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lunahearts · 10 months ago

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Soooo I read all of Dungeon Meshi in this past week and I have many thoughts bouncing around in my brain and I think the only thing to do with them is some AGGRESSIVELY CLOSE READING of a scene I wanted to come back to and try to understand better.

So: I want to talk about chapter 28

This entire section of the story is something I feel like I am going to want to come back to a lot, because its such a transitional time and I feel like there are a lot of themes/ideas that I wasn't fully aware of during my first reading, and stuff I missed because of that.

One of the biggest things I have been turning over in my head is... hey, what was UP with the Marcille/Falin bath scene? Maybe it was because I was already primed to pay attention to stuff with them going into the story, or because I had already seen a couple of panels out of context. In any case, it really kind of stuck out to me as being very short but also VERY intense, while also being... hard for me to define? Some part of the nature of the intensity felt like it was going over my head.

I wasn't sure that revisiting it would help with this right away, but to my surprise, it actually WAS a lot easier for me to follow and understand when I went back to it. So I want to just do a close reading of That Scene and some other parts of the chapter & context around it all, because I think it offers insight into Falin & her relationships, and what purpose this chapter serves within the story as a whole.

So first of all, I think it's interesting that the scene starts with Marcille bathing Falin.

It feels very caring in a more platonic, less charged way then what will follow.

Marcille goes from this caretaker mode to joining Falin in the bath, and then of course we get the first of The Panels

(as a small note, I only noticed when revisiting that Marcille is using the rest of her Kelpie soap in the bath. Isn't that just the most heartwrenching little detail. Augh)

Anyway, one of the first things I thought was interesting going back to this is how much it reminded me of the very different sort of intimacy that came just before it - when Laios and Marcille assembled Falin's bones.

This is such a beautiful and intimate sequence, and something about Marcille examining Falin, whole, after the fact... I can't imagine there are not some echoes of those bones in Marcille's mind. The action seems more startling/intense for Falin at first, and maybe part of that is because Marcille has already experienced this level of intimacy with Falin's body in a way Falin herself wasn't a part of.

This panel in particular I think is a summation of the difference in the experience for them. This looks like... near orgasmic for Falin tbh, and Marcille is very focused on the actual like practical part of what she's doing, seemingly completely unaware of the Effect she is having on Falin.

The whole short sequence is focused on this intimacy that Marcille initiated seemingly without fully being aware of what she was actually doing. And once Marcille is satisfied, she is also the one that ends it, sitting back in the bath and moving out of Falin's proximity. All on her own terms, and for her own ends.

HOWEVER... Falin doesn't just let things go.

Instead, she returns Marcille's attention. First, by asking after her wellbeing:

Marcille, of course, deflects (there will be a lot of that in this scene).

But Falin doesn't let it go.

Falin is not a confrontational person. She likes to keep the peace. In this context, and in context of the way that Marcille was the one to come into Falin's space initially, the way that Marcille controlled the initial intimacy... this is striking. I genuinely think that these three panels might convey one of the most assertive actions Falin (as herself) takes in the entire story. One of the only things that outdoes it is the fucking INCITING INCIDENT OF THE WHOLE STORY.

I'd also like to point out here that this action of Falin's also parallels her resurrection by Marcille & Laios. It's is also a forbidden magical action done to save someone(s) she loves, and its something she does TO them, that they are not fully aware/able to react to until its done.

Anyway, back to the bath scene. Falin is taking action here and asserting herself. And how does Marcille react?

She flips out!! She rejects it! She tells Falin that she isn't supposed to be acting like that.

It's a very distancing response from Marcille, and also one that puts her back in that caretaker mode from the start of the scene. She also puts even more distance between herself and Falin by sinking into the water.

Falin doesn't give up though! She continues to assert herself. She's okay, she is allowed to chose to do this.

And Marcille continues to push her away. It looks to me like she only starts to relax a little once she fits Falin into a role she can better define and control. You're a patient, you're recovering, I understand this fact and you don't. Let me take care of you.

But, for a third time, Falin pushes back.

I don't think it’s coincidence that this is where she opens her eyes. She asks directly about the thing that they have both been dancing around:

The resurrection spell. The fact that Falin KNOWS about this, at least in part, recontextualizes the quiet battle for control between the two them. They both know at least some part of the truth. Marcille wants nothing else then to ignore it. Falin wants to be able to talk about it. Marcille's blatant refusal to give her those answers, I think, is what keeps them out of sync - intimate only ever in one direction at a time, never fully together.

And of course, even when directly confronted, Marcille refuses to engage with the truth.

This moment being on the bottom of the page is notable too. There's a beat here. The last panel holds on Falin's face. The reader reaches the bottom of the page, and they are held here for a beat as well, with Falin. It's not quite a rejection yet. What Marcille says isn't directly an answer to Falin's question, but it is a response. A valid one, even! Falin wasn't just asking the question after all, but struggling with guilt that Marcille has every reason to want to reject.

But then you move on the next page, and...

Marcille isn't actually addressing the question at all, not directly. She's deflecting, again. Oh we had a ~difficult time~, there were a lot of "tough situations." Even though she and Falin both know about the resurrection, and Falin has made it clear that she wants to talk about it, Marcille pushes away from the actual topic. She keeps things broad and indirect.

She offers the smallest gesture to Falin - nothing more than a whisper of 'don't worry about it I won't get in trouble' (even though Falin's concern was never just about Marcille getting in trouble).

Marcille then continues to deflect even further, completely changing the subject onto clothes and frog adventures, which seems to distract Falin as well, as she finally gives up on pushing.

And that's where the scene ends! Marcille pushes into Falin's space (without fully realizing), and Falin pushes back. She tries three times to get Marcille to acknowledge her wants, and three times Marcille rejects her, though she does eventually convey some truth. She is honest in her belief that Falin doesn't need to feel guilty, and that things will all work out, even as she continues to deflect the rest of the question. Falin finally accepts that, the topic of conversation changes, and we move on.

But there is a little bit more that happens between them. Towards the end of the chapter, they have this little 'oh no we have to share a bed' situation. Classic stuff.

And Falin seems to realize that the context of this is kinda different now then it was when they were in the magic academy. She's not a kid any more, and they just had those intimate moments in the bath. There's a new tension between them, or one that new at least to the bed sharing of it all.

And in this respect, too Marcille pulls away from what Falin is trying to say. She tries to frame Falin as a kid, tries to insist that nothing is different.

When I first got to this part, it honestly felt... a little uncomfortable? After the bath scene, it is really weird to move into a new intimate situation with Marcille explicitly treating Falin as a kid.

What I have realized in coming back to this scene, though, is how much I think its meant to feel uncomfortable. Throughout the chapter, Marcille's responses to Falin become increasingly patronizing. By letting some of that conflict between them resolve at the end of the first scene, the chapter seems to let things rest, and lets you set it out of your mind.

Then, when the same type of conflict comes back at the end of the chapter, Marcille is even more blatantly treating Falin like a kid, and the unfairness of it hits even stronger. They are both adults, and Falin deserves the truth. After 27 chapters from the perspective of Laios, Marcille, and the others in the group, this progression lets you feel things from Falin's perspective. It's supposed to feel uncomfortable because it IS uncomfortable for Falin, the way no one will quite tell her the truth.

After all, Marcille isn't the only one to do this kind of deflecting when Falin tries to ask about what happened. Laios has a similar response, right down to the 'treating her a bit like a kid' part.

Even more importantly, this final conversation of the chapter reveals one last layer in the knowledge/power imbalance between Falin and the rest of the party: she doesn't actually remember sacrificing herself and teleporting them out.

As I mentioned before, that action was one of the most assertive things we see Falin do in the story, and she doesn't even get to keep that for herself. Instead of being her action, her choice, it becomes yet another thing that the others know more about than her.

I think that's part of why there is such an air of melancholy to this hug they share on the next page

Obviously, obviously, there are so many emotions here for Laios and I don't think its all meant to be viewed as a negative thing, or that he or Marcille are being completely unreasonable. They've been through a lot, and what's more, they think they have time now. So much more time then they actually will have. Time to explain, to open up, to let Falin return to the group in full - as a teammate and not just as someone to be cared for and protected.

But they don't get time. And this relenting by Falin, this "I won't do it again," it's not something that feels triumphant. It's an attempt to comfort them, more a prayer than a promise. As if she is trying to exorcise a spirit. As if she is capable of promising that death won't come, eventually. It's what Laios needs, not what she wants.

That's the real tragedy of the chapter, I think. It's the one time, in the midst of everything, that they have the chance to give Falin what she wants - and they don't do it.

But I do think they realize that, and I think that this failure is a core part of their journey. It's another bittersweet taste to add to the mix - all the missed chances in this chapter to connect, amidst the moments of genuine peace they do get throughout it.

As Laios puts it later...

If Falin hadn't been eaten by the dragon, and perhaps if they hadn't failed her here, they never would have had the adventure that they got to share.

(or, perhaps more tactfully: in life & chapter 28, there are both good times and bad. Thanks, Chilchuk)

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #falin touden #marcille donato #laios touden #dunmeshi analysis #dungeon meshi spoilers

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letorip · 2 months ago

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kiss with a fist [iii]

"your slaps don't stick, your kicks don't hit, so we remain the same"

===+++===

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: you can't help but feel like maybe you and tara are more than frenemies, and it culminates in a night where you finally share some truths with each other.

warnings: a somewhat traumatic dream sequence lmao, mentions of sex, kissing (almost), curse words, blood

word count: 5.8k

A/N: hope y'all like this one because i definitely liked writing it. definitely a whole lot more kissing than fisting.... wait a minute....

it's 5 am, my ass is grass. anyways, part 4 relatively soon because woo wee theres still so much to explore in this story i legitimately cant believe my idiot self said it'd be done in 2 parts originally

===+++===

"(Y/n)," a voice calls to you, sing-song and sweet as your eyes fade to darkness. It's a gentle woman's whisper, but it manages to hit you like a truck, pulling you down from wherever you came from, and plopping you wherever you've arrived. Or, rather, wherever you've always been. "(Y/n), look, darlin'."

A gust of wind gently strokes over the plane of your cheek, and when you open your eyes, all you can see is rye. On one end, it reaches out towards a sharp cliff, overlooking a lake, with nothing but rocks and the water below. On the other, it runs far up the plains of land in front of you, stopping in front of the white house you know all too well, with its rickety porch and broken tire swing.

You take a few steps forward, as if ready to run right inside, and then before you know it, you're running. Like the world is about to end, like the house is burning down, like you'll never see the place ever again. Foot after foot, you dash towards it, hearing Alisha's piano flit through the front window for the first time in years, and the smell of a pie right along with it. "(Y/n)!" the voice calls again. "Dinner time, kid!"—

But your foot catches on a root, just like it did in your memory, and in an instant, you've fallen down into the rye, with a painful thud, right on your face. You let out a grunt, feeling the dirt on your new, white shirt. The one your mother never let you wear when you were playing outside.

And when you right yourself again, sitting up out of the field, the house isn't any closer than it was before. It sits, perfectly far away, only all that stuff is gone now, and the house looks about as dark as it did the day of Mitchie's funeral.

"(Y/n)!" an excited voice calls from behind you. "Wanna play tag?"

"(Y/n)'s too old for that, Mitchie," another voice chides, and you whip around like Calvin would actually be there to chide him like that. Like he used to. But he isn't. All you can see is the rye. It stands in thick stalks, reaching up to your knees in lush groupings, tall and abundant, strong and growing.

Another voice. "Read me a story?" It's soft and it's a little girl's and it's far away, and you get to your feet and spin in a circle, waiting for her to appear. It seemed to reverberate through your ears, washing through the pathways of your brain before seeping into your heart. It fills it up, and before you know it, you can feel yourself hastily searching for her.

"'Randa?" you called into the open field. "Miranda? You there?" but she continues on like she didn't hear you.

"Would you read me a story? Please?"

"I will Miranda, but where are you?" you called back, raising a hand to shield your eyes from the barrel of the hot sun.

"I'm gone, (Y/n). You're supposed to be gone too," she says back, with a sweet giggle. "Why aren't you gone with us?"

"I—" you stammer, whipping your head around the field in search of your siblings. "I don't—"

"Do you really think that's fair, (Y/n)?" Calvin asks.

"Why aren't you here, (Y/n)?" Miranda asks again, this time her voice wavering like she was about to cry. "Why aren't you in the rye with us?" Your hands came up to your head, trying to squeeze your eyes shut and block out the noises, but they seemed to reverberate into your skull.

"Mitchie was your fault, you know," Peter chides. "We would've never let that—"

"—Why did you get to stay, (Y/n)?" Came Tomas' voice. "We're supposed to be cursed, and you're supposed to be cursed too." He was always the quiet one, but now his voice had a sharp edge to it. One of jealousy. One of anger.

"Why didn't you catch me?" Mitchie asked. "If you just would've caught me..."

"Come play piano with me, I'll teach you," said Alisha, in her light, airy laugh.

"Why did it get to be you?" snarled Calvin. "And why are you getting closer to Tara? You want to curse her, too?"

"Stop—" you stammered, squeezing your eyes shut tighter.

"Wanna play hopscotch?" said Mitchie.

"Do you miss us, (Y/n)?" Alisha said, in between tears.

"Yes, of course— I—" you tried, but now the voices were filling up your head, threatening to spill over and knocking you to the ground. You curled up into a ball as your brain filled up. Words piling up on top of words, piling up on top of words, about to split you open. "STOP!" you yelled.

And everything went silent. When you opened your eyes, you found yourself still in the field, but your siblings' voices had gone entirely. Now it was just you, in the field, alone with the rustling of the wind and the rye, as it grazed gently against your legs. You hadn't remembered standing up, but you were now.

In a flash, you could see a shape, running through the rye in a line that was very visible from where you were. You recognised the dark hair, and the yellow jacket he always wore. With the realisation came the looming dread, and you realised with very little time left what this exactly was a memory of.

You took off running, faster than you had to the house, faster than you had ever run, and faster than you had run then, chasing after him as he took off towards the cliff-end of your rye field. "Mitchie!" you yelled, trying to be louder than the buzzing cicadas, but it seemed the moment you yelled, the cicadas got even louder. He was too short to see over the stalks, but you could see him go, running in odd shapes as he got nearer and nearer to the cliffs edge.

"Catch me if you can, (Y/n)!" he called back with a gleeful laugh.

"(Y/n), grab your brother," called your mother. She didn't seem too worried, and she hadn't been, then. No one had been, until it was too late.

"Mitchie! Stop!" you cried out, feeling tears already beginning to fall down your cheeks. "Mitchie!" you tried again.

"Come on, you've gotta be faster than that if you're gonna be it!” Mitchie called back. "Catch me! Get me! C'mon! I'm gonna make it hard for you to win, Duck."

"MITCHIE! PLEASE!" you screamed, but all he did was giggle. “STOP! DON’T GO!” But the moment you reached the end of the rye, he was gone over the edge, just he had been when you were 13, and there was an arm shaking you awake.

===+++===

"Oh my god, you're about the least peaceful sleeper I've literally ever seen," Tara laughed, grinning at you from over her textbook. She had it pulled into her lap from her side of the table and titled against the table edge, and spread out in front of you were her papers galore, with notes scribbled all over them in preparation for her upcoming exam.

Mindy sat next to her, playing a stupid game on her phone, while Ethan was also studying in his own textbook. He had stopped trying to avoid you as much, as had Chad. You and Tara "dating" seemed to offend them less and less the longer it went on.

"Uh," you mumbled, still feeling a little bit disoriented from the dream. It was like a dose of adrenaline had been shot directly into your heart, and you struggled to adjust to the calm, peaceful library that actually was around you. "Shut up," you grumbled, but not like you were actually upset by her teasing.

Tara watched you with her eyebrows raised. "You look tired."

You sat up in your chair, running a hand through your hair. There was a small layer of sweat on your forehead. "Aren't you never supposed to say that to someone? Pretty sure that's how you get someone at the bar to throw their drink in your face."

"It is," Ethan nodded. "I made that mistake once. I was trying to be sweet."

"Good thing I'm not seducing you, then," Tara shrugged. "You've seen me puke everywhere. Pretty sure that ruined my chances right-out, and yet you love me anyways."

You grinned, leaning back to stretch out your arms. It was meant to be a gentle teasing from Tara, but you had only gotten better and better at deflecting the longer you were around her. "You'd be surprised, actually. That was super pretty. That was the prettiest you've ever been." Mindy snorted next to Tara.

Tara glared at you, unappreciatively. "And you're pretty when you do not speak."

"I'm pretty all the time, Tara," you mockingly shook your head. "And you think I'm joking. Find yourself a girl who looks nice covered in sweat, with her hair going everywhere, and puking in the toilet. That's my girlfriend."

"You're such a dick," Tara scoffed, but you could tell part of her was stifling a laugh. It was funny to her too, and you both had laughed at it together for days, afterwards.

If anything, it had gotten easier and easier, to act like the both of you were actually dating. You weren't too sure why, maybe Tara had become less annoying, or you had become less annoyed by her, but you had definitely at least become a better actor. That's what it was, after all. "Oh, also," she continued.

"Yeah?"

"Someone tried to call your phone, while you were sleeping. I think it was your dad."

You frowned. "You didn't pick up, right?"

"No," Tara said, shaking her head. Then she paused. She dropped her voice to speak just to you, guarding the conversation from Mindy and Ethan. "Do you and him not get along?"

You shrugged. "Eh. He was probably just checking in. We have a fine relationship." It wasn't true but it was an easy lie, that rolled off the tongue like nothing. He had already called twice, that day, and you knew why.

"Seriously, though," she said with a frown, looking up from her book. "You look fucking horrifying—"

"—Thanks," you said, flatly.

"—I mean, even more than normal, it's crazy—"

"—Thanks," you repeated.

"—Have you not been sleeping, or something?"

You shrugged. "I mean, I'm an architecture major, and it's midterms... so not really."

"Hm."

"What?" you asked, propping your head up on your arm. "What's the 'hm' for?"

She shrugged, trying to turn back to her textbook. "Hm, nothing."

You furrowed your eyebrows down at her. "Well, obviously the 'hm' was something, Tara." Mindy shot you a look again.

"Or it was just a hm."

“Would you two shush,” she said to you, rolling her eyes. “You bicker like an old married couple.” But you both ignored her.

"It's never just a 'hm.'"

"I say hm all the time. It's literally just a hm."

"No, it means you've got something to say but don't want to say it."

She frowned at the accusation but was obviously even more displeased that you were correct. "I was gonna suggest we go to the OBK party tonight, but maybe you should just go home and sleep. I was trying to be nice.”

You shrugged. "I won't be doing either, actually." Tonight was not the night for parties. You were somewhat grateful, that you had a legitimate excuse to busy your time, or else you would've spent even longer thinking about the dream. "I have to do homework. My final is due tomorrow."

Tara furrowed her eyebrows at you. "Wait, but I thought classes ended today."

You shook your head. "Nope. I've still got some stuff do."

"Oh," Tara frowned.

"Not all of us can have easy majors," you teased, trying to lighten the mood away from what was clearly concern.

"Hey! You chose the stupid thing," Tara shot back. "Not my fault I chose something fun." She stood up, gathering her things into a neat stack. The time was nearing for her midterm exam, and you stood up with her, grabbing her textbook to be helpful.

"Thanks," she said, then she wandered over and held out her hand. You grabbed it in yours, lacing your fingers together, just like you had practiced together.

The library was a tall building on the far side of campus from where you lived. It was a trek and a half to get there, which is partially why you had been a little annoyed, when Tara said she needed to go there. It ended up being the perfect place to fall asleep in, with the quiet signs and only a few murmurs now and again, and though it had been a less than peaceful dream, it was more than you had been getting for the past few days.

"I don't see why you can't just go without me," you shrugged, adjusting her book in your hands. "Just tell Sam I'll meet you there. Besides, Chad and Mindy are going to the same party, right?"

"Yeah, but I what if they realise you're not actually there and mention it to Sam, or something? And, I'd have to go there alone, since Chad and Mindy are going early."

"They are?"

"Yeah. Helping with set up. Mindy literally just mentioned that. Shows how much you listen to her.” She shook her head in a mocking disappointment in you.

“I was asleep, jerk.”

“I know,” she said, grinning.

You looked down to her, where she walked next to you, gently swinging your joint hands back and forth. "It's not a far walk to OBK. You could probably make it there in five minutes. It's well-lit, and—"

Tara frowned, shaking her head adamantly. "Not alone. Not without you, no way. Sam would want to see you at the door to pick me up. She'd probably hate the idea of it."

"Fair enough," you shrugged. "Find a movie at home tonight, then. Relax, or something. I'd kill to be done with this stupid project."

"What are you even making?" Tara groaned, breaking your hands to shove hers into her pockets. Actually, it was your jacket, and therefore technically your pockets too, but she had taken a liking to it, after your date. You had been less than pleased, when she asked to borrow it, considering how much the jacket meant to you, but she insisted it was assisting her to keep up the act. You figured you could part with it, at least for a little while.

"Architecture," you said with a thick layer of sarcasm. Tara rolled her eyes at you. She nudged you, and you couldn't help but laugh as her elbow pointed into your side.

"Oh, you think you're funny, huh?"

"I'm hilarious."

"You wish..." she scoffed, shaking her head.

It was a beautiful day in autumn, and the weather was soon to leave the sigh of brown leaves and rainy days and move into whispery winds and icy pavement. You didn't mind winter, but you didn't like the chills, even though it was undoubtedly what gave summer's warmth a certain sweetness. Still, nothing burned like the cold.

You walked her all the way to the door of the exam hall, stopping out front to hand her the textbook you had been carrying. You went to speak, but the moment you tried to open your mouth, your phone started ringing. You grabbed it from your pocket, sighing and declining the call, while Tara stared at you.

"Is that your dad, again?"

"No," you said. "Telemarketer."

"Right..." she said, frowning. "You're a terrible liar."

"Am I?" you challenged. You were, it was true.

"Why don't you want to talk to him?"

“I just don’t.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m asking why, (Y/n).”

"Why don't you leave it alone?" you shot, in frustration. You could see Tara's eyes narrow at your tone, and you felt a bit bad. There was the occasional reflex still, to bite each other's heads off. You weren't sure what it was about her, but something about Tara Carpenter always seemed to rile you up inside, and do the same for her with you.

"Sorry," you said, looking down at your shoes. "I just don't want to talk about it."

"That doesn't mean you have to be an asshole," Tara glared.

"Right... I'm... sorry."

Tara sighed. "I guess I'll see you next week?" She asked.

You nodded. "There'll be plenty of time after this, I just need to get this thing done."

"Okay," she nodded, failing to hide her excitement. Tara seemed to really love parties, the more and more she went to, and you were somewhat glad you could help her find something she enjoyed. It was nice to see, not that you'd ever say that to her. Doing that would absolutely result in her teasing you again, or something even more annoying.

"Good luck on your test," you said.

"Good luck on your project, babe," she said, drawing the name out.

“Now who’s hilarious,” you said with an eye roll. Tara winked at you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Me.”

===+++===

It seemed you were having no good luck on it whatsoever, actually. Laid out in front of you was all of your materials, in a messy pile of cut-out pieces and foam boards that were there, sure, but not likely to just jump together and put itself together on its own.

The clock had already ticked away to 12:33 in the morning, and your design was barely finalised to where you could get to work and finish quickly. All of the other students had left at a much more reasonable hour, and it left you standing at your table alone, quietly working to classical music in the empty modelling lab.

At this rate, you could be here for another two or three hours, and the project was due at eight. You were sluggish, slowly working through the plans you had set out days ago and working through the kinks.

Every few minutes, when you stopped for even a second, the dream seemed to rush back to the forefront of your brain. Your mother had been the one to call, that evening while you were eating a poor excuse of a dinner, and you had declined that call just like you had declined all the rest.

You were hunched over your work, probably unhealthily so, with your face buried in your iPad, hastily throwing out sketches of the various shapes. You were settling on a design that would have to do, heading for the woodcutter, when you heard a noise.

It resembled a door shutting, and you froze right where you were. "Greg?" you called out. There was no one else in the building except for you and Greg, at his usual security post, and you waited with bated breath for him to return your call.

But there was no response, and all you could hear was the sounds of classical music gently floating in the background. Usually, it set you at ease while you worked through whatever you were doing in the lab, but now all it did was raise your heart rate to match the increasing tempo. It was completely dark, except for the overhead light above you, which illuminated the table you were working at and a few of the stainless steel cabinets that held tools and supplies.

Then, off to the side, you heard a rolling. An odd, wooden rolling, slowly drifting towards you. On the ground was a pencil, gently pushed towards you, playfully rolling as if perfectly in front of your toes. You hopped to your feet. "Hello?" you called, squinting in the dim light, in case anyone else was there. "Is anyone there?" you called out again. "Greg?"

Now you could really feel the thumping of your heart. The modelling lab had always been creepy late at night, but this was a new level of unease. It was as if someone was watching you, playing with their food, and you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "Is someone there?" you said to the rest of the room.

"Hey!" said a voice, and you jumped what felt like five feet into the air.

"Fuck!" you shouted, spinning around and seeing Tara behind you. She jumped at your reaction, raising her hands up. In one of them was a tray with two coffees on it. “You scared me!”

"Woah, woah, are you okay?" she asked, face etched with concern. She walked towards you slowly, and you put your hands on the edge of the table, trying to calm yourself.

"Don't just sneak up on me like that, dude," you glared at her.

"I literally didn't, I fucking announced myself, loud as can be," Tara said, rolling her eyes at you. Then, it melded into concern. "How long have you been here?" she asked, looking around the place and its emptiness.

"Since I left you at your test," you shrugged. "How'd it go by the way?" Tara's eyebrows furrowed, ignoring your question instead for one of her own.

"Did you at least eat dinner, or something?"

"Yeah," you nodded.

"Good."

“Yeah…,” you trailed off, turning back to your work. “How did you know where I was?"

“I asked Chad. He’s still a little snippy with me about, well, thinking we're together. Tried to tell me that if anyone would know, it would be me, and I said, yeah, that’s true, but it’s only been three months, now.”

“Well,” you said, gesturing around to the lab. “This is the modelling lab.” You were a bit of a nerd about the whole place, showing it off like it was your cool superhero lair.

“I know,” Tara mocked. “I saw it on the giant sign above the front door.”

“Ha ha. Does Sam know that you’re here?” You asked, grabbing your pen and resuming your work while you continued to talk to Tara. She plopped herself down on the edge of the table, letting her feet swing.

She looked a bit sheepish at the question. “Uh… no.”

“You know she’ll kill me like she did that one time, if you’re not home when she wakes up,” you frowned, wandering over to the supplies and grabbing out a box cutter to help trim the pieces you needed.

Tara nodded. “I know. But I snuck out, so I’ll sneak back in.”

You turned back around to reply, maybe say something stupid, but you had to stop yourself from laughing, when you saw her legs hanging off the counter and not reaching the ground.

“What?” Tara asked, furrowing her eyebrows. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you said, shaking your head and returning to the table. “…Dwarf.”

“Hey!” she said, smacking you on the arm. “I brought you coffee, don’t make me take it back.”

“That’s true,” you frowned, weighing your options. “Guess I can’t make fun of you; you brought me caffeine.”

“That’s more like it."

You worked in silence for a few minutes, feeling Tara watch your every movement. It was harder to work, under her scrutiny, but you were grateful that she was there. It wasn’t lonely in there, any more. A few months ago, you would’ve hated her guts for sitting around while you attempted to work. But not with Tara anymore. Not on that day.

“This might be an all-nighter,” you warned, sending her a small smile as you sliced a piece of foam in half and went to work to attach it to your board.

“Fine with me,” Tara shrugged. She just continued to watch you, in a calm silence. “Actually, I have beef with you,” she hummed.

You laughed, looking up while you secured the base with glue. “Why’s that, Tara?”

“You got that song, stuck in my head.”

“Which one?” You asked.

“The one you sang for me. I found it online.”

“Which one?” you teased, smiling again. Your face was tired and the smile certainly didn’t help, but you couldn’t help the newfound peace washing over you again. You had completely forgotten the weird happening from earlier.

“You know, don’t play dumb.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I really don’t know.”

“You literally do,” Tara scoffed.

“Sing a little bit. Refresh my memory.”

“Nuh uh,” she said, crossing her arms. “This is a trap.”

“It isn’t,” you insisted, sticking your pinky out to her. “Swear.”

She wrapped it in her own, rolling her eyes. She definitely knew it was, but she obliged anyway. “If you need a friend, don’t look to a strangerrr. You know in the end,” her voice broke on the low note like yours did, and you laughed while heat rose to her cheeks. “I’ll always be thereeee.”

“And when you’re in doubt,” you sang back to her, in between laughs. “And when you’re in dangerrr.” You both were tone deaf and the rendition was awful, but the mood in the lab was getting lighter and lighter the longer you were together.

“Take a look all around,” Tara sang, coming back in. “And I’ll be there.”

It was impossible not to laugh at how bad it was on both sides, and you grinned at her toothily, before turning back to your work. “Thank you for reminding me.”

“You’re welcome, idiot,” she teased, nudging you in the side again.

===+++===

You went back to working on your model, finishing the first floor in about an hour. You and Tara occasionally talked now and again, but mostly she just watched you while you worked. “Why are you doing this all tonight?” she asked.

“Uh…” you stuttered. “I didn’t have time the past couple weeks…cause of… well, you.”

She shot up to her feet, mouth dropping open. “Why the hell didn’t you say no to me?! I didn’t know you had all this to do.”

You shrugged. “I never mentioned it. Plus, you were having fun. I’m glad someone was enjoying themselves.”

“Oh…” she said, and it sounded small.

“What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“…Nothing."

“It’s fine, Tar. Seriously.” She blinked at you.

“Tar?” she asked, looking amused.

You looked up from your work, feeling the change in the atmosphere. “What?”

“I don’t know, you’ve just never used the nickname for me, before.”

“Yeah, I guess not. Is it weird?”

“Well… no. I kind of like it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” she agreed, nodding a little. “My mom was the one who gave me the nickname Tar. Haven’t spoken to her in a little while, though.”

“Do you still miss her?” you asked, glueing your second story onto the base successfully.

“Sometimes…” she trailed off, staring out at the pitch black night through the window that hung over your workspace. "She calls me once in a while."

"Do you answer?" you asked.

"No," she admitted. "It's usually about Woodsboro. I gave up on her a few months ago, but she still calls sometimes about the town."

"You never talk about it..." you comment, trailing off with a hand on the back of your neck. "You don't have to, if you don't want to." You leaned back against the table with a curiosity, watching her face move as she struggled to answer.

"Well... it's cause I don't want to that I don't talk about it. You know how people say that shit about manifesting happiness?" you nodded, knowing what she was talking about. "Well, I keep saying I'm fine, and I'm moving on, but it just keeps following me everywhere. It's like this chronic cough I can't shake. This constant thing. No matter how much I run, it's always there. People don't see me as anything but one of the survivors."

You swallowed, feeling her words hit you. "I know what you mean." Tara's eyes snapped down to yours, but when you didn't volunteer more information, she sighed.

You frowned, turning yourself back to your work and hunching over, so she wouldn’t see the heat rising to your cheeks. “I, uh… I listened to that song you said you liked, too.”

“You did?” she asked, lighting up at the mention of it.

“Yeah… added it to my playlist… so…”

“So…” Tara laughed, amused by your awkwardness. It was somehow less awkward when you hated each other. The fact you could tolerate each other now was unusual but not unpleasant, and you still found yourself grappling with how pretty Tara’s eyes looked in lamplight. "If I get a nickname, you absolutely have to have one too."

You scoffed. "That's not at all what that means."

"You had to have had one at some point."

"No, I haven't had one," you said.

"Liar!" Tara said with a giggle, pointing at you with her finger. "You're so bad at lying it's remarkable. Now spill. What is it?"

"I'm not lying!" you insisted, but now you were laughing and it was even less convincing.

"C'mon, promise I won't say it in public— unless it's really bad."

You stared at her for a moment, when she clasped her hands together in a begging plea.

"Please?"

"No," you shook your head.

"Please?"

"Nope."

"Pleaseeee?"

"Fine," you sighed. "My family, they used to call me Duck."

"Duck?" She asked, leaning back to look at you as if the nickname would re-contextualise your entire appearance. "Where'd that come from?"

"It's dumb. I used to wear this yellow raincoat when it was storming outside and these orange booties, so my little brother Mitchie saw me, when he was like five or six, and said I was a Duck. And so I was Duck."

She smiled at you, genuinely pleased with the explanation. "That's adorable. Where is Mitchie, tonight?"

You opened your mouth but shut it. Then, you opened it again. "Probably watching cartoons, or something. Back in Nebraska." (A/N: my ass genuinely did not know that was a U.S. state until right now)

You couldn't tell her that today was the day he had died, several years ago. That a year or two before that had happened, Calvin had gone, and a few months before that, Tomas and Alisha had passed too. That Peter had gotten sick, or that Miranda had gone missing before any of that mess had happened. That you were the only one left.

It was a bad lie, and probably one you would regret later, but it was one you ushered past, and Tara didn't seem to pick up on. From one cursed person to another, you figured it was probably best that you keep your own curse to yourself. It's part of what had made you hate Tara so much at first. She walked around knowing her days were likely numbered, so carefree and careless. And then there was you, you who was so careful in order to keep living.

But you couldn't resent her for that. It had melted away with seeing the Tara underneath. The real, beautiful Tara underneath.

"Duck is good, though. I'll bring it out when I want to embarrass you," Tara smiled, inching closer on the table.

"Yeah?" you grinned back at her, standing up to gently tap against the glue. It was set, and your model was finally finished at 4:42 in the morning. Tara leaned close, watching the glue with her own eyes, cheek almost up against yours in curiosity.

You finished the thing, looking over at her and her large, warm brown eyes, staring at the model you had made with so much curiosity and genuine interest. Tara hadn't lifted a finger to help, but you couldn't help but feel like it was partially hers.

You went to pull back but found your face turning towards hers, looking at each other for a long moment. Your eyes lingered on the slope of her nose, down to the curvature of her soft lips, turned up in the corners like Tara always did when she smiled. They looked so soft, and before you knew what was happening, you could feel Tara's hands coming up to the sides of your face, thumbs gently stroking against the skin there.

You couldn't breathe, feeling the warmth of the pads of her fingers on your face and the faint brush of her breath upon your nose. "Tara," you whispered. The pull was magnetic, and just as you were about to say to hell with it all, her phone began to vibrate in her pocket, and you both leapt apart from each other.

You wandered a few feet away, trying to seem busy while she answered it. You could feel Tara watching you while she spoke on the phone, so you did your best to hide the blush that was certainly spread wide across your cheeks.

This was the very girl you had spent the past several months hating. You suddenly felt dizzy, like the world would slip out from under your feet. Tara, the very same annoying girl who had pestered with you and bickered with you. The one who had so much more to her that what you had ever thought possible. The one who drew you in. The one in search of a hook up, for which you were only the decoy. You cleared your throat, whipping around when you heard Tara say "What?!"

"What's wrong?" you asked. "What's going on?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, looking up at you like she was about to cry. "They're questioning Sam again. They think Ghostface is back."

===+++===

DUN DUN DUNNNNNN anyways my ass is going to bed now. also i do not recommend anyone lie to someone they're interested in about who they are, ESPECIALLY an attempted murder victim

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n

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damienkarras73 · 5 months ago

Text

An essay on Furiosa, the politics of the Wasteland, Arthurian literature and realistic vs. formalistic CGI

Mad Max: Fury Road absolutely enraptured me when it came out nearly a decade ago, and I will cop to seeing it four times at the theatre. For me (and many others who saw the light of George Miller) it set new standards for action filmmaking, storytelling and worldbuilding, and I could pop in its Blu Ray at any time and never get tired of it. Perhaps not surprisingly, I was deeply apprehensive about the announced prequel for Fury Road's actual main character, Furiosa, even if Miller was still writing and directing. We didn't need backstory for Furiosa—hell, Fury Road is told in such a way that NOTHING in it requires explicit backstory. And since it focuses on the Yung Furiosa, it meant Charlize Theron couldn't return with another career-defining performance. Plus, look at all that CGI in the trailer, it can't be as good as Fury Road.

Turns out I was silly to doubt George Miller, M.D., A.O., writer and director of Babe: Pig in the City and Happy Feet One & Two.

Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga is excellent, and I needn't have worried about it not being as good as Fury Road because it is not remotely trying to be Fury Road. Fury Road is a lean, mean machine with no fat on it, nothing extraneous, operating with constant forward momentum and only occasionally letting up to let you breathe a little; Furiosa is a classical epic, sprawling in scope, scale and structure, and more than happy to let the audience simmer in a quiet, almost painfully still moment. If its opening spoken word sequence by that Gandalf of the Wastes himself, the First History Man, didn't already clue you in, it unfolds like something out of myth, a tale told over and over again and whose possible embellishments are called attention to in the dialogue itself. Where Fury Road scratched the action nerd itch in my head like you wouldn't believe, Furiosa was the equivalent of Miller giving the undulating folds of my English major brain a deep tissue massage. That's great! I, for one, love when sequels/prequels endeavour to be fundamentally different movies from what they're succeeding/preceding, operating in different modes, formats and even genres, and more filmmakers should aim for it when building on an existing series.

This movie has been on my mind so much in the past week that I've ended up dedicating several cognitive processes to keeping track of all of the different ponderings it's spawned. Thankfully, Furiosa is divided into chapters (fun fact: putting chapter cards in your movie is a quick way to my heart), so it only seems fitting that I break up all of these cascading thoughts accordingly.

1. The Pole of Inaccessibility

Furiosa herself actually isn't the protagonist for the first chapter of her own movie, instead occupying the role of a (very crafty and resourceful) damsel in distress for those initial 30-40 minutes. The real hero of the opening act, which plays out like a game of cat and mouse, is Furiosa's mother Mary Jabassa, who rides out into the wasteland first on horseback and then astride a motorcycle to track down the band of raiders that has stolen away her daughter. Mary's brought to life by Miller and Nico Lathouris' economical writing and a magnetic performance by newcomer Charlee Fraser, who radiates so much screen presence in such relatively little time and with one of those instant "who is SHE??" faces. She doesn't have many lines, but who needs them when Fraser can convey volumes about Mary with just a flash of her eyes or the effortless way she swaps out one of her motorcycle's wheels for another. To be quite candid, I'm not sure of the last time I fell in love with a character so quickly.

You notice a neat aesthetic contrast between mother and daughter in retrospect: Mary Jabassa darts into the desert barefoot, clad in a simple yet elegant dress, her wolf cut immaculate, only briefly disguising herself with the ugly armour of a raider she just sniped, and when she attacks it's almost with grace, like some Greek goddess set loose in the post-apocalyptic Aussie outback with just her wits and a bolt-action rifle; we track Furiosa's growth over the years by how much of her initially conventional beauty she has shed, quite literally in one case (hair buzzed, severed arm augmented with a chunky mechanical prosthesis, smeared in grease and dirt from head to toe, growling her lines at a lower octave), and by how she loses her mother's graceful approach to movement and violence, eventually carrying herself like a blunt instrument. Yet I have zero doubt the former raised the latter, both angels of different feathers but with the same steel and resolve. Of fucking course this woman is Furiosa's mother, and in the short time we know her we quickly understand exactly why Furiosa has the drive and morals she does without needing to resort to didactic exposition.

Anyway, I was tearing up by the end of the first chapter. Great start!

2. Lessons from the Wasteland

Most movies—most stories, really—don't actually tell the entire narrative from A to Z. Perhaps the real meat of the thing is found from H to T, and A-G or U-Z are unnecessary for conveying the key narrative and themes. So many prequels fail by insisting on telling the A-G part of the story, explaining how the hero earned a certain nickname or met their memorable sidekick—but if that stuff was actually interesting, they likely would have included it in the original work. The greatest thing a prequel can actually do is recontextualize, putting iconic characters or moments in a new light, allowing you to appreciate them from a different angle. All of season 2 of Fargo serves to explain why Molly Solverson's dad is appropriately wary when Lorne Malvo enters his diner for a SINGLE SCENE in the show's first season. David's arc from the Alien prequels Prometheus and Covenant—polarizing as those entries are—adds another layer to why Ash is so protective of the creature in the first movie. Andor gives you a sense of what it's like for a normal, non-Jedi person to live under the boot of the Empire and why so many of them would join up with the Rebel Alliance—or why they would desire to wear that boot, or even just crave the chance to lick it.

Furiosa is one of those rare great prequels because it makes us take a step back and consider the established world with a little more nuance, even if it's still all so absurd. In Fury Road, Immortan Joe is an awesome, endlessly quotable villain, completely irredeemable, and basically a cartoon. He works perfectly as the antagonist of that breakneck, Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote-ass movie, but if you step outside of its adrenaline-pumping narrative for even a moment you risk questioning why nobody in the Citadel or its surrounding settlements has risen up against him before. Hell, why would Furiosa even work for him to begin with? But then you see Dementus and company tear-assing around the wasteland, seizing settlements and running them into the ground, and you realize Joe and his consortium offer something that Dementus reasonably can't: stability—granted, an unwavering, unchangeable stability weighted in favour of Joe's own brutal caste system, but stability nonetheless. It really makes you wonder, how badly does a guy have to suck to make IMMORTAN JOE of all people look like a sane, competent and reasonable ruler by comparison?!?

…and then they open the door to the vault where he keeps his wives, and in a flash you're reminded just how awful Joe is and why Furiosa will risk her life to help some of these women flee from him years later. This new context enriches Joe and makes it more believable that he could maintain power for so long, but it doesn't make him any less of a monster, and it says a lot about Furiosa's hate for Dementus that she could grit her teeth and work for this sick old tyrant.

3. The Stowaway

Here's another wild bit of trivia about this movie: you don't actually see top-billed actress Anya Taylor-Joy pop up on screen until roughly halfway through, once Furiosa is in her late teens/early twenties. Up until this point she's been played by Alyla Browne, who through the use of some seamless and honestly really impressive CGI has been given Anya's distinctive bug eyes [complimentary]. It's one of those bold choices that really works because Miller commits to it so hard, though it does make me wish Browne's name was up on the poster next to Taylor-Joy's.

Speaking of CGI, I should talk about what seems to be a sticking point for quite a few people: if there's been one consistent criticism of Furiosa so far, it's that it doesn't look nearly as practical or grounded as Fury Road, with more obvious greenscreen and compositing, and what previously would've been physical stunt performers and pyrotechnics have been replaced with their digital equivalents for many shots. Simply put, it doesn't look as real! For a lot of people, that practicality was one of Fury Road's primary draws, so I won't try to quibble if they're let down by Furiosa's overt artificiality, but to be honest I'm actually quite fine with it. It helps that this visual discrepancy doesn't sneak up on you but is incredibly apparent right from the aerial zoom-down into Australia in the very first scene, so I didn't feel misled or duped.

Fury Road never asks you to suspend your disbelief because it all looks so believable; Furiosa jovially prods you to suspend that disbelief from the get-go and tune into it on a different wavelength. It's a classical epic, and like the classical epics of the 1950s and 60s it has a lot of actors standing in front of what clearly are matte paintings. It feels right! We're not watching fact, we're watching myth. I'm willing to concede there might be a little bit of post-hoc rationalization on my part because I simply love this movie so much, but I'm not holding the effects in Furiosa to the same standard as those in Fury Road because I simply don't believe Miller and his crew are attempting to replicate that approach. Without the extensive CGI, we don't get that impressive long, panning take where a stranded Furiosa scans the empty, dust-and-sun-scoured wasteland (75% Sergio Leone, 25% Andrei Tarkovsky), or the Octoboss and his parasailing goons. For the sake of intellectual exercise I did try imagining them filming the Octoboss/war rig sequence with the same immersive practical approach they used for Fury Road's stunts, however I just kept picturing dead stunt performers, so perhaps the tradeoff was worth it!

4. Homeward

Around the same time we meet the Taylor-Joy-pilled Furiosa in Chapter 3, we're introduced to Praetorian Jack, the chief driver for the convoys running between the Citadel and its allied settlements. Jack's played by Tom Burke, who pulled off a very good Orson Welles in Mank! and who I should really check out in The Souvenir one of these days. He's also a cool dude! Here are some facts about Praetorian Jack:

He's decked out in road leathers with a pauldron stitched to one shoulder

He's stoic and wary, but still more or less personable and can carry on a conversation

Professes to a certain cynicism, to quote Special Agent Albert Rosenfield, but ultimately has a capacity for kindness and will do the right thing

Shoots a gun real good

Can drive like nobody's business

So in other words, Jack is Mad Max. But also, no, he clearly isn't! He looks and dresses like Mad Max (particularly Mel Gibson's) and does a lot of the same things "Mad" Max Rockatansky does, but he's also very explicitly a distinct character. It's a choice that seems inexplicable and perhaps even lazy on its face, except this is a George Miller movie, so of course this parallel is extremely purposeful. Miller has gone on record saying he avoids any kind of strict chronology or continuity for his Mad Max movies, compared to the rigid canons for Star Trek and Star Wars, and bless him for doing so. It's more fun viewing each Mad Max entry as a new revision or elaboration on a story being told again and again generations after the fall, mutating in style, structure and focus with every iteration, becoming less grounded as its core narrative is passed from elder to youth, community to community, genre to genre, until it becomes myth. (At least, my English major brain thinks it's more fun.) In fact there's actually something Arthurian to it, where at first King Arthur was mentioned in several Welsh legends before Geoffrey of Monmouth crafted an actual narrative around him, then Chrétien de Troyes added elements like Lancelot and infused the stories with more romance, and then with Le Morte d'Arthur Thomas Malory whipped the whole cycle together into one volume, which T.H. White would chop and screw and deconstruct with The Once and Future King centuries later.

All this to say: maybe Praetorian Jack looks and sounds and acts like Max because he sorta kinda basically is, being just one of many men driving back and forth across the wasteland, lending a hand on occasion, who'll be conflated into a single, legendary "Mad Max" at some point down the line in a different History Man's retelling of Furiosa's odyssey. Sometimes that Max rips across the desert in his V8 Interceptor, other times driving a big rig. Perhaps there's a dog tagging along and/or a scraggly and at first aggravating ally played by Bruce Spence or Nicholas Hoult. Usually he has a shotgun. But so long as you aren't trying to kill him, he'll help you out.

5. Beyond Vengeance

The Mad Max movies have incredibly iconic villains—Immortan Joe! Toecutter! the Lord Humongous!—but they are exactly that, capital V Villains devoid of humanizing qualities who you can't wait to watch bad things happen to. Furiosa appears to continue this trend by giving us a villain who in fact has a mustache long enough that he could reasonably twirl it if he so wanted, but ironically Dementus ends up being the most layered antagonist in the entire series, even moreso than the late Tina Turner's comparatively benevolent Aunty Entity from Beyond Thunderdome. And because he's played by Chris Hemsworth, whose comedic delivery rivals his stupidly handsome looks, you lock in every time he's on screen.

Something so fascinating about Dementus is that, for a main antagonist, he's NOT all-powerful, and in fact quite the opposite: he's more conman than warlord, looking for the next hustle, the next gullible crowd he can preach to and dupe—though never for long. For all his bluster, at every turn he finds himself in way over his head and writing cheques he can't cash, and this self-induced Sisyphean torment makes him riveting to watch. You're tempted to pity Dementus but it's also quite difficult to spare sympathy for someone who's so quick to channel their rage and hurt and ego into thoughtless, burn-it-all-down destruction. When you're not laughing at him, you're hating his guts, and it's indisputably the best work of Chris Hemsworth's career.

It's in this final chapter that everything naturally comes to a head: Furiosa's final evolution into the character we meet at the start of Fury Road, the predictable toppling of Dementus' precariously built house of cards, and the mythmaking that has been teased since the very first scene becoming diagetic text, the last of which allows the movie to thoroughly explore the themes of vengeance it's been building to. A brief war begins, is summarized and is over in the span of roughly a minute, and on its face it's a baffling narrative choice that most other filmmakers would have botched. But our man Miller's smart enough to recognize that the result of this war is the most foregone of conclusions if you've been paying even the slightest bit of attention, so he effectively brushes past it to get to the emotional heart of the climax and an incredible "Oh shit!" payoff that cements Miller as one of mainstream cinema's greatest sickos.

Fury Road remains the greatest Mad Max film, but Furiosa might be the best thing George Miller has ever made. If not his magnum opus, it does at least feel like his dissertation, and it makes me wish Warner Bros. puts enough trust in him despite Furiosa's poor box office performance that he's able to make The Wasteland. Absolutely ridiculous that a man just short of his 80th birthday was able to pull this off, and with it I feel confident calling him one of my favourite directors.

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norrizzandpia · 1 year ago

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It’s Your Birthday. Of Course, I’m Here. (LN4)

Summary: It’s Lando’s birthday and Y/n can’t make it. Or so he thinks.

Warnings: language, Lando missing her gravely

Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY HUSBAND? I’m so in love with this man this is a national holiday.

“Are you boarding the plane?” Oscar asked Y/n from his side of the phone, his body turned away in the corner of hospitality.

Y/n, the girl murmuring a thank you to the flight attendant scanning her ticket, nodded with a smile, “Yes, I am. How is he? Does he know I’m coming?”

Oscar giggled, “Oh, no way. He’s been moping around all week because he thinks you won’t be here for his birthday. He doesn’t even want to go out on the night of his birthday! We’re in Vegas!”

Y/n laughed along with him, her heart slightly breaking for her boyfriend and his pity party, “Oh, no! Poor Lando. Well, hopefully, he’ll want to go out when he sees me.”

A mechanic tapping Oscar’s shoulder caused him to retreat from the conversation, “Yeah, exactly. Listen, I have to go, but text me when you land.”

Noises of agreement sounded from her as she said goodbye and hung up the phone. Oscar, standing awkwardly in front of his coworker, tried to seem nonchalant.

Jake smiled at him, “They need you in the garage.”

When he was about to walk past him, Jake grabbed Oscar’s arm, “Were you just talking to Y/n?”

Oscar’s heart dropped, plummeting to his feet when the surprise they had been planning for weeks was jeopardized. He shook his head immediately, “No. Not at all.”

Jake nodded slowly, “So, she’s not coming down here to surprise Lando for his birthday after telling him she couldn’t make it to that or the Vegas Grand Prix?”

Oscar sent him a confused look, “No.”

Yes.

—

Stepping off the plane, Y/n felt her palms become slick with the sweat of her nerves. This part of the plan was the hardest, getting to where Lando was without being recognized. With her hood pulled up, sunglasses on, and a mask resting tightly over the bottom half of her face, she weaved her way through crowds of people. Some were wearing Formula 1 merchandise, a few papaya fans sticking out, which brought a small smile to her face in memory of the man she was on her way to see.

Flashes of his sad smile plagued her brain from when she had told him she wouldn’t be able to tag along with him to the Vegas GP like she usually did, missing his birthday in the midst. He had assured her it was okay after she explained that she had an important test for university she couldn’t miss, however Y/n could see it in the way his eyes glazed over that he was trying to hold back begging her to skip it. He was trying to be a good boyfriend, that much she could tell and that much she was grateful for, but after seeing how disappointed he became, his laugh not holding its usual luster, she went to the professor to beg herself. She had explained to him the situation, even “jokingly” offering him free F1 paddock tickets in exchange for letting her take the test at a later date. By some miracle, or more genuinely by her professor’s kindheartedness, he told her that, because her grade was so strong, he would allow her to take it the week after she came back from her weekend in Nevada. He had laughed, praised her devotion toward her boyfriend, and told her that he was a fan of Lando himself, rooting for his coming win every race. The man had been so accommodating, Y/n had almost cried in front of him in his office, but she settled for crying in the privacy of the bathroom down the hall.

After that, she called Oscar, the boy letting out a sigh of relief that he wouldn’t have to handle Lando without his girlfriend and agreeing to help her surprise him.

Then, like a sequence of events, things fell into place. The McLaren marketing team caught wind of their plan and forced them to allow them to videotape the entire event, mentioning how fans would obsess over new Y/n and Lando content.

So, she found herself sliding into the backseat of a private driver for McLaren workings, with their camera man, John, sitting beside her.

She had met him before, multiple times considering how much time he spent with Lando, so the atmosphere was already comfortable.

John turned on the camera, the red light flickering as he asked, “So, how are you feeling?”

She smiled, “Good, excited to see him.”

John chuckled, “And who is ‘him’? Explain to the fans what we are doing.”

Y/n nodded, picking at the fraying edges of Lando’s hoodie she was wearing, “I am surprising Lando for his birthday! I just got off the plane from Monaco, landed here in Las Vegas, and, now, we are on our way to drop my stuff off at the hotel and then get ready to go see him! Originally, I wasn’t supposed to come, obviously, because I had a test I needed to take for my class, but my teacher, being the sweetest person to grace this Earth, allowed me an extension.”

John hummed, “And how do you think he will react?”

She let her head fall back on the seat behind her, smiling to herself at her predictions, “I think he’ll probably freak out. He’s always one for drama, don’t think that will change this time around.”

The camera shook lightly with John’s laughter, the two giggling over the driver. They shook their heads and rambled on about past instances where he’d blown minor things out of proportion. Promptly, Y/n compared herself and the surprise in store as something minor, but John was quick to disagree.

“You are so far from minor to that boy.”

—

The Hiltons that McLaren always put their workers up at always amazed Y/n. Being a broke college student who had barely scraped enough money together to study abroad in Monaco, her jaw was always on the floor when she walked through the doors and was met with the crystal chandelier, the granite floors, and grand vases of beautiful, colorful tulips and roses. Nonetheless, she had gotten slightly used to it after being with Lando for two years. She would always remember the first time he brought her along to a race, her staying in his room with the gigantic balcony accompanied by a jacuzzi and pool. He had told her it wouldn’t be anything special, but was proved wrong when they were given keys to the penthouse. She had gawked and gasped, all things Lando laughed at, while wandering through the rooms.

That weekend was ingrained into her mind as the introduction to Lando’s world.

John, camera by his side, conversed with the concierge as he checked her into Lando’s room. They had to be incredibly sly. They knew once Y/n surprised him, Lando wouldn’t settle for anything but her sleeping in his room. So, they wanted to solve that problem earlier, having Y/n drop her bags off in his room before everything unraveled.

They just needed to make sure he wasn’t there.

They just needed to make sure they didn’t disturb anything in the room, hiding her bags in the closet and hoping for the best.

When the receptionist validated Y/n’s identity, she gave them a key to his room. It was silent in the elevator as they climbed the floors, only having it being cut when her phone buzzed.

She reached down and turned it over, seeing a text from Oscar.

Oscar

DONT COME UP YET! WE HAVENT LEFT HIS ROOM

“Shit!” She yelped, typing furiously over the keyboard in response.

John turned the camera on, not wanting a moment to go to waste, “What’s going on?”

She turned her head, looking at him in a panic, “They’re still in his room!”

Their faces dropped, hearts pounding, as the elevator doors dinged and began opening. Lando’s voice filtered through the doors, along with Oscar’s. The two men were bickering.

“Lando, you’re taking so fucking long! Move your ass!” Oscar said, annoyed and very clearly agitated.

Lando groaned, “I don’t want to go out! Leave me alone!”

John’s mouth was on the floor at the footage he was getting as Y/n and him slid into the penthouse, trying desperately to find a hiding place.

She picked up her suitcase, however heavy, and walked carefully down a separate hallway that seemed to lead to a closet.

The two were close to getting there, out of sight, when Lando’s footsteps sounded close to them, rapidly approaching their location.

“Did the elevator just open?! I heard it!”

Y/n held her breath as she and John ran like hell into the first room they could find, it being a guest bedroom. She locked the door, listening intently to whatever was unfolding on the other side.

Oscar seemed to be feet away from her, “No, mate, it fucking didn’t. Now, can we leave? We have your birthday dinner to go to!”

Lando scoffed, “Fine, but if there is an intruder in my room and they end up stealing all my stuff, you’re paying for it.”

Knowing it was Y/n and the cameraman, Oscar nodded along, “Sure, mate.”

The elevator dinged once more with the two of them ready for departure, Lando giving, “And, for the record, I don’t even know why we’re going to a dinner for my birthday. I told you my birthday won’t be the same without Y/n. I told you I didn’t want to celebrate it if she wasn’t here.”

Y/n could see Lando’s pouty demeanor in her head along with Oscar’s dismissive face as he retorted, “Uh huh.”

—-

Thankfully, the rest of it all had gone smoothly. Dropping her things off after they left, getting ready, and getting to the restaurant all went according to plan.

In the last moments in the car before Lando was made aware of the things going on behind his back, John brought out the camera, “How you doing?”

Y/n nodded slowly, “Kind of nervous?” She giggled, shaking her head, “I don’t know. I just hope he didn’t catch on or anything.”

John blew a raspberry, “No way he did. I mean, that hotel thing was a super close call, but he didn’t know. I’m sure he doesn’t know.”

His words reassured her and, as they turned the corner with the destination seconds away, she said one last thing to the camera, “Lando, if you ever end up watching this, I don’t know if you watch these, I just want you to know I love you so much and I’m so proud of you and I hope you know I will stop at nothing to spend your birthday with you. You’re a fool for thinking I wouldn’t be here. I know I can say all of these things when I see you because I’m about to, but I think this just has a different impact. Plus it lets everybody know you’re mine. By the way, next time, take a shorter amount of time to get ready please. Jesus Christ, you gave me a heart attack earlier today when I had to run around your hotel room and find a hiding place because you wouldn’t leave.”

At that, the valet opened her door and she stepped out. John kept the footage going, knowing they would arrive at the grand finale any moment, and followed her into the establishment.

She walked up to the hostesses, the two women smiling back at her, “Hi, I’m here for the Norris reservation. I’m a bit late, I know, but I’m surprising the birthday boy.”

The workers’ faces lit up in realization, “Oh, you’re the girlfriend? His friend, the Australian, sorry I forgot his name, told us you would be coming. Right this way, miss.”

The brunette turned around and began walking toward the back, toward a private room. She made light conversation along the way, mentioning that Lando had spent the majority of their waiting for the table rambling about how much he wanted to call Y/n.

She was blushing by the time they stopped outside of the door that led to where the party was, thanking the woman for directing them and moving to face John.

“Ready?” She asked, looking at the camera to make sure that red light was blinking.

He nodded, “Always.”

She took a deep breath and opened the door lightly. Lando’s back was to her, Max, Oscar, and his parents facing her. She could tell they were trying to hold in their excitement as Lando retold a story about her and him getting ice cream one night at 3 AM. Their smiles were just barely being withheld from their faces as she waved to them softly and John stationed himself at an angle where the camera could see Lando’s reaction when he turned around.

He continued on, blissfully unaware of the girl behind him, “And then she said this really funny joke! Oh, crap, I can’t remember what it was. It was some cheesy dad joke about ice cream and I remember laughing so hard I almost peed my pants. Shit, what was it?”

A silence mulled over as he tried to remember, Y/n noticing her perfect cue, “I said, ‘why are popsicles so snobby?’ And you said you didn’t know, so I said, “they have a stick up their butt’. I’m pretty sure you did pee your pants laughing.”

She saw the way Lando’s hands tightened around the glass of water he was holding. He froze, “Am I going insane or is Y/n standing behind me?”

Cisca, the woman smiling from ear to ear, “She’s behind you, love.”

The glass came clattering down as he shot up from his chair and turned around wide-eyed.

“Y/N!” He screamed, running over to her and forcefully crashing into her, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

She laughed loudly as he kissed her neck aggressively, a thousand times over again. She let her arms intertwine around his neck and her hands tangle in his hair, whispering, “Happy birthday, baby. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I love you so much. You deserve all this and more.”

He pulled away, eyes glossy as he stared down at her and held her to him, “I missed you so much.”

She smiled back, “It’s only been a week, Lan.”

He scoffed, “Yeah, and that’s way too fucking long.”

She nodded as he leaned down and captured her lips with his, his friends whooping behind him teasingly.

He pecked her lips innocently, saving what he really wanted to do for the later part of the night, and led her to the table.

John and Y/n took their rightful seats, teeth on display at the success of their plan. John, being the perfect cameraman, continued to catch moments shared between the couple throughout the rest of the night. Lando’s hand interlocked with hers on the table, his kiss to her over the gift she got him, the way his hands securely held her hips on the side of the road while they waited for their car, the way he hugged her and whispered in her ear how happy he was to have her there with him, and everything in between.

Sweet, gentle instances that showed everyone just how in love the two were. Lando’s soft eyes resting on hers when she came into view was something that every fan couldn’t let go of the week later when it was posted. Everyone fawned over the two like they were destined to be together, fated in the stars.

Because they were and they always would be.

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batbabydamian · 6 months ago

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The Boy Wonder #1 by Juni Ba rambling about why every time i open this book, i stare in wonder...HAHA and ofc!! how cute Damian is!!

Juni Ba’s style is so absurdly effective in telling a fairy tale for the ages. It’s a stunning blend of simplicity and complexity I'M GRIPPING THE PAGES AGAINST MY EYES…

Before getting into the interiors, THE COVER!! It associates autumn leaves to Damian's Robin title through the iconic cape shape/color; and on top of that, for a Robin going through a big transition in his life...a season of change one might say...Juni Ba your brain...

Damian and the leaves being the only colored parts of this cover is nice in focusing on those elements, but i also like to think by not coloring the background it prepares you to expect impressive inkwork in this book.

On that note, the interiors!! Starting off with Ba's backgrounds of Gotham as it establishes the strange new world that our young hero has been thrust into:

We get a neat tracking shot following a champagne glass that gives us a glimpse of Gotham from the upper echelons to the downtrodden in "Underwell"

This opening sequence quickly lays out the environment Damian will be traveling through in this series! It also sets the tone for some silliness with the cute zoom on the champagne glass before it BOKs the robber lol. Along with Ba's inks, O'Halloran's colors makes every part of Gotham pop - especially love the golds of the higher society shifting into the blues of the underbelly!!

Besides Damian’s personal conflict, Gotham feels like its own entity that he has to contend with. The dialogue speaks for itself, but within the art as well!!

"This city of ours swallows and crushes everything it can" -> a gargoyle's beak over Damian, crowds of people, and walls of advertising

"You've seen it too...the way it coils around one's mind from below." -> bridges and a passing train on a rail viaduct towering over a civilian

"A dark voice calling as if to say..." -> literally, "FEED ME"

LOVELY SHOT OF MOVEMENT... and i love how Damian's venture into Gotham opens with him passing a tree - its branches and leaves are the most organic element on the page before getting into the gritty details of the city! Some yammering because the inks are. so cool: the delicate lines of the leaves in the tree to the thicker/bigger lined ones closer to the camera on the right; the background inks allowing space around Damian's form + the fine line of his grapple!! More O'Halloran praise - PRETTY, and love his coloring over Ba's bg lines, particularly here, keeping the leaves darker on the right.

It's not only a pretty page it's just a really clean layout!! Ba exhibits this throughout the book but i really enjoy it here - from Damian nyooming, we head into these last 3 panels. his cute lil "Robin" shape easily draws the eye to the tops of the panels as we take in Gotham's liveliness alongside the lettering/narration

and the "Robin" shape?? SO CUTE. it's instantly familiar to us as Robin!! bold outline and filled with yellow...it's a Robin in movement!!...AN AUTUMN LEAF IN THE WIND... yeah, still not over that 😭

Damian's inciting incident is introduced in the former panel with a gorgeous backdrop of Gotham in the distance (plus itty bitty Trinity cameo haha). The shot parallels!! beautifully!! in the final page!! Damian is now in the depths of Gotham, his objective out of reach. The colors are of note too, where the familiar yellows of Gotham are suddenly a startling green after the demon makes its appearance. The Gotham land looks even more unfamiliar, which prompts Damian to seek help.

Some speculation, but the green could also be associated with the more mythical side of demons and such (like the ghost?? of the thief), but it could even imply there's a connection to the Al Ghuls themselves as it's the only other time green is so prominently used.

Now that the land of Gotham is established, popping in other fav bgs!

More lovely mix of Ba's inks and O'Halloran's colors!! especially allowing some of the brush/marker strokes to show faintly as part of the twinkling sky...STUNNING!! 😭 i love this whole page but this panel gets me weepy, SMALL DAMIAN IN THE VAST UNIVERSE COMBINED WITH THIS LINE "He knew he could be great. How unfair of the world to make him feel so small." KICKS MY ASS... i need to lie down

YAPPING AT MORE WONDERFUL INKING: the suggestion of windows offscreen from the frames casting these thick lines over the walls and stairwell; the minute shadow details over the railing; the hatching on the suits in the portrait; the framed portrait being its own panel!! cute hooded Damian in the gutter space looking in on the portrait/panel!! CUTE HOODED DAMIANS!!

SPEAKING OF PANELS, along with general effectiveness and efficiency, there's more whimsy in others!! like this kickass page of Nightwing whipping his escrima from first panel -> afterimage lines going POWPOWPOW hitting demons from a distance to ones closer to the camera -> and back into his hand!! IT'S SO GOOD AND SO FUN!!

Ba's action employs more diagonal panels, and characters are less restrained within boxes - there's more energy and freedom across the page!

not necessarily focusing on the action for this one, but THE WHIMSY!! the border itself is goop!! Also gotta point out that looming hammer shape!!

Nightwing's critical hit spans the entire page!! from silhouettes of a flip -> flashy stomping pose/Clayface -> to a distant shot of Dick landing

and a smooth finisher page!! love the motion lines on Dick's arms and waist + his head and arc effects popping outside of the borders; then the smaller panels for quick activity, and the final WOOB WOOB WOOB LOL i can hear this sound effect just as much as i can see it

Along with O'Halloran on colors, Aditya Bidikar on lettering works seamlessly with Ba's vision!! The text boxes for the fairy tale narration are like strips of yellowing pages from an old storybook!! Had to look up the term for this lol, but also reminiscent of those storybooks, there's even a use of "drop caps" - the big fancy capital letter!

Smaller things of note, but the bit of "Weakness" text from Ra's has a kind of. grandiose feel to it. Then the cute B< Damian behind the window!! Love how the bubble and text are faded behind the glass too! The end of the bubble tail is a nice touch as it matches well with Ba's bg inking :0

Otherwise, it seems Ba has done a majority of the lettering - dropping a couple of my favs below!!

also just this whole page: the very loud AAAH! text draws both Damian's and the reader's attention to the panel below!! it's a cool transition to a new shot where you can see Damian's silhouette on the building! The final panel is cartoony violence off-page through the bold POW BOOM SLAM haha + DAMIAN'S LIL FIST!!🥺 and the guy's tooth RIP

Pure speculation - Juni Ba's concept art included Carrie Kelley, so i'm wondering if the hostage in the beginning could be her and we'll be returning to this moment in time by the end. The worn Robin colors are similar to the design + their head is conveniently covered.

In terms of story, I'm obviously heavily biased, but the initial read got me rolling in emotions with how it has you caring for Damian. Damian as a character is so fantastical in essence - it’s part of his individual charm in the batfam cast! an heir of two kingdoms, born and raised with great expectations suddenly thrust into an unfamiliar land. he has a sword. he has a dragon bat for a companion. he is haunted by the sins he has committed. he is two apples tall. he's truly fairytale material!!

LIKE...past the panels of only his silhouettes, this is our introductory appearances of Damian. It's laid out clearly in the narration, but this parallel is SO GOOD: from the powerful and ornate visuals of Damian and the Al Ghuls -> to a simple panel of Batman's shadow behind a boy littered in scars, stripped of his home and status

Damian is out of his element and proves himself in the way he knows how!!

just kick me down a flight of stairs why don't you. i don't know which messes me up more, the top 3 or bottom 3 panels. His facial expressions!! his expectations for approval dashed!! Damian's hand reaching for his father!! only to be left alone with the body. The page after this is the final nail in the coffin in feeling just how lost he is in the world before he acts on it. And you root for him the entire way!!😭

Despite Damian's fanciful background there's so much heart to be shown in his struggles and discoveries - and this classic form of a fairy tale lays it out so brilliantly!! It's shaping up to be an amazing balance of heavier elements and whimsy based on this first issue, and it leaves you wanting more!!

Besides being a thoroughly enjoyable read, it's inspiring work!! i've ordered Juni Ba's other books to consume more of his storytelling, and here's the ones i've found so far if you're interested in checking them out as well!!

Mobilis: My Life with Captain Nemo

Monkey Meat

Djeliya: A West African Fantasy Epic

The Unlikely Story of Felix and Macabber

okay shockingly, i didn't blab about how cute Damian is as much as i thought i would, but i think the collage at the top speaks for itself lol

this is all you need to know how cute Damian is in this!! his cheeks are so pinchable, it was done on page!! 🥺 these panels obliterate me

#rambling #damian wayne #it's been 2 weeks since this issue came out and i'm still cracking it open every other day #throwing my chattering into his tag to possibly get more people into the series especially if you're a fan of Damian!!#i even used capitalization for slightly easier reading LOLL #the Damian collage was taking so long i was laughing how i'm taking more time to do that than the actual ramble #then i started rambling and then i realized i couldn't shut up sdfgh #feel like i sound delusional most of the time so these are maybe my most coherent thoughts LOL #pointing at pages over my brother's shoulder 'love that...so cool...look how pretty that is...' articulating WHY makes me sound insane😭#the boy wonder

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coralinnii · 13 days ago

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Hello Coral~~💖💖✨✨ Congrats on your 2.7k Milestone 💐🎂✨ Like many others, I love your villainess au and happy that many people is supporting it ✨✨ For the event request, I have some brain rots about Sebek Silver Malleus being in a friendly culture (maybe theyre visiting Yuu's hometown and its really welcoming like the people from Kalim's Hometown)!! they refer to them as like their family, gifts them foods the very moment they visited, and not bothered that theyre faes since they know theyre just creatures who protects nature~ i think its a nice culture shock for them considering how secluded and proper briar valley is ✨

‧₊˚✧ It Takes a Village‧₊˚✧

↳ Getting Culture Shock from Your Hometown

feat: Sebek ❋ Silver ❋ Malleus genre: fluff, note: no pronouns were used for reader, established relationships, set before Book 7 (mostly because I haven’t finished it yet),

A lot of the scenarios are inspired and modeled after my experiences growing up, which is very Southeast Asia-coded. So, I apologise if this is not actually how you envision. Hope you still enjoy, though.

similar post: Getting Culture Shock from your Friendly Family (Sebek, Silver, Malleus)

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

You’d be absolutely evil if you didn’t even try to warn your uptight boyfriend. I’d love you for that

Sebek has finally found his match as his own voice gets drowned out by the boisterous market vendors and customers, but he’s more surprised by the forward way everyone seems to address each other.

“Sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m-”

“Sebek, he’s not really my uncle. We call everyone that.”

You would have to keep Sebek on tight hold because he’s a gullible green bean. The freshman burns in embarrassment at every “handsome boy” or “strong guy” comment calling out for his attention. He won’t lie, his ego is inflated quite a bit but it’s still strange to hear someone other than you call him that.

On the other hand, he’s not too sure how to feel when vendors of all ages were calling out to you the same way. You may be used to it but Sebek isn’t, especially if he’s not used to calling you beautiful or cute himself yet.

But, he could take this as a challenge to improve himself. For every compliment they give, he’ll give you tenfold. This he swears!

To your luck, it seems that the market the two of you were visiting was hosting a mini concert as music and lights filled a well-known open space near the market.

Visitors and locals young and old surrounded the space, either resting while eating their confections or grooving to the catchy tune of the music blasting through the speakers.

Then, a particularly famous song began to play, and Sebek flinched as the crowd suddenly burst in excited cheers and laughter, you included. Many women and men jumped to their feet, with some confidently running to the center of the space. You jumped to your feet as they did, but you chose to stand close to your confused boyfriend.

Sebek’s expression was a comedic masterpiece as he watched you and many others start this synchronized sequence of silly movement, identical to the minor beat. Those who didn’t join were still clapping in unison while joyously laughing.

What sort of local ritual was this?

The synchronous dance was short lived, and soon people were divided into those who resumed their previous activity or continued swaying to the melody.

You fell into the latter category, even reaching to Sebek hoping to persuade him to join you.

Sebek was shocked and a little offended. He was a man of great honor and pride. He’d rather be caught dead than to devolve himself to this undignified manner of dance, if you could even call it so. No, he would never stoop so low, even if the string lights gave off this tempting glow around you, your soft hand still reaching out to him while you looked at him so lovingly…

Well, the knight-in-training thought he could allow such exceptions once in a while, especially when you smiled so beautifully when he joined you on the dance floor.

Don’t let Sebek know, but he became sort of a local online sensation as someone slyly took a video of him smiling so softly at you after putting on such a grumpy persona.

Every reshare of this video was always paired with the caption, “Scary man turns into puppy for his lover”

See, you can’t tell if your community is being especially friendly, or maybe it’s just that the beautiful young man next to you is just too irresistible to ignore.

All the chatty aunties were cooing over Silver and even the laid-back uncles sitting around were praising the cut of Silver’s muscular figure.

But, you won’t say anything because you just wanted Silver to smile and bask in the well-deserved praises.

“The locals here are quite friendly to strangers like me, even offering small treats.”

“Mhm, they sure are.”

Silver is amazed by the seamless blend of close bonds and community from what he sees. Customers casually chatting with workers as children run around without worries in this homely environment.

In comparison to them, Silver felt a little inadequate as he couldn’t express himself as openly as the locals do so easily.

But maybe because they’re so open with everyone, he feels this sense of safety to try.

“So you’re not from around here, are you?” The kind woman asked the silver-haired man as her fingers deftly package and wrap some snacks you two picked out to share with others back in NRC.

“No, I’m actually from Briar Valley.”

“Hmm, that’s the fae kingdom, right?” The woman’s curiosity peaked. “Are you fae, then? I couldn’t tell.”

“Well no, I’m human. I was adopted by my father who’s from Briar Valley.”

“Just him? No one else?” The store owner asked without looking at Silver once, instead moving back and forth to get things done behind the counter, but her attention was still locked on him.

“There were a few others I grew up with, but my father was the one who raised me”

It was only then when the busy woman slowed down a smidge, pausing for a moment before untying the bag that held your snacks. You watched her tossed a few more small packets of snacks near her counter.

“These are very popular, share them with your father.” She looked sternly into your boyfriend’s iridescent eyes, the first time in a while since you’ve been in the store. “Make sure to visit him, okay?”

Silver wanted to protest, to correct the misunderstanding. The snacks the two of you picked out already included some for Lilia and he couldn’t possibly ask for more without paying.

It was up to you to intervene. “Just give up, Silver. You can’t change a woman’s mind.”

The store owner nodded. “Listen to the smart one. Just take it, I insist.”

With a sliver of guilt but a lot of warmth, Silver eventually accepted the kind woman’s offering before leaving the establishment.

What Silver didn’t see however, was you sneaking a few snacks and a drink onto the counter with adequate fare tucked underneath. You shared a look with the store owner before leaving, playfully staring her down to not to refuse your offering.

The store owner let out a laugh, thinking what a cute couple you were.

Regardless of wherever he goes, Malleus sticks out like a sore thumb, a very intimidating sore thumb.

Eyes naturally glance at him with curiosity throughout the market, amazed by the regal figure walking around, like a celebrity strolling around the local areas.

If your hometown speaks another language, some of the market vendors would tell you not-so sneakily how attractive your lover was while Malleus was none the wiser.

But, as curious as the humans were, they were quick to accept him as is, which shocked the fair-skinned fae. It wasn’t as though he was being avoided or judged, but rather the community took him and his inhuman appearance as typical. Undaunted by anything, the nosy sellers would joke and compliment him like any other walking around here.

“What a handsome fae you are, you can be a model!” “And tall! He can reach the top of our tent, haha!”

Malleus can tell his horns and ears are eye-catching to say the least, but everyone was quick to grow accustomed to his features, even warning him to watch his head should he bump into anything in this crowded alley.

“Are those with my features a common prevalence in your homeland?”

“No, you’re a rarity around here. But that doesn't mean you don’t belong here any less.”

“Ah, so this is how a beautiful soul is cultivated,” Malleus thought, gazing softly as you and a kind merchant searched around the store for a shirt that could fit the future king.

The day was setting, and you and Malleus decided to rest at a popular park that was famous for its view of the town. You weren’t alone as both locals and visitors filled the space, either resting or making memories with their friends and families.

Then, you heard a whisper from a timid voice behind the two of you.

“Um, mister.” You turned around to see some local children looking curiously at Malleus.

“Are you fae?” The eldest boy spoke first, nervously clutching his jacket.

When Malleus calmly responded in affirmation, the other children lit up with excited smiles.

“You’re super tall, taller than my dad!” Another child exclaimed, “Are all fae tall like you?”

Malleus smirked rather haughtily. “Very few others, fae or otherwise, stand on par to myself.”

”I’m the tallest in my class!” The eldest boy blurted out, even puffing his chest and slightly leaning on his toes. “It’s because I drink my milk everyday. Do you drink milk?”

You abruptly nudged your lover before intervening. “Yes he does, which is why you need to drink milk and other healthy food to keep growing.”

A little girl, hidden behind the first two children, spoke out. “How long is your hair? My hair is really long too!”

She pushed her long braided hair to the front, comparing her neatly combed hair to Malleus’s direction.

“Your hair is quite long indeed, perhaps matching mine in length at first glance.” Malleus commented back, amused by the children’s competitive nature.

After sharing all of their thoughts, the curious children finally left when their guardians called them back, waving at the two of you before running out of sight. Now free, Malleus looked to you with curiosity of his own gleaming in his striking green eyes.

“The offspring of this land are inquisitive as they are fearless,” Malleus smiled in your direction. “I wonder if all children hailed from here shared these traits.”

Were you like them as a child?

You picked up on his unspoken question and replied with a cheeky expression. “Wouldn’t you like to know~”

Would he? Would he like to know if you were the type to run around so carefree and see the world with such interest and curiosity. If your future children would be like those endearing little ones just now…

Yes, he would.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #sebek zigvolt #twst sebek #sebek x reader #malleus draconia #twst malleus #malleus x reader #twst silver #twst silver x reader #2.7k followers event

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blacktabbygames · 5 months ago

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Something I've been curious about were you guys always going to plan the stranger having her own special ending before you got to the final stranger? Or was that something you decided after you finalize the stranger?

A lot of the narrative design work on Slay the Princess came from following things to what felt like their logical conclusions, and letting the pieces fall into place as they clicked. Given the looping nature of the game, it made sense for the "final" encounter to be with the "first" Princess, taking you right back to where you started and asking you to make the same choice you had to make at the very beginning of the game, but now with all of the context that comes with playing through the game. The Stranger stuck out like a sore thumb there, since if you do her route first, she's the first Princess you meet, rather than Chapter 1's Knife!Princess or NoKnife!Princess. So it only made sense to give her a special ending, which also balances out how short/linear her route is overall (even if, in terms of game logic, she had far and away the most complicated chapter to code.) The Unknown Together ending in general was another piece of the puzzle that just happened to fall into place near the end. In the earliest draft of that ending sequence (in my brain only) you would arrive at the final cabin knife-already-in-hand, since you'd only get there by resisting the Shifting Mound. But as we started actively working on that part of the script, it felt more compelling to set up that final situation as a more direct mirror of Chapter One.

And because we wanted it to be a reflection of the beginning of the game, it made sense that whether or not you take the blade with you downstairs should be a huge decision. Almost a little test for our players — did you realize by the end of your runs that the knife doesn't, like the Hero suggests, "always seem to give us more options than not?"

But needing to include that choice raised the question of, "well, what happens, metaphysically, if you don't bring the knife?" And the answer that was most compelling to us was "we don't know, and the fact that we don't know is what makes the choice so compelling." One of those bits where it's wild to think about how late an addition that ending was, since I think it's vitally important to the themes of the story. If the nature of death is a major thematic through-line of Slay the Princess, The Unknown Together is the only ending that truly confronts its terrifying mysteries, and it does so by abandoning fear on the floor of that final cabin.

#slay the princess #there's probably a ton to say about the earlier ideas we had for the climax #but that's probably something to post about some other time.#for now i return to scarlet hollow

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cartoon-buffoon · 12 days ago

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SPOILERS FOR FINDING FRANKIE

Real quick one little thing I love about Finding Frankie that I see people also going fucking crazy over is the OST/Final boss fight and the song playing during it. I've genuinely been listening to it on repeat and I don't really like dubstep but this song scratches apart of my brain that hasn't been scratched since I saw playtime with Percy and it's boss fight. Like seriously listen to → it, it's golden.

But also the "STOP MESSING WITH MY FUCKING GAMESHOW!" before the beat drop is something I find both terrifying and awesome at the same time. Before this we are led to believe monster Frankie is just that, a monster. It appears as nothing more than some beast that real Frankie sicks on us in attempt to end us and only actually stops when he realizes the MC being alive could boost ratings. It is just a monster that listens to the commands of the puppet master to kill and nothing more.

And then this boss fight happens where we get evidence that: NO! ITS SENTIENT AND INTELLIGENT! The Cartoon Frankie that hacks the TVs and cusses us out doesn't appear to be the real Frankie because it makes no sense for him to cuss us out only to then give us a business proposition. After all we are doing what we are SUPPOSED to be doing, we are in the final area providing content and boosting ratings, logically real Frankie would want us to CONTINUE because we are in no way ruining it. That just leaves the only other one who would want us dead— Monster Frankie. After all people are apparently betting who will kill us and with the Xs under Henry Hotline and Deputy Duck it's clear people anticipate us to die to Frankie and it seems like Frankie himself has had enough of our shit. This is HIS gameshow and he's enraged you are still alive.

I also believe this because for some reason real Frankie comes and hushes us as monster Frankie walks above in the sewer area. My theory is that after the vent sequence where real Frankie holds back monster Frankie from killing us, monster Frankie gets fed up with us living thus he's going on a direct path to murder us disobeying orders leaving real Frankie to come and help us get to the finale. It's his show where HE is the star, not us, and in the final conflict he lets out his rage by somehow hacking the TVs and telling us to just fucking die already showing that he's fully in control of all the slaughter he did. This is just a theory after all but it makes the most sense to me and adds a cool bit of detail to monster Frankie's character.

#rambles from toon #finding frankie #spoilers #finding frankie spoilers #headcanon #hc #video game theory

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caligvlasaqvarivm · 4 months ago

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Why the Alpha Timeline is the Alpha Timeline

I figured I'd make a post, since it's pretty subtle and I think it genuinely passed a lot of people by? Homestuck is made up of a lot of words, haha.

The alpha timeline is described by Doc Scratch, functionally, as "the timeline that causes LE to exist."

The path which alone has my absolute mastery is the alpha timeline, a continuum I define as that which boasts exclusive rights both to my birth and to my death, two circumstantially simultaneous events.

Aranea also gives the explanation that the alpha timeline is the one where reality is perpetuated.

AG: Reality itself is using you and many others to propagate its own existence. Strictly speaking, there is only one path to its successful propagation. 8ut it still permits you to make choices.

Caliborn also states that his quest as a Lord of Time is coming to terms with the inevitability that everything, ever, in all of time, will be because of him - that he'll be the one to shape it, including the circumstances of his own defeat.

uu: AS A LORD OF TIME. I THINK I'M GOING TO MASTER TIME. NOT WITH MY BRAIN. WHICH WOULD BE TOO HARD. BUT WITH MY INSTINCTS. uu: LIKE IN A WAY THAT WORKS WITH MY NATURAL IMPULSES. SUCH AS MY AMBITION. MY WILL TO COMMIT MAYHEM. MY DESIRE TO PUNISH THOSE I DESPISE. uu: SO IF I WANT YOU TO BECOME STRONG. SO YOU CAN CHALLENGE ME LATER. AND I SEE EVIDENCE. THAT YOU PROBABLY BECOME SUCCESSFUL. uu: I THINK TO MYSELF. WHY SHOULDN'T I BE THE ONE TO MAKE THAT HAPPEN? IF IT'S GOING TO ANYWAY. uu: I THINK PART OF MY PERSONAL QUEST. IS TO BECOME AT EASE WITH THE FORCES OF INEVITABILITY. uu: INEVITABILITY THAT ALL THINGS SHOULD AND WILL FALL IN MY FAVOR. THAT ALL CAUSALITY ANSWERS TO ME. AND THAT ALL OUTCOMES NOT ONLY SERVE ME. BUT CONSIST OF MY BEING. uu: SO I FEEL THAT. THE MORE I GROW IN POWER. uu: THE MORE STUFF IT SHOULD TURN OUT I AM RESPONSIBLE FOR. uu: UP TO AND INCLUDING. EVERYTHING THAT EVER HAPPENS. uu: EVEN IF IT HAS TO BE. uu: RETROACTIVELY.

Aradia's stint as stewardess of the afterlife is explicitly described as "service to the lord of double death," and Dave explains that he acts instinctively - like Caliborn does - to fulfill the conditions of the alpha timeline. It's also worth noting that their classes, Maid and Knight, are roles that directly serve a Lord in the real world.

TEREZI: LUCK1LY YOU M4K3 4N 4DOR4BL3 H4NDM41D TO TH3 M4ST3R OF D34TH, 3SP3C14LLY 1N YOUR CUT3 CH3RRY P1X13 3NS3MBL3 ARADIA: you think so?

GG: well youre from the future right? GG: dont you know already if itll work? TG: yeah more or less TG: i never really studied how it went down all that closely TG: i just figured when the time came to sort it out the right thing to do would be obvious TG: like it is now TG: managing the loops is a balance of careful planning and just rolling with your in the moment decisions TG: and trusting they were the ones you were always supposed to make TG: by now im pretty used to having my intuition woven into the fabric of the alpha timeline

I'm starting with all that so I can explain that the GAME OVER timeline doesn't end when the time players disappear from it, like doomed timeline offshoots normally do, because it IS the alpha timeline: the sequence of events that causes GAME OVER to occur is the sequence of events that Caliborn/Lord English have chosen: one where (nearly) everyone dies, all hope of victory is lost, and his servant, the Condesce, gets to claim the Ultimate Reward, perpetuating the same misery and oppression in the new universe, and presumably all universes to come.

We see from Caliborn's chess match with Calliope that his (and by extension, LE)'s modus operandi is to follow the rules to the letter, while manipulating his opponent, tricking them with "shitty twists". It's always been explained that LE's actions have been "sanctioned by paradox space," that is, everything he's doing is explicitly allowed, nothing he's doing is against the rules - including the fact that he must be defeated. He has, via his mastery of time, perfectly engineered a situation where the only viable reality is the one where yes, he IS defeated... in the dream bubbles, by the dead and doomed, whom he sent to the dream bubbles in the first place via Condy, Jack English, and all the other boss fights. And his will, his ideals, are imposed on the new universe in spite of his defeat.

In a completely Watsonian read of the text, Lord English is an incredible villain because - subtly and unsublty - he IS basically responsible for every bad thing that ever happens, ever, to everyone. He has legitimately been the puppetmaster pulling the strings the entire time, pretty much all because Caliborn is a huge asshole who loves to hurt other people, and wants to do it as much as he can, to as many people as he can, for as long as he can.

But I think he's especially interesting through a Doylist perspective, through a reading of the text as a coming of age. Homestuck is a worth riddled with theme and symbolism, and thematically, Lord English represents everything that these kids need to overcome in order to mature into kind, empathetic adults who will be one day responsible for the care and oversight of a new universe. He represents selfishness, sadism, greed, destruction, oppression, fascism, murder, genocide, and hatred. And also literally the patriarchy.

And, you know what? Don't take my word for it. Here's Andrew Hussie's commentary from Book 6 Act 5 Act 2 Part 2:

Much of the logic [for who contributes to Lord English] orbits around these negative traits associated with men, or more specifically, the “toxically masculine” aspects often linked to certain male personalities. Dirk has a lot of these traits, which are central to Dave’s feelings of tension and abuse concerning his bro. The intellectual aggression, the power of assertion, the knowitall-ism, the mansplaining. That’s a lot of Dirk stuff when he’s at his worst. Equius shares a lot of those traits too, with some different points of emphasis. Both of them have this creepy-guy streak running through them, with strange or offputting interests, and seem to get a quiet kick out of making others uncomfortable through demonstrations of these fascinations. They are actually pretty similar characters in this way.

He's invited into the trolls' universe (and, by extension, the kids' universe) via the Dancestors, in an original sin kind of way. I'll let Hussie explain on their Formspring (emphasis mine):

We learn more about the troll race, as a once peaceful species and such before kid-ancestors as players scratched their session, though the short term relevance of this is mainly as a preamble to Scratch's religious story. Establishing an Eden-like paradise from which there is some departure through sin is sort of the boilerplate basis for religious lore. ... The failed players from peaceful Alternia made a classic "deal with the devil" move by causing the scratch after being given a choice by the mother of all monsters. (Echidna. Hey, she's a big snake!) By doing so they brought Scratch into their universe, and therefore all the things you'd expect that comes with summoning the devil.

The Dancestor's "departure through sin"? It was the fact that they couldn't get their shit together and grew up inside the Medium. That's why they're the age they are, 9 sweeps - adulthood by troll standards. They aren't kids anymore because that's the ultimate sign of having failed to do a coming of age. Symbolically, the Dancestors represent a prior generation of grown-ups that fucked everything up, leaving a huge mess for their descendents to clean up after. In fact, Doc Scratch even describes the alternate choice Echidna gave them:

The heroes could either accept their defeat along with the extinction of their race, and put no others at risk.

In other words, they could have stopped LE if they'd simply chosen not to Scratch. But once more, in line with their behavior up until that point, they chose the selfish option, and bore descendants into the world they ruined. They're immature, nasty, mean-spirited, cruel, callous, and shallow on purpose, because their role in the story is antagonistic. They're aligned (even if unwittingly) with Lord English, as they're the ones who directly invited him in via their failure to grow the fuck up.

There's also a reason why SBURB/SGRUB directly tie achieving godhood and reaching the Ultimate Reward to planetary quests fundamentally designed to help children mature. God-tiering is supposed to come at the end of one's quest, as achieving it directly teleports you to the Battlefield for the final boss.

AG: I really think how successfully they mature is tied to success in the game. It challenges the players in all the ways they need to 8e challenged to grow, which is different for every individual, and veeeeeeeery different for every race. AG: I don't think we were so hot at that aspect of the game. In fact, I'm sure we were quite awful. Hell, even I wasn't that gr8 at it! I actually just kinda fell ass 8ackwards into the god tier, to 8e honest.

And there's a perfectly functional Watsonian explanation for this - in order to increase the odds that the new universe will successfully propagate new universes, it's ideal to leave it in the hands of kind, mature people. But the Doylist explanation is, again, even more interesting.

Hussie has spoken extensively about the comic having always been about two things at its core: first, a creation myth... and second, a coming-of-age. These are complimentary themes, as Homestuck also makes statements about society and its effects on kids. In the real world, the kids of today become the voters, revolutionaries, and lawmakers of tomorrow. In Homestuck, they create, and are responsible for, a new universe.

I always saw HS as an exploration of young people developing relationships over the internet […] There’s a lot more to HS than just that obviously, but if there’s anything which it’s been about through and through, it’s modern kids relating to each other from afar, developing as people and growing up.

In fact, all the initial kids' entry artifacts are metaphors for "departures, loss of innocence, and sometimes the journey from childhood to adulthood outright." John biting an apple, symbolizing the act that cast Adam and Even from Eden. Rose breaking a bottle, the act of christening a boat, and an item integral to the main means by which she relates to her mother, alcohol - an adult substance. Dave hatching an egg, literally the act of bringing new life into the world. Jade shooting an effigy of her dog, both symbolic of Old Yeller, and of breaking a pinata, an act often done at quinceneras.

There comes a point in childhood where the child stops being a child - the safe, familiar, comfortable world that they knew stops existing, and they can never get it back. They are thrust into a world that is alien and massive, and forced to grapple with the weight of their future duties. They deal with losing their guardians and finding direction in their absence. They must decide how they want to grow up, and then are responsible for shaping the society that comes after them. In other words, SBURB/SGRUB in this metaphor represent adolescence.

Within that context, God-tiering is actually interesting because it symbolizes adulthood - a semi-permanent state that a child is supposed to reach at the end of their SBURB/SGRUB journey. And, in fact, it's treated that way - none of the characters reach god-tiering the "proper" way... and of our god-tiered characters, nearly all of them have some sort of emotional struggle with growing up too fast. Vriska with the expectations of her shitty society, Rose with her emulation of her mother, Dave with his abusive brother, and the Alpha kids with substance abuse (the jujus) and romantic drama.

Anyway, sometimes when Mario's running sideways he gets a star that makes him magic and invincible. OH. YOU MEAN HE BECOMES TRICKSTER MARIO. Yes, but less stupid. So for a while he becomes flashy and hyperactive and nothing's challenging anymore. He just starts barreling over mushrooms and leaping over pits as fast as he can, then gets to the end and jumps on the flagpole and that's it. Mario "wins". But the point is, he didn't really win. That magic star was actually devastating to his development as a human being. WHY. Because he skipped over many critical trials on his spiritual journey. Mario NEEDS to stomp on all those mushrooms. He NEEDS to bonk those bricks with his head, for the sake of his personal growth. By using the star, he is denying himself many powerful moments of catharsis.

Like... I dunno... seems pretty blatant to me!

So with Homestuck so firmly being a coming of age, and with the Dancestors - whose primary failure is that of unrelenting immaturity - being cast in an antagonistic role, doesn't that make Caliborn's position of ultimate final boss extremely fitting when we take this conversation into account?

You may be destined for bigger things, but you’re still an atrocious, stupid child. And you may have won the “game” with your sister, but that doesn’t mean it was the best thing for your development as a person. You had her dream self killed, which is not an opportunity your species typically gets. So she died prematurely, instead of allowing the conflict within you to settle itself naturally. In short, you forced your predomination to happen a little too early, and now you’re stuck. STUCK? Yes. Your personality is stuck in some sort of cantankerous prepubescent limbo. You are going to be a stunted, miserable tool forever.

He's literally a child who chose to stunt his own growth so that he could reap all the game's rewards for himself. Someone who so stubbornly desired the selfish, greedy, and immature option that he was willing to hurt himself to achieve it. Caliborn - and by extension, Lord English - is a direct symbol for the refusal to mature, to be kind, to care about other people. By including Dirk, Gamzee, and Equius at their worst, he also comes to represent misogyny, toxic masculinity, the patriarchy. He's the Condesce's master, and so by extension, he represents fascism and oppression; as Doc Scratch, he gets off on abusing girls, and so he also represents predators and abusers. And his goal is to perpetuate himself, his ideals, what he symbolically represents, down every successive generation. Much like how these cycles of abuse and oppression seek to perpetuate themselves in the real world!

And that's why the alpha timeline, the GAME OVER timeline, is the way that it is: it's one where Lord English WINS. In Lord English's version of the story, everything is fucked up forever. He might be defeated, as is the timeline's inevitability, but his politics, his bigotry, and his ideals live on.

Except.

Our Breath player gains a power that literally unsticks him from time.

Now, personally, I don't believe that the ending we got is the one that was originally intended. I don't feel the need to elaborate upon that here, but suffice to say, given how clearly and consistently these themes are set up throughout the entire rest of the comic, it just makes sense to me that the ending we got, where characters stay dead, never finish their character development, etc. etc., is a MASSIVE tonal and thematic departure, which smacks of external pressures and influences. Everything after [S] GAME OVER is soft canon to me for this reason. But there's things that survive in it that are really really interesting, so I'll mention some.

First, the pre-retcon versions of the characters still exist, as we see from (Vriska). That means that everyone who died in GAME OVER would not necessarily have stopped mattering to the plot. I firmly believe that the original ending would've seen Lord English confronted by the GAME OVER (characters), who would also have the most karmic claim to beating Lord English's face in. This would also satisfy his whole deal of playing by the rules - he knows he HAS to be defeated, he just gets to choose the circumstances of his defeat; without realizing that John's retcon powers can rewrite a timeline, he would've set up his own death to be in the bubbles, at the hands of the already-dead, while Condy claims the Ultimate Reward - thus making it so that he still wins in the end.

But Breath represents freedom, choices - and the retcon powers are something John gains mastery over after completing his personal quest, which we've established is directly tied, both literally and symbolically, into growing up and maturing. By becoming a kind, empathetic, mature adult, John is able to choose something else.

Second, that the Ultimate Self is brought up at all, which seems to me like it would mitigate the bittersweetness of the (characters) from GAME OVER staying dead - because, in my head, the original plan for the retcon was that it would bring everyone back, and therefore, all the (characters) from GAME OVER would live on through the surviving post-retcon gang, who will eventually achieve Ultimate Selfhood, as Davepetasprite^2 says they will. This would also directly mirror the words Godtier!Calliope gives to her counterpart:

CALLIOPE: bUt then... CALLIOPE: what shoUld i do? CALLIOPE: you don't need to do anything. CALLIOPE: be who you've become, and who i didn't. CALLIOPE: consume the fruits of an existence i could never understand. CALLIOPE: live.

Third, there's just so many outstanding plot threads, even for the characters that DO survive. Jake's prophesized to defeat Lord English, Dave never actually gets over his hesitance about time travel and defeating Lord English, Karkat has multiple means of bringing his dead friends back to life and doesn't say anything, Vriska and Terezi still aren't 100% reconciled, Gamzee's tragedy is never addressed, Jane, Dirk, Jake, and Roxy never really figure out their situationship, etc. etc. etc. ... to say nothing about all the plot threads left dangling for the characters that stay dead.

And finally...

Isn't that just kind of a better story? One where the kids get to grow, change, learn from their mistakes, and create a better, kinder universe, after defeating the avatars of cruelty, oppression, and immaturity?

Is it just me? Haha.

#homestuck #lord english #caliborn #doc scratch #andrew hussie #aranea serket #calliope #vriska serket #rose lalonde #dave strider #jade harley

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