Witcher 3. Thronebreaker is not that. Indeed, even beyond the changes to the mechanics brought in by the online version, Thronebreaker is more of a puzzle game which uses the mechanics of Gwent to concoct unique scenarios. Still, the story is pretty good and it is fun overall, even if it didn't end up scratching the itch left by Gwent.
Black Mesa (Xen)
I returned to Black Mesa after Xen was finally added, eager to see what the team had come up with. My feelings are complicated. The Xen portions of the game are really well designed, great to play and visually beautiful. However the levels hew so far from the Half-Life originals that it kind of stops feeling like Half-Life. I would have like to have seen a more faithful recreation to be honest.
Neon Struct
If you've been wanting a spiritual sequel to Thief that actually used the mechanics of Thief, here you go. Though low budget, and therefore having somewhat uninspiring visuals based on reused assets, it's still a really impressive game from what the team had to work with, and it's short enough that it doesn't outstay it's welcome.
Acid Spy
I'm generally usually okay at stealth games but this one was well beyond my skill level. Got through the tutorial but just got frustrated and quit on the first mission.
Salting the Earth
A wonderfully put together visual novel about the legacy of war and the nature of national identities. Also you date buff orc women. One of the best VNs I've played, but it does have some pretty bleak potential endings that clash somewhat with the rest of the story's tone.
Hedon
Speaking of buff orc women, Hedon is a vivid, perfectly designed retro-shooter that really uses the most of it's engine to bring it's world to life, with shades of Thief and Strife thrown in there. Wears its hornieness on it's sleeve, but if you can roll with that you'll have nothing but a good time.
The Painscreek Killings
I really really loved this immersive narrative game, where you explore an abandoned town to piece together a series of suspicious deaths. My only gripes are the town looks very British despite being set in the US, and the final confrontation adding a chase scene felt a little over dramatic.
Deus Ex Mankind Divided
There are many problems with Mankind Divided. Trying to find another story to do with Adam Jensen. Making the game more of an open world by taking away the usual Deus Ex globe-trotting. The clumsy use of racial metaphor being applied to cyborgs. All in all the game just didn't really come together, which is a shame, because the DLC showed such promise, and hinted at the real Deus Ex game we could have had.
Warhammer Armageddon DLC
I managed to complete the Salamanders DLC and got stuck near the end of the Blood Angels one. All in all it's simply 'more' of what the base game offered, and I'm not sure it really needed it.
Unavowed
Easily one of the most interesting games I played this year. So good It inspired me to write a cheesy fanfic. Sure the mechanics of applying squad mechanics to a point and click are interesting, but it's the world, the art and the characters themselves that really make this game. Highly recommended.
Devil Daggers
The ultimate distillation of classic shooter mechanics. One platform, one weapon, endless enemies. I didn't get all that far into it and I think most people won't, but I'm not going to complain for the price. Overdue a revisit.
Dream Daddy
A fun and fluffy dating game that actually does a good job of putting you into the mindset of a recently bereaved bisexual dad. Come for the hunks, stay for the really affecting story of a strained relationship between father and daughter.
Greedfall
Greedfall falls short of the mark in most aspects, but I have to give it credit for being one of the few games to give us a Bioware companion-centric adventure during this drought of Bioware games. It lacks the zing of something like Dragon Age, and handles the subject of colonialism really problematically, but if you can get past those issues, it's a fun ride, and a world I'd like to revisit.
Endless Legend
I've been wanting a game to scratch the Alpha Centauri itch for decades now and Endless Legend finally did it. There is a risk of being overwhelmed by the sheer number of unique factions to play, and I know I still haven't really scratched the surface even after 4 full campaigns. Is that a criticism? I suppose it depends if you think you can have too much of a good thing.
Space Hulk Deathwing Enhanced Edition
A valiant effort was put in to make a faithful FPS of the Space Hulk experience, but ultimately it falls far too short. The visuals look great and the game-feel of stomping around as a Space Marine really works, but the game lacks charm and character. Up against Vermintide, there's no comparison.
Sunless Sea
This is a game that feels like a bottomless abyss of secrets and mysteries tied up in a very brutal one-life-only system. I really enjoyed my time with Sunless Seas, with the music calling me like a wailing siren every now and again, yet in many ways I did find it a bit too unforgiving, and it could have benefited from having a bit more of a progression between lives than the almost solid reset it leaves you with.
Age of Empires / 2 / 3 Definitive Editions
The first Age of Empires has an important place in history, but is borderline unplayable by today's standards. Almost every aspect was improved in 2 and going back now feels like trading a car for a horse and cart. It's clear that the game was intending your slow crawl out of the stone age through hunting and gathering to be part of the game in its own right, but today it's just tedious, and the rest of the game is just so slow.
There isn't much to say about Age of Empire 2 that I haven't already said, but I will point out that multiplayer AOE2 has kept me sane over the course of the lockdown, and I'm glad the Definitive Edition enhanced that experience.
Age of Empire 3 tried too hard to reinvent the wheel. Instead of taking 2 and building on it, it instead contorted it around a colonisation theme, and it didn't really work. On top of that, the mechanics really felt they were built more for single-player story missions. The maps are too small, and the expansion factions clash with the rules badly. Still, there is fun to be had, and I'll be checking out the campaigns next year.
Hand of Fate 2
This game takes the original Hand of Fate and adds way, way too much into it. While I appreciate the addition of companions, a longer story mode, and optional side missions, the game is far too experimental with it's formula, and leaves me struggling with complex missions around being lost in a desert or evading barbarian hordes, when all I wanted was a straight forward dungeon crawl. I tapped out two thirds of the way through the campaign.
Wild Guns Reloaded
I love the style and aesthetic, but I just don't have the reflexes (or the gamepad) for these fast paced arcade games.
Vermintide 2 Drakenfels
Fatshark gave us an entire Vermintide campaign for free this year, at the cost of having to be subjected to obnoxious cosmetic micro-tranactions. Hard to say it was worth the price, but Fatshark really do continue to improve, bringing new scope and ideas to every new mission. As good as it gets.
Pendula Swing
A fun little game that apes the visuals of a Baldur's Gate style RPG but the mechanics of a point and click adventure game set in a fantasy version of the roaring twenties. A strong introduction to it's setting but definitely needs building on if we're to see a continuation. A lot of the world-building feels too simple and half-baked at times, and the gameplay feels like too much is going on too fast. Still, a charming story though.
The Shiva / The Blackwell Series
At first I had no idea that Unavowed was connected to a host of other Wadget Eye adventure games, so naturally I had to check them out. I'd known about The Shiva and the Blackwell games for years, but never actually thought about picking them up. Playing them all back to back was a great experience, and almost felt like a prototype to the episodic storytelling many games do today.
Lara Croft and the Guardian of Light/Temple of Osiris
Guardian of Light is a fun, inventive co-op game for killing some time with a friend. The puzzles are often unique and interesting and get you thinking, and the story, while nothing fantastic, is fun enough to keep you interested and have a laugh about with your co-op partner in a B-Movie kind of way. Temple of Osiris adds way too much to the formula, with more characters, mechanics and more open exploration and it absolutely loses the charm of the first game, and even then it's buggy as hell. Skip the second one.
Command and Conquer Remastered
Big chunks of my childhood are taken up with memories of playing Command and Conquer and Red Alert, so it's difficult to really gauge my thoughts on the remaster. On the one hand the art direction looks great and preserves the feel of the original, and the quality of life improvements to the gameplay help make it more playable. The nostalgia hit is also palpable. That being said, the mechanics have not aged all that well, with much of the game being far, far too hard. Probably the best way to experience the genesis of the RTS genre but just know what you're getting in for.
Superhot Mind Control Delete
I wrote a lot at length about how unsure I was about Mind Control Delete at the time, and that's because it does feel a little unsure about itself. Is it a continuation of the first game? A fun bonus mode? A mediation on the nature of addiction? A critique of video game content? A joke on the player? I don't know, but I do know one thing, and that is that Superhot is still as addictive as hell.
Opus Magnum
Zachtronic's steampunk alchemy game requires far too much maths brain than I am capable of , and so I had to rely on guides a lot of the time, but that being said, it's still amazingly put together and vividly presented. Really feels like a game that could be used in schools.
Necromunda Underhive Wars (Story Mode)
I'll be checking out Underhive's Campaign mode in the new year, but for now I just want to talk about the story mode. Much like Mordheim, this is a game that's not going to work for everyone, but I really dug it and like it's unique take on a squad based TBS. However, in many respects the game does feel like a missed opportunity. The storyline is fun enough, and the arsenal robust, but much of the character of the tabletop game, the weird, chaotic, and sometimes comical things that can happen over the course of a battle seems to have been lost in translation, as has the quirky character to a lot of the gangs.
Outer Wilds
There is little I can say about Outer Wilds that hasn't already been said by others, particularly that one should go into the game as blind as possible. A beautiful piece of interactive art, words would fail me in describing it anyway.
Life is Strange 2
Fantastically written, amazingly animated, wonderfully acted, and grim and depressing as all hell. I really love Life is Strange 2, but it it a tough game to bare witness to, especially in 2020. It treats it's subject matter with great maturity, but is so dark it's hard to motivate yourself to continue each gruelling episode. Also, I really think it would have fared better if it had not named itself Life is Strange 2, as not following Max and Chloe turned a lot of people away from a game I think they'd have otherwise enjoyed if they'd named it Wolf Brothers or something.
Half Life 2 / Episodes / Portal / 2/ Mel
After playing Black Mesa earlier this year I decided to revisit the entire Half Life 2 and Portal series. What I concluded is that Half Life 2 is not really all that good. A well told story wrapped around weak combat and average encounter design. This much improves across the episodes of course, but in the end I rather feel Half Life 2 is pretty overrated.
Portal, on the other hand, still feels fresh, though I was surprised I'd forgotten just how much was added in Portal 2, to the point Portal feels more like a game demo. That being said, I think the slowly growing mystery and menace of Portal has aged a lot better than the gagfest the series became with 2. Mel, a stand-alone mod that feels like could be a Portal 3 in it's own right, returns to a more serious tone, and feels all the stronger because of it.
Control
Control has gone from a game I didn't really care about all that much to one of my favourites of the year, if not the decade. Sure there are criticisms I could make, but the world has so much depth, the characters so much potential, and the gameplay such perfectly designed chaos, that it wouldn't really matter. A great time was had.
Icewind Dale 2
Finishing Icewind Dale 2 was the final banishing of the old ghosts of Infinity Engine games I never finished as a kid. Sure there was the nostalgia, but Icewind Dale 2 also feels prefect for the Baldurs Gate era's swan song. Beautiful environments, a well written story and great interface and design, only pulled down due to some overly long busywork at various points and the plot being dragged on a little too long. Still, sad to know I have no further Infinity Engine games left to conquer.
Elsinore
The first half of Elsinore is an absolutely great time-loop mystery, which seems to be an interesting interrogation of Shakespearian tropes and asks the question of how much of a Shakespearian tragedy remains the more you change it. The second half, however, quickly devolves into a cosmic horror story that feels a poor fit for the genre and far too grim for the art style, and that's even before it basically devolves into trying to do the same thing Undertale did but worse. A well put together game whose ending did not sit well with me.
Gwent: The Witcher Card Game
Since Thronebreaker didn't sate my appetite I started playing competitive Gwent. It is a wholly different game than the one that appears in The Wither 3, but is certainly fascinating in it's own right. After 200 hours I am officially addicted, somebody please send help.
And that's that. Not doing a top 5 games of the year because I played too many this year and I've spent too much time thinking about them already. Here's hoping I play less in 2021 and can get back to a more normal life.
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A Quietus Interview October 1st, 2018
Blue Sky Thinking: Suede Interviewed
John Doran spends the afternoon with Brett Anderson, Neil Codling and Richard Oakes in order to get to the bottom of The Blue Hour - one of their strongest, wildest and most experimental albums to date
To celebrate The Blue Hour’s second anniversary, here’s my favourite Suede-related piece of media of all-time. Full article by John Doran for the Quietus under the cut.
I have to walk some distance from Notting Hill Gate to get to Brett Anderson’s house. Past a record shop I haven’t visited for years, beyond the penumbra of Carnival, to a tidy arc of elegant townhouses lining a peaceful street I’ve never had reason to walk down before.
Inside, nothing is on view. Everything is immaculate. He clearly lives to a minimalist ideal, with life’s necessary bits and bobs tucked out of sight behind featureless doors that could well be mistaken for wall panels. Even dressed in his scruffs (faded jeans! moccasins!) Anderson is impossibly - irritatingly - handsome. His chiselling maintains its youthful spatial integrity; his skin does not bear witness to his many historical years of debauch. He is welcoming and a good host (“Do I have green tea? Of course. Let me get you some”); and this is despite the fact that simply by being in his gaff, plugging in an iPhone, throwing my jacket over a chair, setting up a recorder, getting crumpled sheets of notes out of an old tote, I am clearly cluttering the place up. He unfolds immaculately onto an unreasonably large sofa facing me on the other side of the room. There’s a big space between us but nothing fills that gap. There are no photographs in frames, no niknaks, no piles of shoes, no half read newspapers, no childrens toys, no takeaway fliers, no TV remote… no TV in fact. At first it feels like Brett Anderson himself is the centrepiece in the dream home.
But in reality if this excessive tidiness is evidence of anything it is of a larger shift in focus. The core of the Suede singer’s life has been relocated to the Somerset countryside, where he now lives with his wife, a stepson and Lucian, his six year old. And this of course has knocked on to everything else, creatively speaking at least. The unthinkable has happened and the clearly defined milieu of Suede - the modern city edgelands of housing estates, late night cab ranks, bedsits, sodium-lit mean streets - has transmuted. The urban has become the rural.
One of his first creative acts on moving out to the sticks in the Summer of 2016 was to write a book and co-write an album in parallel. His (genuinely excellent) memoir, Coal Black Mornings came out in March of this year and deals with his life pre-fame so his move to the countryside is reflected most clearly in Suede’s new studio album - their eighth in twenty five years - The Blue Hour.
Speaking about the intense period of creativity Anderson says: “They definitely bled into one another. I’d be writing the album during the day time when the kids were at school, so I could make a lot of noise, and then once I’d done the school run and got them back home, I’d sit at my computer and write Coal Black Mornings quietly.
“And the memories that writing the book dredged up fed back into the writing of the songs for the album. A track like ‘The Invisibles’ was a very specific example of that. The protagonist is like a callow 17 year old who is tortured by unrequited love. So I was projecting myself now back into that version of myself and it ended up becoming a dialogue between me and my father.”
The idea of fatherhood looms large over both projects. Coal Black Mornings may well be dedicated to his son Lucian but Anderson went a step further with The Blue Hour, which features the six year old in a speaking role. He says: “Early on I knew I wanted the album to be from a child’s point of view. For the last two albums my muse has been my son. It used to be friends or lovers but now it’s him. I see life through his eyes. Every picture I take is a picture with him in it somewhere.
“With the album I wanted to write about childhood but not in a sugary way. And so I imagined the fearful world that a child sees, and in a way that became a reflection of my own childhood.”
As well as his son, his (eccentric and occasionally overbearing) father is also present on the album. (“There are little references to him here and there.”) It is clear he has spent a lot of time recently considering his place between these two figures: “The father is a reflection of the son and so on and so on. He is a point on a continuum.”
The phrase ‘speaking as a father’ is often the last refuge of the scoundrel so, speaking as a member of the human race, I feel duty bound to point out to him that there is a darkness on the album that I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy. The subject matter is not something I could spend any amount of time meditating upon myself. There are no spoilers in music but I’m aware that talking excessively about the narrative of this album could detract from a perceived puzzlebox element to this record. Let us leave it at this: the blue hour of the title refers not just to twilight but it marks the point where concern for a missing child turns into anguished hysteria as night falls.
Anderson considers the question carefully: “I almost don’t want to let these things into the room but then I can’t help it. The way I deal with it, morally, is that there’s no suggestion in which I’m wishing any of this upon my son. The scenario is a fear that all parents have, and the album also involves me seeing myself as a child and displaced and lost in the woods. So the theme is more metaphorical than anything else.”
Lucian’s star turn behind the mic is undoubtedly one of the album’s odder moments. The proud dad explains: “‘Dead Bird’ is a recording of me and my son talking; it was just a lucky accident. I had tried to get him to read things out but because he’s only five, it just sounded really wooden. It didn’t work at all. So I just thought, ‘Ok, I’m going to go into the garden and try and to create a scene which will pique his interest.’ So I went into the garden and started digging and, intrigued, he came over and said, ‘Daddy, what are we digging for?’ So I said, ‘You know what we’re digging for.’ And luckily he said, ‘The dead bird.’ And it was just brilliant. A few months before I’d buried a dead bird for him, you see, because we were going to dig it up and look at its skeleton. I do this sort of thing with him quite a bit. How was it? It was horrible really - I think we’d dug it up too early. It needed a while longer.”
Referring to the other field recordings - of a group of adults frantically searching for the missing child played by his son - he says: “I’ve lived properly in the Somerset countryside for two years now, where it’s legal to do things like that and no one can hear you scream.”
He continues, gingerly: “If there’s one thing that no one tells you before you have a child, it’s how terrified it will make you. The utter fear that if something happens, how impossible it would be to recover and the fact that your life would effectively be over. In a way it’s stronger than the fear about your own mortality, it’s a different level of fear.
“I’ve always had this… my mother died of cancer. I’ve always had this obsession with cancer and avoiding it if I possibly can but that’s nothing compared to my fears for the wellbeing of my family. I suddenly feel much more vulnerable now I have a family. When it’s four in the morning and you’re thinking, ‘God, what if something happened?’ I absolutely reject the idea that if you have a so-called straight or comfortable life this stuff is somehow easier - it isn’t. When you have a family you have so much more to lose.”
He brightens and adds: “So initially all I had was this theme of childhood. And once I had that initial idea then I had to come up with more ideas, through brainstorming. I isolated myself in the countryside with Richard and Neil and started writing songs. It felt almost like we were in a creative crucible…”
And if you speak of handsome devils, then they will arrive. Lead guitarist Richard Oakes and keyboard player and rhythm guitarist Neil Codling, join the lyricist on his remarkably large sofa. Together they make up the songwriting core of the band. The two guitarists are dressed like the eternal students that I guess in some ways they are but each having his own sartorial spin on this look that probably mirrors his role in the wider songwriting dynamic. Codling, who has recently become the band’s de facto arranger and producer, is more of a fine-detail aesthetician to Oakes’ (self-proclaimed) engineer; someone unafraid to roll his sleeves up and take a peek under the bonnet.
If Anderson is a country gent now, this hasn’t been a move adopted by the whole band. Codling is keen to re-establish the urban credentials of the rest of them: “Yes, the rest of Suede are still city boys, apart from Simon who lives in rural Thailand next to a rice paddy. That’s about as countryside as you can get.”
The singer chimes in: “Moving to the countryside has made me miss London. When I come back to London I just breathe it in. The countryside is amazing when the weather is good and at this time of year it’s beautiful. I go out and sit in the garden with my boy and I say, ‘We are blessed.’ But then in November it’s like a fucking nightmare.”
Codling jokes good naturedly: “You know how Brian Wilson had to put the feet of his piano in sand while he was writing? Well Brett now has his piano standing in a gravel pit to remind him of the city.”
Anderson recalls the trio’s initial songwriting sessions in his rural kitchen with a perverse fondness: “We wanted to do that thing of us three disappearing off to the countryside. And in the process I thought we would go a bit mad, and end up almost murdering each other.”
Luckily it didn’t come to that and one of the first things to emerge from the session was the maximal, jaw-dropping and gothic ‘As One’. Oakes says, “As soon as we came up with it we said, ‘OK… it’s going to be that kind of record.’ So despite the blazing sunshine outside, we knew it was going to be a cold record.”
Anderson explains: “There are always what I call anchor songs on each album. And it’s often that song that sets the blueprint for the album. When you start making a new album you’re fumbling about with vague ideas but until you write that song, you don’t quite know where to go with it.”
‘As One’ is certainly the most dramatic album opener the band have written since ‘Introducing The Band’ and probably their most dramatic album opener full stop. Anderson says it had a Cecil B. DeMille size from the start and Codling agrees that even as a demo it had a menace to it: “However big you want to make it, you can do. It can still take a choir, it can still take a string section.”
Oakes drops a tantalising hint that ‘As One’ is perhaps Suede’s ‘Helter Skelter’, an epic, and heavy track possessed of so much gravity that needed heavy editing to make it album compatible. He suggests that really they could have gone much further with it: “For a while Neil and I were fiddling about with this 15-minute-long version which just smashes into a wall and goes straight into ‘Wastelands’. But nobody will ever hear that…”
Even as it is, ‘As One’ set the tone for what would become a bold record indeed. Taking something of a gamble in today’s unforgiving marketplace, the band opted for producing a cohesive whole designed to be listened to in one sitting, as opposed to a collection of stand alone Suede bangers ready to be strip-mined and isolated for Spotify playlist inclusion. If this approach has seen them shunned by the kind of radio stations who would normally support them, then more shame on the querulous, narrow shouldered types who construct radio playlists and have little faith in the intelligence or taste of their listeners. (And double shame on them for not fully realising the radio potential of ‘Cold Hands’, ‘Life Is Golden’ and ‘Flytipping’ - experimental album or not.)
As it is The Blue Hour stands alone in their back catalogue as a fully realised concept album which achieves cohesion via narrative, lyrics, spoken word passages, repeated musical themes, field recordings and narration. If I had to compare it to anything from their back catalogue I’d mention Dog Man Star - not something I do lightly - and that would be in terms of ambition, execution and impact. It slaps hard. Once you have acclimatised to it, The Blue Hour makes you grin and shake your head at their sheer chutzpah. It makes your heart rage behind your ribs. It reactivates long-snoozing sensuous psychedelic glam glands. It demands an immediate rewind.
Like with any classic album in a band’s catalogue, it can feel like everything has been leading up to this point. After their return in 2010 they had a lot to prove. First that they had to show that they had the damned verve necessary simply to be Suede as a live entity once more. This was quickly asserted with savage efficiency by a blistering fanclub gig at the 100 Club and then an all time best show at the Royal Albert Hall. The Bloodsports album in 2013 was, in part, an act of contrition for relaxing their standards somewhat with 1999’s Head Music and abandoning what it meant to be Suede entirely with 2002’s A New Morning. They were reconnecting with the core idea of the group in 2013 - it was a reboot, if you will. With Night Thoughts, in 2016, the cinematic sequencing of the tracks created its own forward momentum and bound the tracks together somewhat but it was The Blue Hour that sealed the deal.
Referring to the album as a unified piece of work Codling says: “We live in the world of Spotify and Deezer when you’re supposed to write songs and hope that they end up on playlists, because that’s how you play the music business these days. We thought we’d be bloody-minded and make something that people would have to listen to for three quarters of an hour. People do listen to long playlists and they do watch box sets, so they do have longer attention spans than they’re given credit for. We decided to introduce listeners to a sound world that they can move through. The narrative is there but you don’t necessarily need to know what it is; it’s more like the scaffolding.”
Anderson nods: “Yes it is. The narrative is the scaffolding that allows us to arrange the tracks and once they’re in place we can take the scaffolding away.”
“Otherwise”, notes Codling, “it becomes like Jonathan Livingston Seagull or some turgid, 70s concept album.”
The band have referred to the album as the closing chapter of a triptych. If the original intention was to have a unifying sonic identity binding the three albums together in a series however, this was upset when original producer Ed Buller left the project before it was complete - something that has actually proved serendipitous in the long run.
Buller - who had previously worked on Suede, Dog Man Star and Coming Up as producer and engineer as well as producing all of Bloodsports and some of Night Thoughts - was so trusted that he had essentially become a sixth member of the band, song veto and all. But he was courted by Hollywood and relocated to California, thus creating a very Suede-like problem. The tone in Oakes’ voice when he says, “Well, we weren’t going to record the album in Los Angeles...” suggests that actually a winter recording session in the frozen ice fields of the permanently night-bound Patagonia was a more likely scenario. Anderson nods calling the very idea of them recording in America at all “bizarre”.
The band, impressed with his work on various albums by Ride, Foals and The Killers, got in touch with lauded mixer Alan Moulder, who agreed to come out of retirement as producer to work on their record at Assault and Battery studios, London. “I think once we reassured him that we weren’t dysfunctional and were actually hard working he was quite happy with the idea. I think he’s worked with a lot of dysfunctional bands in the past. He did the second Elastica album didn’t he? You can imagine what that must have been like”, says Oakes, before adding: “Bless them…”
But really, all due respect to the great alt-rock mixer, the most significant thing about the departure of Buller wasn’t that it created room for Moulder but that it created even more room within the band for Codling. Self-effacing isn’t quite the term for it when the keyboardist says: “We had to pick up what [Buller] left us of Night Thoughts and cobble it together into what came out.” All the evidence shows that the six months he spent completing that album gave him the confidence to assume the role of de facto producer, or co-producer, on the current one.
Anderson agrees: “The fact that Neil did most of the last six months on Night Thoughts on his own gave us the confidence to look at The Blue Hour slightly differently. Ed previously had been a real tastemaker, saying, ‘This is good’ or ‘No, that’s not good enough’ which created a bit of a weird dynamic. You stop being able to really trust yourself. And with The Blue Hour we got confidence back in our own judgement.”
When Codling says, “There are songs that would never have made it onto the album if Ed had been involved, songs like ‘Roadkill’, ‘Chalk Circles’ or ‘Tides’ for example”, he hits on something quite important. Ed Buller’s departure freed up Suede to make their grandest and yet most experimental album to date.
In terms of grand ambition, the most noticeable thing on the album is the use of strings and a choir. The Prague Philharmonic appear on nine tracks - all but one of which were arranged by Codling. (‘The Invisibles’ was the work of Craig Armstrong who had worked with the band on Coming Up.) But this isn’t the case of an orchestra being used to hide a multitude of sins or to imply emotion or drama where there is none. As Oakes points out: “Strings framed things on the last album whereas on this album they are part of the picture.”
It is fascinating hearing a string section suddenly become a vibrant and essential part of the Suede sound, rather than simply an occasional colouring device. But any fans worrying that this heralds a slump into tepid, middle age should reassure themselves that if anything, the opposite is true. Just as Neil is happy to list classical pieces which informed his approach to writing orchestrally for the group (“Ravel’s ‘The Child And The Spells’ and ‘Mother Goose’… Debussy’s ‘The Snow Is Rising’… The strange sense of foreboding created by ‘The Threnody To The Victims Of Hiroshima’ by Penderecki…”) he is also happy to list the more leftfield influences that informed the album’s wild and psychedelic moments such as ‘Chalk Circles’ and ‘Dead Bird’ (“Velvet Underground’s ‘The Gift’... Electric Ladyland by Hendrix…”)
‘Roadkill’ is one particular dramatic, narcotic, poetic passage that ramps up the manic air of rural terror, standing somewhere between Edgar Allan Poe’s ‘The Raven’, Ted Hughes’ ‘February 17th’ and David Bowie’s ‘Future Legend’, being conjured amid the ebb and flow of scraped strings, controlled feedback, heavily phased vocals and dubbed out tendrils of noise disappearing recursively into the mix. The singer says: “I think it’s a risk. And if people want something to beat us with we’re handing them a stick with these songs but sometimes you just have to take that risk.
���It’s quite a brave track to come up with - you have to be quite confident. It teeters on the line doesn’t it? Some people would say it was quite pretentious with me reading this Edgar Allen Poe-like verse about a dead bird. I mean, it doesn’t sound like the Stereophonics.”
And the influences don’t just stem from the musical leftfield either. Codling adds: “A lot of folk horror is set in that kind of Claude Lorrain, chocolate box, pastoral vision of the rural before it ends up revealing itself to be something much darker. When we were writing the album we wanted to reference films like The Wicker Man (1973), And Soon The Darkness (1970) and Penda’s Fen (1974). At the same time I was reading a lot of [British folklore inspired fantasy novelist] Alan Garner and it kind of bled into the whole feeling.”
The carrion and the folk horror all conspired to create a very specific geographical place. Anderson says: “The Blue Hour in a very unpleasant version of the English countryside and not what you would find in a or John Constable painting. I wanted to portray the countryside as quite a bleak, unpleasant landscape. The roadkill, the b-roads, the fly-tipping. As a city dweller you can kind of romanticise the countryside as this kind of Arcadian idyll. And having lived there again for a couple of years, it just isn’t. There is a lot of ugliness and cruelty. Take the cows lowing. Someone told me the reason female cows low a lot - you hear them groaning - is because they’re separated from their calves. That puts a really different perspective on things. We live near a farm and I used to think, ‘Oh, that’s a nice sound isn’t it?’ And now when I hear it I just think of these mothers who have had their babies torn away from them. I like to think about the darkness in all things and I don’t really think Suede works unless we look at the darkness. It’s what I like to tease out in our music.”
The Blue Hour is out now
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