#it’s not like Dune. you can’t get higher praise from me than ‘not like dune’

[briar-rolfes-research-oubliette]

I’m becoming Hyperion by Dan Simmons-pilled

‘confirmed by the All Thing’ more like. All the dialogue I needed to go apeshit

[johannstutt413]

(requested by mathmaticalknight)

Blemishine was in the Engineering Department, hiding from Zofia with her fellow tech-heads as she often did, the day she first encountered the Nian. She’d heard rumors about the meandering meddling metallurgist and her amorphous armaments, but it was only when the Doctor finally gave in and let her work with the Department that the Kuranta came into contact with her.

“Workshop #3 just sent up the results from their latest alloy test,” Passenger reported matter-of-factly. “No progress.”

“I’m definitely starting to see why we haven’t figured this thing out. It’s like the metal is...alive.” Blemishine was watching VODs of Nian’s combat performance to try and get some new data-

-which meant she was the perfect target when the real Nian arrived and glanced over her shoulder. “Well, you look like you’re having fun.”

“She’s incredible, isn’t she?” The knight looked over her shoulder, realized it was THE Nian standing over her, and with a blush said, “You’re incredible.”

“A lot of people don’t trust me, that’s true. I’m gonna borrow her, alright, Elliot?”

The Liberi waved an arm. “Bring her back in one piece.”

“Oh, you know I’d never hurt a hair on her head.” She hooked one of her arms under one of the Kuranta’s and pulled her out of her chair. “Let’s go.”

“Ehh? O-okay! I’ll be back, Passenger!” And without any resistance, Maria was off on an adventure.

At least, she thought that’s what was happening, though the Nian didn’t exactly explain as they walked through the corridors of Rhodes Island in the direction of the shuttle bay. “What’s your name, kid? I haven’t seen you around much.”

“Blemishine’s my codename, but you can call me Maria.” Honestly, she’d prefer the latter. “Is it true you’re not a Rhodes Island employee? I know you spend a lot of time in Engineering, and I mean, you’d have to be a smith to have a weapon as cool as yours, but I’ve never seen you in person before.”

“Closure offered me a job, but that’s not why I’m here. You like shopping? We’re heading into town.” Now wasn’t the time for worrying about the future; she did that plenty on her own, especially with Dusk around now.

The knight shrugged. “Auntie and I go every now and again, and when I needed new parts for my projects I’d go out to get them, but since I started helping out at the Department I don’t have as much time for that.”

“Projects?” Nian smiled to herself. “Like trying to recreate my weapon? I hope y’all figure it out.”

“Oh, that’s for the Workshop, it’s fun but not really the kind of thing I’d do in my free time, you know? I’m a mechanic at heart, and now that I’m working for the Department, maybe they’ll let me supe up one of the shuttles. I used to have a car that could get some real speed going before I became a competition knight...”

Thinking about the past was just as bad, but fortunately they’d reached the shuttles. “So you wanna mess around with one of these?”

“We’re here already? And yeah, that’d be really fun! They don’t run on quite the same intake system I’m used to, and I’d have to make some openings in the hood to fit everything on I’d need to, and then there’s the nitrous canisters- oh, there I go again.” Blemishine didn’t know many people who actually wanted to listen to her talk about this kind of stuff. “Sorry about that!”

“What do you mean? Keep going! I hate when people try to tamp down on their enthusiasm just to make other people happy, and you were really building up steam there.” Plus, she was super cute when she got excited.

Maria blushed again. “Alright, but only because you asked. So obviously we’d have to start with taking one of these babies apart - I think I could get Broca to help out with that, it really takes two people to get a car onto a maintenance lift when you’re trying to keep the engine cool - because they won’t let me look at the schematics yet even though I asked Closure specifically if I could...”

The entire drive into town was essentially like that; the knight went into the blow-by-blow description of what she wanted the shuttle to look like under the hood when she was done, and Nian only occasionally interrupted with an insight or a question to help her along. She was impressed with how much the Kuranta actually knew despite not having much opportunity to act on that knowledge back in Kazimierz (Nearl’s sister, no question about where she was from), but more than that, she was reminded of some of her old acquaintances who used to get the same gleams in their eyes when talking about sword-smithing or armor-forging. This girl wasn’t like her usual kidnappees for sure.

“-Hey, Nian?” Blemishine looked out the window. “I think we drove past town.”

“Did we? Shit, I guess we did.”

They weren’t turning around. “Are we gonna keep going?”

“Just a little bit.” The Nian smiled to herself. “I was going to take you shopping, but since we’ve been talking about cars, there’s a place I wanna show you. Might help out with this plan you’ve got.”

“Oh, it’s not really a plan, just some ide- is that a junkyard? Out here?!”A sign poked out from behind a dune. Looks like her birthday’d come around early this year.

The smith laughed. “You sound like a kid going to the candy store.”

“Candy can’t take you a hundred kilometers away in an hour, though, and that’s much more exciting than some sugar!” Maria giggled. “Not that I’m against sugar.”

“I can take it or leave it. There was one place I visited that had these cinnamon-pepper candies; those were more my style. Speaking of style...” They pulled into the lot, broken-down vehicles already visible from the entrance, and the tour began.

Well, less of a tour and more of a scavenging run; this wasn’t a museum, after all, and Nian never left home without a few tools. The Kuranta popped the hood on the first ground-level car within eyesight, putting on a pair of goggles and pulling a tool roll seemingly out of thin air. “This one’s in great condition; how’d you end up, little guy? Don’t worry, we’ll be gentle. Hey, Nian, could you help me roll this one forward a bit?”

“I’ve gotcha.” She popped open the door on one side, Blemishine did the same on the other, and the two pushed the car to where there was plenty of room on all sides. “Looking for something specific?”

“Just want to double-check a few things. How’d one of RI’s shuttles end up out here, do you think? I mean, if we had the keys, I’m sure we could get this one to run again, no problem...Do you hear that?”

The Nian sighed. “The rustling from over there? I heard.”

“Hands up!” A gruff voice barked as a small gang of bandits mobilized from behind other junk piles, crossbows trained on the pair. “Thanks for the fresh wheels, ladies. Toss us the keys and leave, and we won’t have to get nasty.”

“What kind of gang sets up shop in a junkyard? You can’t possibly make enough stops to survive,” Maria observed, hands still below her head.

The presumed leader, a Sankta with a black halo, spat on the ground. “Don’t change the subject. Hands, up, or your pretty little friend gets it.”

“Which one of us is little?” The other Defender asked casually, a pool of silver forming around her feet. “We’re about the same height, after all.”

“...Well, boys, can’t say I tried.” The Sankta fired at the Kuranta-

-and missed, partially because his target rolled out of the way, and partially because there was now a lump of metal where his Adam’s apple had been. Nian’s malleable murder-metal formed a curtain around her as she started walking forward with a smile. “Well, boys, you picked the wrong couple to rob.”

“Couple?” Blemishine asked as she reemerged from cover, sword and shield at the ready. “A couple of what?”

“A couple of-” At that moment, a bolt detonated against her tectonic armor, blasting shrapnel through and into her shoulder, and the Beast awoke.

A few minutes later, after the junkyard had had a proper bloodbath, the Nian was sitting on the hood of the car they’d rolled out while Maria patched her up. “Exploding bolts? That’s higher grade gear than your average bandit, isn’t it?” The knight asked

“Probably. Not that we’ve got to worry about it now.” She felt the debris-free gashes knitting back together in the Kuranta’s light. “I need a snack after that. Mind if we head back to town?”

“Nah, I don’t mind; there’s an ice cream shop that Surtr recommended I’ve been meaning to try. We can get a milkshake with two straws, like in the movies.”

Nian would have rolled her eyes if that didn’t sound like something she wanted to try. “You’re the first person I’ve dragged out with me who wanted to make a date out of it.”

“You’re the one who called us a couple,” Maria replied with a momentary smirk. Momentary because she wanted her next words to have the proper gravitas. “But I meant what I said earlier. You really are an incredible person, Nian, and now that we’ve gotten a chance to talk, I know it’s not your weapon we should be trying to emulate at the shop, but your spirit.”

“...I haven’t heard praise like that in a long time.” The Nian slid off the car.

Blemishine stepped off to walk back to their shuttle as the other Defender took her hand. “I don’t know if I’d call it ‘praise-’”

“What else do you call complimenting a goddess?” That stopped the knight in her tracks as Nian walked around her. “And praise of that calibre deserves a blessing.”

“You’re seri-” Whatever thought Maria had loaded up crashed to desktop as the ‘blessing’ in question turned out to be a kiss.

It was a good thing the smith’s eyes had closed before their lips connected; she might’ve gone blind from the Kuranta’s flash of light otherwise.

[peachyteabuck]

devour her for me (natasha romanoff x peggy carter x reader)

↪ summary: natasha’s interested in pet play, and turns to peggy for some advice

↪ pairing: natasha romanoff x peggy carter x reader (established peggy carter x reader)

↪ words: 1269 (heh)

↪ trigger warnings: pet play (including use of cages, leashes/collars, pet names), oral (f receiving), praise, dehumanization 

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

Natasha hesitantly steps into the large bedroom, her heels clacking against the floor at a pace slightly slower than the woman she follows. Just like the woman in front of her, everything has a place, and everything looks perfect. Impeccable. It makes Natasha wrinkles her nose at her own messy apartment, which she always attempts to clean but can ever get to the level she sees on those “professional organizer” Instagram pages.

“I hope you know I greatly appreciate you coming to me,” Peggy says, reaching into the small table that lays to the right of the queen-sized bed. It’s the same matte white as the solid bedframe, the marble top a similar swirl to the churning in Natasha’s stomach. “Instead of some stupid blog, or whatever it is people are doing these days.”

Natasha gives a mm as she watches her friend grab a small plastic container with a twist-top labelled treats and a chain leash with a dusty pink pleather handle. It’s not that she doesn’t have a lot to say, or to ask, rather that she can’t seem to find the right string of words.

So she stays silent, her eyes flitting to the other side of the bed. There, in a cage a shade of pink so light it might as well be white, you wait patiently. Your legs are tucked under your bruise-covered ass with your back straight and palms resting on your thighs – an unnatural position that shows off your training. It’s…erotic, to say the least, watching each of your movements be ruled by this internal Foucauldian force.

Natasha presses her thighs together in a shy attempt at relief. It does not work.

Peggy maneuverers throughout the room with ease that only comes with confidence, arriving at your crate like an angle floating down from the Heavens to bless a village with a fruitful harvest. She stands in front of it – bending knees to lower herself to your eyeline, crooking the forefinger of her nondominant hand. In the other she holds the leash, one that Natasha now notices matches the collar around your throat.

You crawl forward at your master’s direction, pausing in front of her so Peggy can attach the end of the leash to the O-ring. In the same well-behaved manner, you follow Peggy at her heel as she walks to the other side of the room, gesturing for Natasha to join her as she sits on the plush velvet couch.

There, they sit, both of them watching you as Peggy speaks.

“She’s my prized pet,” she grins wider with each word, perfectly applied red lipstick making her white teeth shine even more as she does so. The woman turns towards where you are on the floor, the eye contact triggering something inside you that makes you perk up. “Who’s my perfect little pet?”

Your whole body nearly vibrates under the praise.

Peggy smiles even wider, her white teeth shining against her red-painted lips. “Yes, you’re my perfect little puppy.”

There’s another beat before Peggy’s tone shifts into one Natasha recognizes from work. It’s not fake, per say, but the tone is permanently up-beat and the pitch just a tad higher. It reminds Natasha of Starbucks baristas and waiters who are on the first ten minutes of their baby shift.

“It’s really about consistency,” she tells Natasha. “Of course, you two should consult on the schedule since it needs to work for the both of you. You shouldn’t force yourself into the lifestyle, you know? Rather, you should make the lifestyle work for you.”

Peggy continues speaking for a long while – at least Natasha assumes so. Her mind is focused on you, watching every one of your careful, calculating movements.

It takes a minute for Natasha to build up the courage, but eventually she reaches forward to ghost her fingers over your thick collar, tapping her long nails against the nameplate that reads “PROPERTY OF MS. CARTER” and hitting it against other charms so that they jingle.

Peggy gives a light smile, as if she’s reminiscing. “That circular pink one?” she says, gesturing to where Natasha’s thumb is rubbing against the smooth orb. “That one’s a tracker. That way she can’t get lost without me being able to find her again.”

She lowers her head to look at you, scrunching up her nose in the same manner one speaks to babies. “You aren’t going anywhere, are you puppy?”

You immediately shake your head back and forth, whines high in your ribcage sounding like disagreement.

“We had an incident at the beginning, but,” Peggy turns to Natasha, taking a sip before she speaks again. “For the initial training period I had her on a shock collar, so that behavior was able to be fixed rather quickly.”

Natasha “hmms,” having a hard time imagining you so much as having a hair out of place. “Were there any other, uh, incidents?”

Peggy shakes her head. “No, no. She was quite well behaved after that, so I didn’t think it was necessary.”

The silence that settles over them is thick, though not uncomfortable; instead of a humid summer day, Natasha feels like she’s under one of those weighted blankets. Even if she can’t move, it’s a comfortable pressure on each of her limbs that keeps her subdued.

Peggy, a woman who could identify the psychological issues of a man a thousand years away notices this immediately.

“Why don’t you show Mommy’s friend how good you can be?” she purrs, handing the leash to the woman in question. Natasha takes it, her mouth dry as sand dune as she realizes what’s about to happen.

It only seems to get drier, too, as you pull Natasha’s panties off and push her pencil skirt up, the leash lax down your back as the woman above you holds the handle tight in her hand. She’s white-knuckling it as you lay small kisses along each of her thighs, smiling at Natasha’s breathy moans.

“F-fuck,” she cries – the words forced out when your lips make contact with the most sensitive part of her. “Fuck she’s so good at this-“

Natasha cuts herself off with another moan, her vocal cords (and the rest of her) overwhelmed with pleasure.

Peggy just smiles, pride crackling on her skin as if a lightning storm was beginning to awaken in her blood. “I told she was a good little pet, didn’t I?”

Natasha gives the other woman a small nod, the only type of nod she can muster as all her muscles desperately contract. “Y-yes, shit!”

“Then why don’t you come for us, then, Nat?” she murmurs, eyes locked in on the other woman. “Why don’t you show my little pet what a reward from you will look like?

That’s when Natasha breaks.

She comes with a high-pitched moan that erupts from her chest like lava from a volcano that had been dormant for centuries – bursting to the surface and illuminating the faces of everyone watching.

You continue with your fingers and tongue until the woman above you begins to twitch violently from how sensitive she is.

When you pull away, your face shines with Natasha’s slick. It nearly makes the woman in front of you moan as she takes the sight of you in.

You gulp before speaking. “Did I do good, Mommy?”

Peggy nods, moving to pet your hair. “You did so well, puppy. So well for Mommy’s friend…”

She moves to curl her fingers under your chin, moving so that you face Natasha once more.

“Now,” Peggy coos, waiting until Natasha locks eyes with you before continuing. “Why don’t you do it again?”

[maddie-kungs-emporium]

My 10 Favorite TTRPGs (2021)

There’s plenty of amazing tabletop games out there, but I have a few favorites that I absolutely love. The most important are presented below, along with a paragraph of explanation of why I like them. If you have a bit of spare cash burning a hole in your pocket, then hit up Drivethrurpg and find yourself a copy! Before we get started though, here’s a few ground rules.  1. No two from the same system (e.g. I can’t put Mummy: the Curse and Mage: the Awakening on the list even though I dearly want to). This is mostly to prevent one system from being overrepresented (Looking at you, PbtA). By the same token I can’t put multiple editions of the same game or anything like that. 2. None of my own games. Obviously there would be bias there, wouldn’t there? 3. I have to have enough experience with the game to properly rate it. This means I have to have read the game and have a keen understanding of it. 

4. This is my personal opinion. No specific criteria are used beyond whether or not I enjoy them.  With that being said, let’s start from 10#. 

10#: Golden Sky Stories (Star Line Publishing)

This game is on the list because it is one of the most avant-garde games out there, which only makes sense from the philosophy it was created from. If you want a simple game about talking Japanese raccoons you can play with children, check this out. Furthermore, the game is possibly the most peaceful and relaxed from a writing standpoint you can get with any piece of media.

9#: Vampire: the Masquerade (White Wolf But It’s Complicated)

This game is the most personally significant to me on the list. It has serious flaws which prevent it from being any higher, but this game literally saved my life during the darkest periods of when I was young, and I mean that. I don’t actually recommend this to the majority of people, at least not unless you’re already interested, but I could not honestly make a list without it.

8#: Deadball (WM Akers)

This may strike some people as an odd choice, given it is barely a TTRPG and completely flies in the face of many basic game design principles. However, not only does Deadball stretch the limits of both TTRPGs and the game of baseball at the same time, but it does so in a way so simple that even a child can pick it up. If you want a little soothing game to play with your friends and family, it’s definitely one to consider.

7#: Qin: the Warring States (Cubicle 7)

This is one of the few games, which, in my opinion, portrays my Chinese culture in a way that is nuanced and respectful while also doing something different with it. Portraying a criminally underused historical period is one thing, but the accuracy with which they do it is another. Easily the best historical game I’ve ever come across, sorry Ars Magica, Würm and Pendragon!

6#: Flying Circus (Newsstand Press)

There is not a universe in existence where I don’t praise Erika Chappell on one of these. While Flying Circus isn’t as personally significant to me as a lot of the other games on here, it’s mechanics, lore and use of PbtA are some of the best I’ve ever read. Please check if out, you would make me very happy doing so.

5#: Adventures in Middle Earth (Cubicle 7)

From the 5E engine specifically, this game is easily the most mechanically solid I’ve ever seen. While there were other competitors, the reason Adventures in Middle Earth is so high up is because of all the things you could do with Middle Earth, with Tolkien’s incredible imagination, this is one of the far superior uses. I cannot recommend this game enough. Sadly, this is out of print, but it is still occasionally available via humble bundles. If you can find a copy and want to see what 5E’s mechanics can do at their creative peak, get it.

4#: Star Trek Adventures (Modiphius)

Not gonna lie, my enjoyment of 2d20 is hit and miss. I thought it was okay for most things, I didn’t like the Dishonored hack very much, and the Dune hack had good ideas but top-heavy execution, but Star Trek Adventures is easily the best use of this system. Doing the world of Star Trek complete justice, this game combines masterful synergy with the 2d20 engine at its best with an understanding of Star Trek that has yet to be beat.

3#: Tales From the Loop/Things From the Flood (Free League)

If I’m being perfectly honest, I like this better than Kids on Bikes. This game captures the feeling of youth as well as the ideas of teen movies incredibly well, and the Year Zero Engine is one of my favorite systems. Without a doubt, Free League is one the best TTRPG publishers in the business.

2#: Shadow of the Demon Lord (Schwalb Entertainment)

Not only is the closest thing to a perfect 5.5E we’ll ever get, but this game is easily the most mechanically solid on this list. It’s difficult to argue that of all the interpretation of the D20 systems you could come up with that Schwalb’s isn’t one of if not the most captivating. The world of Rûl is excellently done as well, especially considering it wasn’t even intended to be more than a default setting, so go check it out.

1#: Promethean: the Created (Onyx Path)

This is easily the best TTRPG in the history of the industry. Not only does it function as an exploration of the human condition worthy of preservation in the MoMA, but it is mechanically solid with amazing lore and an incredibly meaningful message. This game is one of, if not the, most amazing creative endeavors in any media. Honorable mentions go to Hoodoo Blues (Vajra), Ashen Stars (Pelgrane Press), Legend of the Five Rings (FFG), and Dark Heresy 2E (FFG). Thanks for reading.

[ruffsficstuffplace]

The Keeper of the Grove (Part 60)

Walking in the Weaver’s Terrace felt very different with Weiss’ robes and her gauntlet on, and her mask and Myrtenaster hanging on her belt alongside her mediums.

She could feel the magic radiating all around, like being submerged under a cool, calm river, feeling the water and an incredible calm wash over her, her body begin to hum and radiate with incredible power. Even the Fae there started to treat her differently, Weavers greeting her amiably, the other folks bowing respectfully and minding how they spoke to her.

About the only thing that hadn’t changed were that the monkeys were still assholes.

Weiss felt a disturbance, like rocks falling into a pond and sending ripples all over its surface. Faster than she thought she could ever move, she spun around and held up her bare hand, blasting cold mist into the air.

She smiled as the flying blueberries froze in mid-air, before they dropped to the ground and shattered. She looked up at the disappointed and surprised monkeys up in their branches, and stuck her tongue out at them.

The creatures hung their heads and looked apologetic.

Then she felt a second barrage of blueberries assault her from her behind.

The first troop of monkeys howled with laughter as Weiss spun around to glare at the second troop, who were instead congratulating each other and pointing at the foolish weaver they had caught by surprise.

Weiss gritted her teeth, freezing mist pouring from her nostrils and the sides of her mouth, before Penny grabbed her wrist and pulled her off to their destination—higher up the side of the mountain than inside it this time.

She walked up a series of staircases and gardens thriving with plants and wild animals, before she stepped into the eponymous Weaver’s Terrace. She had to stop and stare in wonder, taking it all in, feeling the intense magic pour into her body, making her feel more alive than she ever had in her entire life.

The Terrace was divided into four quadrants, one for each element, with an elaborate raised altar in the center.

For Air: a lush forest, filled with tall trees, vines hanging from their branches, and small islands floating up in the air by tornadoes at their bases.

Weavers swung, climbed, and even flew all around them, propelled by bursts of electricity or flying devices of various designs, if they didn’t already have wings of their own. Those that weren’t nested in the branches and hollows, making music or experimenting with various magitech made of wood and plants.

For Earth: an arid desert, ancient mountains and tall spires of stone rising up from the ground, sand swirling and blowing over dunes, and caves, their insides glimmering with gems and precious metals.

Weavers there sat and meditated in almost perfect stillness, if they weren’t stomping their feet and thrusting their hands through the air, the land shifting and changing as they willed it. Those that weren’t carefully molded and sculpted clay and refined metals and stone, working on similar projects as their air counterparts.

For Fire: an island paradise, tropical plants, exotic flowers, and miniature volcano rising up in the center of it all, rivers of magma pouring down from its constantly bubbling and smoking mouth.

Weavers danced with and fought each other—sometimes both at the same time—going through a series of complex, energetic movements accompanied by jets of flame, balls of fire, and even pillars of hot lava. Those that weren’t participated in the loudest, most energetic, and entertaining cooking competitions Weiss had ever seen, the chefs often literally on fire as they tossed, chopped, and roasted their creations.

And for Water: a thriving swamp like Keeper’s Hollow, filled with giant mangroves with roots rising over the water, streams and rivers gently burbling and trickling, with a few docks, boats, and buildings-on-stilts spread around.

Weavers there were almost constantly in the water, waist-deep as they harnessed it and turned it into playful bubbles, blasts of water, and miniaturized storms, or completely submerged, effortlessly moving through it like sharks in for the kill. Those that weren’t were carefully monitoring bubbling cauldrons or slaving over much more complex alchemy sets than the ones Weiss had at home.

As she and Penny headed there, Weiss noticed and watched a mixed team of weavers move as one in front of a long series of alchemy equipment, straining their necks and dipping low to the ground as they followed a solution’s trip through so many containers and tubes, before ending at a pitcher.

The others stepped well back as the alchemist leading them pulled out a dropper from inside her coat, and carefully added two drops.

The purple-blue liquid inside started to bubble and fizz violently. The other members of the team readied their hands and foci as their leader held the pitcher steady, keeping it from rocking itself right off the table.

Finally, it stopped. The alchemist called her fellows over, some of them fetching glasses and a ladle. A small sample was poured out, then handed over to their earth weaver who carefully swirled it around in its glass, before knocking it back.

Everyone waited in tense silence.

The earth weaver smacked their lips, and gave the thumbs up.

The group cheered, high fives going all around as they began to pour glasses of juice for the rest of them.

Weiss laughed.

“The Fae like to mix training with play, as a means to entice young children to attempt them in the first place, to help mitigate the effects of stress, and of course, just to have fun,” Penny explained, smiling.

“Please do note that this doesn’t mean you can take you can your training lightly,” Glynda said as she came up behind them, watchers on either side of her. “We Fae can also get extremely competitive and serious about our games.”

Both Penny and Weiss spun around, eyes and optics widening in surprise. “Elder Goodwitch!” Weiss cried as they bowed. “What are you doing here, ma’am?”

“It’s my day-off, and I’ve decided to use it to train you,” she replied coolly.

“You’re using your day-off to take on more work?” Weiss asked.

“Yes. Do you have an issue with how I choose to spend my free time...?” Glynda asked, a barely perceptible edge to her voice.

Weiss shook her head. “Not at all, Elder Goodwitch! I'm just… surprised, is all.”

Glynda nodded. “Do know that I will only be able to attend to you once a week; the rest of your visits here will likely have you training under a different senior weaver, or even one of the Primals.”

“They're the four of the most powerful weavers in the entire Valley, second only to Elder Goodwitch,” Penny explained.

Weiss nodded. “Who are they, anyway?”

“Most of them are incredibly busy with preparations for the Eve of the Ether tomorrow, but one is currently around,” Glynda replied. “A word of warning: Primal Salamanca has quite the--”

“YYYEEEEAAAHHHHHHH!”

Weiss flinched and turned to the Fire quadrant of the Terrace, staring as a weaver shot out from inside the volcano, rocketing up into the air before he began to arc downwards towards where she was.

A Chinchilla Fae with his hair done up in a giant, fluffy afro landed just before Weiss, blasting jets of fire from his palms to slow his descent. He crouched low on the floor with his head down, and said, “Ladies, gentlemen, and non-binary genders…

“RORY SALAMANCA, PRIMAL OF FIRE IN THE HOUSE, YO!”

Fwoosh!

Giant pillars of flame erupted behind Rory as he sprang up into the air, landing with his arms and legs in the shape of an X and his hands in the Horns.

Weiss staggered back, her arm in front of her face.

Glynda sighed. “… Personality...” she finished.

“Haah-haah…!” Rory laughed as he walked up to them. “What is up, my homies?!” he said, his arms spread wide.

“What the hell was that all about?!” Weiss cried as she put her arm down.

Rory grinned. “What, this?”

Fwoosh!

Weiss yelped and threw up an ice shield in front of her. “Yes, that!” she yelled.

“Relax, homie: it’s just some fire!” Rory said as the flames disappeared once again. “I got this—wouldn’t have become the Primal of Fire if I didn’t! Besides, what’s so wrong with fire? You know how much better life would be, if we had a lot more pillars of motherfucking fire shooting out behind people?

“Imagine: one of those service at the Holy Shepherd’s place, right? Custodian’s gets to the end of the sermon and they go, ‘Praise be to Piper!’ then--”

Fwoosh!

“Trust me: people are gonna be lining out the door, standing outside and looking in through the windows, watching those sermons on HV just for fun!”

Glynda sighed as she stepped up. “Please excuse us, Salamanca, Weiss and I have a lot of training planned for today.”

“Sure I can’t take over for you, Goodwitch?” Rory asked. “It's your day-off and all! Besides, the things she's capable of, and a little one-on-one time with me, and we can do some beautiful things, man, beau-ti-ful things!”

“Sorry, but I’d rather train with Elder Goodwitch thanks,” Weiss said as she stepped up beside her.

Rory shrugged, still smiling. “Eh, suit yourself! But if you ever want to learn how to do tricks like this--”

Fwoosh!

“Just give ole Rory a call, yo!” He said before he crouched low, and pointed his palms down to the ground. “Salamanca out!”

Weiss raised another ice shield as Rory went rocketing through the air once more, and back inside the volcano. “Are all the other Primals like that?” she asked Glynda.

“Primal Aeilana is also of a similar disposition, but Primals Logan and Wenua are much calmer, if with their own quirks.”

“Weavers of exceptionally high power and skill tend to exhibit highly visible forms of neurodivergence, though the exact causes are still heavily debated,” Penny added.

“However, that's a conversation for another day, when the clock isn't counting down,” Glynda said. “Weiss, I'm assuming Maker Abner warned you of the Eve's unique effects on weavers like ourselves?”

Weiss nodded. “He did. Let's get these powers of mine under control.

Glynda smiled for a moment. “That's what I like to hear.”

Weiss’ training area turned out to literally be the shallow end of the water.

Weavers much younger than her were learning how to swim, or harness their powers in the first place, oftentimes in the form of shooting galleries like at arcades, but with magic than toy guns and holo projectors.

Because her biggest issue was control, Weiss was doing what they called the “Blast Back.”

The mechanics were as follows: Glynda would man five magical rings floating in the air, all the same size. She would throw a certain amount of water at Weiss, her job was to harness it and redirect it into a specific ring with the right amount of power, as denoted by whichever ring was lit up and in what colour.

If she got it right, the ring would retain the magic until it was full, and taken out of the game. Too weak or too much, and it would come right back in her face, giving the game its name.

“This is going to be easy!” Weiss said as she prepared to wade into the water, only up to her shins.

Glynda stopped her. “I was about to mention: this is going to be without your gauntlet, Myrtenaster, or your mask,” she said.

Weiss eyes widened, before she nodded sheepishly. “Oh… right...”

Penny came up, and took her equipment and mediums away from her, leaving Weiss with just her clothes.

Glynda sent the rings floating up in the air at different heights. “Ready?” she asked as she drew a stream of water up into her hands, lazily curling and winding it around her body.

Weiss held out her hands. “Ready!”

Swoosh!

Glynda sent a blast of water like garden hose.

Weiss caught it, bit her lip as it began to surge and spiral around her arms, more powerful than it was before.

“Don’t think too hard!” Glynda cried. “Relax, feel the flow!”

Ding!

One of the rings lit up.

Green. Lightest you could make it, like spitting out a mouthful of water.

Swoosh!

Weiss ended up sending a fire hose blast into it. The ring made an awful noise, before sending it right back to her.

“Agh!” she cried as she staggered back, eyes squeezed shut.

“Are you alright?” Glynda asked.

Weiss wiped the water from her eyes, blinked until her vision was clear again. She stepped back into position, and nodded. “I’m fine!”

“Good!” Glynda said, waiting a few moments before she tossed a tiny orb at Weiss.

She caught it, sliding it back and forth between the palms of her hands, keeping it moving before her magic could begin to gather in it.

Ding!

Orange. High-pressure, like a pipe that just burst.

Weiss bit her lip as she suspended the ball between her palms, magic swirling into it and growing it larger and larger, until she let it go.

Whoosh!

Off it went! … Several inches to the side of the ring, exploding into the protective barrier around them before returning to the water below.

Weiss cried out in frustration.

“We’re not stopping now!” Glynda said as she wound up like a baseball pitcher.

“I don’t intend to!” Weiss said as she readied herself once more.

Glynda threw her fastball at Weiss.

She held her hands out to catch it just a moment too late, the ball exploding right in her face.

Splash!

Weiss fell back into the water, knocked down from the surprise and the momentum, looking up at world from under the surface.

Ding!

Blue, middle of the road, like a garden sprinkler.

Bubbles escaped her nose, as the rings turned off and floated down to the shore.

Glynda waded over and pulled her out. “Are you alright?”

Weiss gently spat at some water. “I’m fine...”

“Then, I hope you’re ready for more, because we’re doing this again.”

“Great, because that's exactly what I was about to say,” Weiss said.

Glynda smiled. Weiss felt some of her magic surge through her hand and into her body, energizing her, washing away the sting of the fastball-to-the-face.

The rings started to float up in the air once more as Weiss and Glynda got into position.

[drink-n-watch]

Zwischenzug

: An “in between move”, where a player, instead of playing the expected move, first inserts a move which the opponent must answer, before making the expected move..

I finished episode 11 of The Promised Neverland about 12 minutes ago It’s taken me this long to start writing the post because I had to sort through the unreasonable amount of screencaps I took. It’s like I wanted to hold onto the moment. I was anxious, scared, angry and then… But I guess I’m getting ahead of myself.

First once again, all my thanks to Crow for agreeing to take this strange and powerful trip with me. This is a series I’m sure glad I had a friend to watch with! A BOLD friend at that! I always have a mix of dread and excitement when Thursday comes around as you never quite know what The Promised Neverland will put you through next, but I always love talking it over with Crow.

The feeling’s mutual! Even more than usual, I was dying to read what you’d come up with for this episode! It’s no exaggeration to say that I spent half the episode with my jaw hanging open. I’m pretty sure my cat’s questioning my sanity!

I’ll be bold… but you already told everyone that! So let’s see where this leads!

this episode was entirely dark blue or blazing orange yellow. The rare full colour scenes really stood out

It’s been a tough couple of months for Emma and Ray but this week was a non nonsense, take no prisoners, leap forward in the narrative.

First we got the confirmation that neither Ray nor Emma had given up or changed their plans in any way after Norman’s…*departure*. Did you have any doubts Crow?

After the end of the the last episode? No. I trusted completely in Emma and Ray’s resolve. Looking back, though, I realize that I gave them too little credit. And I’d given them a lot!

yeah!

I liked how they used Ray’s tactical recap and explanation to Emma as a nice little cover to bring the audience all back on the same page before the final sequence begins. Once again we are truly reminded who Ray is and why he is such a great character. Ray has been planning this escape for years. And it was always meant for someone other than him. Once again, he calmly tries to talk some reason into Emma, but he gives up quickly. He does love her and his siblings, he just wants what’s truly best in a difficult situation.

We also get a glimpse of the petty childish Ray. Of the kid who’s been living in fear and oppression his entire life. Who’s buried countless brothers and sisters in his heart and carried it all by himself. The child who had to grow up way too fast so he held onto his resentment until the bitter end. Even his paltry lashing out is tactical and carefully planned!

we wouldn’t dare!

  Ray who is lazy and uninterested in studies. Worked, studied and exercised all his life just so he could get this moment of tiny vengeance. Just so he could buy himself more time to plan out his siblings’ escape. It was simultaneously naive, silly and grand!

Seeing Ray’s will crushed by hopelessness put me in mind of Denethor, Steward of Gondor, broken by despair yet still powerful among mortals, as he stood in Rath Dínen, Faramir dying of fever behind him, and said, “‘Better to burn sooner than late, for burn we must. … And I? I will go now to my pyre. To my pyre! No tomb for Denethor and Faramir. No tomb! No long slow sleep of death embalmed. We will burn like heathen kings before ever a ship sailed hither from the West. The West has failed. Go back and burn!’

Yeah, last week I compared The Promised Neverland to Dune. This week, I’m comparing it to Tolkien’s The Return of the King. I really don’t have any higher praise to offer! Don’t forget Buffy! We did Buffy as well!!! Excellent point! Buffy for Emma, Lord of the Rings for Ray, and Dune for Norman. Solid combination!

wait…no…

I was devastated for Emma here. Watchin Ray stoically readying to sacrifice himself for the greater good, after giving her a picture of herself and Norman. How many friends does she have to lose?  What was your read on it, Crow?

It was only in retrospect that I was able to think enough to realize what I was feeling. I realized I was saying “No no no no no” on Emma’s behalf, for exactly the reason you just said. She’s suffered enough; she can’t witness one of her best friends burn right in front of her!

And she acted just as Emma would act. But we didn’t know until later. This show…

Emma, I…I don’t know what to say…

It’s night time at the farm, we see Mother watching over the little ones before going to bed herself. We once again see the smallest child and I’m reminded how much she looks like Emma. I figure there aren’t that many breeders out there, maybe this kid is genetically related to Emma. The children all look rather different but a few could be blood siblings. Not that it changes anything but it still makes me wonder.

And she was so gentle to the kids! Just as a mother should be! Talk about feeling conflicted! Me, that is. She seemed completely at peace!

So the clock chimes in midnight and Ray bids his final goodbye as the orphanage is set ablaze. A devastated Emma is screaming her guts out for Mom who comes rushing in. Just as Ray had planned, she sends the children out while she tries to figure out a way to salvage Ray’s brain. Se yells for Emma to get out as well but Emma i already gone. What did you think of this scene Crow?

This is another scene that I can talk about only in retrospect. In that moment, all I could hear was Emma’s agonized scream. All I could see were the flames. Yet when Isabella turned to tell Emma to evacuate as well and Emma wasn’t there — that’s when I started to become aware of myself again. There was hope! There was yet some plan that I didn’t know. I hoped something would be all right, because right then, things looked really dark.

RRAAAYYYYY!!!!

Like you my brain was too engrossed in the moment to properly think. I sort of thought something was odd. It’s unlike Emma maybe or…something was off. I was morbidly staring at the screen fascinated and disgusted. But something felt uncanny. Obviously there’s more to the story. They can’t just kill all the kids here (although, respect if they have the guts for that downer!).

Respect, yes! But everlasting fury…

Well, maybe not everlasting, but I’d be quite cross for days.

I couldn’t put my finger on it right away. Mom’s tracking device showed Ray in the fire and Emma just around the corner but no one was there. Of course Mom soon found Emma’s ear in a bucket. But why do that, they have the device to disable the emitters. Why bother???

Talk about guts! Emma’s a kid! And yet driven by need, following a plan we only dimly perceived at the time, she freaking sliced off her own ear!

who cares about one ear – you have two!

When a smiling Emma reached the kids, short one ear, I felt the edges of my mouth strain a little from smiling. Of course, and then I saw Ray flabbergasted. For his plan to work, Mom had to believe he was in that fire, his emitter had to keep sending a signal from right there. Emma could probably have disabled hers but we are also reminded that who Emma is. She wouldn’t let a friend suffer alone and she would not hesitate to lose an ear to buy them a few extra seconds. And then the clock chimed midnight. I loved that audio cue for the flashback transition!

Even more, if Isabella saw a tracker disabled, she’d know instantly that they were escaping. Now, she had to spend the time to find the ear — minutes only, but precious minutes!

we didn’t see you much but good job Gilda!

Emma was at her most Emmaest this week. Catching the match mid flight with a quippy line at that. Calmly explaining to Ray that neither he, nor anyone else was getting left behind. Emma was a paragon of joyful strength and indomable hope. Even cynics like Ray and me couldn’t help but believe! I like this Emma!

“Emmaest?” I love that! She was definitely in Momma Bear mode.

Of course Ray was shaken, but a nice sharp slap brought him to his senses and then we got one of the best lines I’ve ever heard in response to a death seeker: Norman’s final message for Ray: – “You can die anywhere, it doesn’t have to be here. I’ll show you something cool so shut up and come with me!”

Remember in our last review when you said “Why do I ever doubt this kid?” No lie — that’s the first thing I thought of.

look how focused they are!

This is when The Promised Neverland played a particularly dirty trick by reminding us how awesome Norman is. Ray is strategic and determined. He learned and probably knows more than any of them. Emma is quick witted and flexible, she can adjust to any situation and seize it up in an instant. But the smartest had to be Norman. He had seen right through Ray months ago and just like I thought, he left something: Answers to most of my questions!!! I miss you Norman!!!

Norman is a genius, even compared to Ray. Not only that, he didn’t despair. Even after learning of the cliffs, even after foreseeing that he had to go to the gate to buy them time, he stayed in the game, thinking of their next moves, staying ahead of all of them. That’s what heroes do!

So we learn that not only had Norman figured out pretty much exactly what Ray was planning, but also how to play off that to make their escape plan work. We found out the kids DID KNOW the secret of the house and that’s why they were so incredibly sad to see Norman go. And he knew that they knew so… way to play it cool!

Remember back in episode 6 when you pointed out Emma, Norman, and Ray’s hubris for keeping the secret from Don and Gilda? Looks like the writers agreed with you! Finding out the other kids were in on the secret was an amazing moment!

and then?

Yay me! Norman left Emma some pretty detailed instructions, including faking her depression and staying away from Ray which allowed her to get everything ready completely under the radar. He even showed us what was in Krone’s box. A key (it looked exactly like Isabella’s, but I wonder whether it might unlock the side room Norman was led into) and a scalpel pen. She did find it in the hospital after all.

I have to say, Norman’s god-like intellect is straining credulity here. I was left as slacked jawed as Ray but I also didn’t care. I was happy to see him again, even if it was just a memory.

In the words of the immortal Miles Lane, “I’ll allow it!”

So the kids make i to the wall. We get a nice scene of Emma feeling Norman’s presence at her side and then I was sobbing a bit too much so I went to get some water which somehow ended up being wine…

Samuel Adams for me. Purely medicinal.

how?

All along, Ray is still in shock. And in this shock he suddenly notices that someone is missing.

PHIL!!!!! Was I right, wrong? Did he stay with Mom out of loyalty? Did Emma not notice him missing, cause you know she wouldn’t have left him behind no matter what…. What is going on here Crow? I miss Norman and I want Ray to be o.k. and I’m so proud of Emma!

Emma ruled this episode.

Of all of the astonishing moments in this episode, the instant that Ray realized someone was missing was probably the most impactful. My guard went up instantly when Ray asked who wasn’t there. Then we see Isabella maniacally deciding she would save her children, and just as she’s about to dash off, there’s little Phil. Grabbing her skirt. Effectively pinning her in place.

And my mind immediately went back to The Lord of the Rings, when Sam faced Shelob in Cirith Ungol, alone except for the still figure of Frodo. Armed only with a tiny sword, Elvish thought it may have been, against an ancient and dreadful power.

How much time can Phil buy for them? And at what cost?

I don’t know!?!

And how can there only be one episode left??? We just barely got out of the orphanage!

I’m half afraid to look forward to next week! Okay, more like 3/4s afraid…

For all the anxiety and grief his show has put me through, this episode left me with cold, raw and sharp hope. I’ve rarely felt this aggressively optimistic! And yeah, I’m scared too!

The Promised Neverland Episode 1

The Promised Neverland Episode 2

The Promised Neverland Episode 3

The Promised Neverland Episode 4

The Promised Neverland Episode 5

The Promised Neverland Episode 6

The Promised Neverland Episode 7

The Promised Neverland Episode 8

The Promised Neverland Episode 9

The Promised Neverland Episode 10

You know how I start taking unreasonable amounts of screenshots when I get really wrapped into a story?

The Promised Neverland Episode 11 – Zwischenzug Zwischenzug : An "in between move", where a player, instead of playing the expected move, first inserts a move which the opponent must answer, before making the expected move..

[spynotebook]

The first season of Twin Peaks is almost perfect.

The gist of the core plot is not unique to David Lynch’s soon-to-be revived brainchild, but he pulled it off better than anyone else. A local teenage’s grisly murder and the subsequent investigation take center stage, and the unraveling of that central mystery soon sweeps up the whole town. The seemingly idyllic town that gives the show its name is, surprise!, not the sleepy hamlet it may seem. Unnervingly dapper FBI agent Dale Cooper sifts through the fresh horrors stirred up by Laura Palmer’s death while a rich cast of supporting characters help him out, get in his way, or navigate their spooky town outside of Cooper’s orbit.

Twin Peaks’ first season works so well because the show goes to such extremes when it both portrays the town’s endemic evil and paints saccharine portraits of small-town life in 1990s America. Lynch’s show is a loving paean to small towns and TV sitcoms, which makes his subversion of all their seemingly placid elements that much more disturbing. The line separating the two is paper-thin and liable to blur at any time. A tryst between high school lovers might get interrupted by a murderous psychopath. A character’s independent investigation might lead to her almost being fed to her father, who runs a secret brothel over the Canadian border. The evil shown in the first season oscillates between a sketchily-defined cosmic rupture and a tightly plotted story of a police investigation, and Lynch never shows all his cards. It covers a lot of ground but does not meander.

Lynch preceded Twin Peaks with 1986's Blue Velvet, which is perhaps the best film of the 1980's and resembles Twin Peaks on several fronts. A puppy dog-perfect Kyle MacLachlan stars as a college student who returns home to his idyllic small-town home and falls for a mysterious woman being lorded over by a maniacal creep (played by Dennis Hopper, who puts forth one of the scariest performances I have ever seen). Laura Dern plays interlocutor and audience surrogate, as Lynch plumbs the same thematic depths that he returns to with Twin Peaks: the hidden savagery at the heart of supposedly placid American life. No mater how calm things seem, no matter how cleanly the lawns are mowed, violence and perversion are woven into the fabric.

MacLachlan’s all-American steadiness drives both projects. Blue Velvet works in part because the boyish, innocent-looking MacLachlan (who had just starred in Lynch’s Dune, a legendary flop, as a 25-year-old unknown) is a peerless representative of the sort of Americana that Lynch seeks to simultaneously skewer and praise. His character in Blue Velvet is an innocent college kid who is nonetheless curious about the kinkier, darker side of town. Dale Cooper is almost a progression of that character. He has seen the lurking menace at the heart of the American experience, and he’s on a crusade to eradicate it wherever it pops up.

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Given the thematic heft of the show, it could easily lurch into soap opera nonsense, but Cooper is utterly unflappable and the town’s inhabitants are not written as clueless rubes, even if they are acutely dramatic people. Twin Peaks plays it all straight, which makes it all the more unsettling. As someone who wasn’t born when the series ended and only came across it after the whole thing had been turned into one big meme, I was struck more than anything by the uneasiness of the world. The coffee habit that launched a thousand tote bags is there, and, yeah, the red room scene is deservedly iconic, but the show isn’t a campy send-up of the American television show. Its subversion comes from its unrelenting weirdness and obtuse horror. Lynch’s camera fixates on screaming mouths and spinning sawblades, picking away at the fabric of the town as it shows it to you.

Then it turns into a big mess.

The tightly-knotted yarn of Season 1 unravels the moment Season 2 starts. Instead of a resolution to the season-ending cliffhanger where Cooper gets shot in his room, viewers get their heads dunked into a big bucket of cold water and are forced to watch Cooper lie on the floor bleeding and rambling. A geriatric waiter enters the room and instead of helping, he just sort of bleats at the camera. It’s a grating and abrupt capsule of the entire season in miniature: a once mysterious and claustrophobic show has bloated out and glazed over.

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Yet it still works. The consensus is correct; Season 2 is the inferior season. The majority of its episodes are worth a damn, though, and things don’t truly go off the rails until the home stretch. The show’s second batch of episodes reach higher highs than those in the first season, and ambition and restlessness serves the show well. The episode where the audience discovers who Laura’s true killer is features perhaps the most chilling single scene in the entire series. I am amazed that so many moments made their way onto television screens unedited, and nothing short of the finale is as chilling as watching the killer take his second victim while he garbles desperately at the camera.

The schlock also gets dialed up to 11 in Season 2. The first season balanced its horrifying impulses and tendency towards grandiose sweetness well by playing them off each other and never going too far in either direction. By the time Episode 9 rolls around, the show has abandoned any restraint. Season 2 isn’t anything like the evenly-tempered pilot episode (for my money, the best pilot ever put to wax) and it goes way too far in every direction as David Lynch and co-creator Mark Frost became less involved with writing and directing as they pursued other projects. One of the James-centric subplots is pure soap opera trash; a core character has a breakdown and lives out an extended fantasy that he’s a general in an alternate universe Civil War where the South won; there is perhaps the schlockiest scene in TV history.

If you dig the atmospherics of Season 1 and enjoy the moments where the shows fully indulges in its own whimsy, you’ll like the bulk of Season 2. It’s the apotheosis of everything that made Twin Peaks unique, for better and for worse. I can’t defend the back third of the season, where a ratings nosedive caused producers to flail at all manner of rotten and nonsensical plotlines. There’s nothing good about Audrey’s sudden fling-ette with a dapper cowboy guy from out of town or the ham-handed way the entire Windom Earle plot is carried out. It’s a big dumb mess and there’s little to enjoy.

However, the show did not end with a whimper. The hallucinogenic finale, where Cooper enters the Black Lodge and seeks to confront BOB and Earle in an interdimensional M.C. Escher nightmare world, does not hold back. Cooper plunges deeper into new layers of a funhouse-mirror infested chamber, unsheathing new horrors at every turn. A malevolent spirit devours his rival as doppelgängers wail and shriek. The grotesquerie of the Black Lodge is relentless and nigh-inscrutable, as if Lynch (who took charge of much of the episode personally) wanted to pull back the curtain once and for all, exposing the supernatural rot and savagery at the heart of Twin Peaks.

Lynch briefly returned to the town of Twin Peaks for the 1992 prequel Fire Walk With Me. At this point, the humor and spirit that animated the show was gone and all that was left was the repulsive side of things. The movie tells the story of Laura Palmer’s last days on Earth. MacLachlan is briefly present, but the film spends most of its time digging into the grittier stones that Twin Peaks turned over. One could make the case for Fire Walk With Me as a fittingly unflinching meditation on abuse, but as for the town of Twin Peaks, the mask had come all the way off and the product Lynch put forth was gross and listless.

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Twin Peaks makes its prophesied return this Sunday after 26 years off the air. Lynch is directing all 18 episodes and not even the unbelievably deep roster of actors who comprise the new cast really know what to expect. Uneven as it was, Twin Peaks crafted a cohesive world that warrants revisiting. Even though the show lost its way for a bit there at the end, you can trust that David Lynch’s new vision for this story will be just as unsettling and sublime. It never made sense, and it never needed to. That won’t change now.

Laura Palmer promised Cooper in a dream that she’d see him in 25 years, and if you count Fire Walk With Me (count Fire Walk With Me), that’s just as long as it’s been since Lynch showed us Twin Peaks. Kyle MacLachlan is no longer a pretty boy on the cusp of superstardom; he’s a successful veteran with a winery and 86 episodes of work on Desperate Housewives. This Dale Cooper will be far different than the dapper mannequin who chomped chocolate bunnies outside the Roadhouse. He’s changed. Lynch has changed. Twin Peaks hasn’t.