#its really cool that for the most part folks are respectful to one another in my tags/comments

[housederiva]

Your art is FANTASTIC and the random observations/polls/interjections you make have really helped to fuel the DA fandom in positive ways! Which it definitely needed after Veilguard's release, lmao. It's always a pleasure to see you on my dashboard!

That's very kind of you to say oh my gosh thank you so much. I'm just bumbling around and every once in a while I say something people think is worth sharing, and I like sharing what other folks feel/make too! I'm glad I'm a not too much of an annoyance xx

I think my favorite thing about having this blog is the notes I see on other peoples posts I rb, it’s nice seeing all sweet things get things sent an artist way or conversations/theories carried on in a rb chain

It’s a big ol show n tell and it’s a wonderful reprieve from my normal day to be able to see other folks stuff too ✨

[hiiragi7]

Since it's still somehow being argued that "nobody can explain the harm a word does", let's go through cultural appropriation 101.

Cultural appropriation is the act of taking things that aren't yours from another culture, without respect or permission from the original culture. This is not limited to just negative imitation of a culture, but also things such as taking from a culture due to fixating on the "cool foreign" aspects, which feeds into racism and stereotyping.

This is what Alexandra David-Néel did in creating the word "Tulpa". Many things she did are horrifically appropriative and orientalist, but I will stick to just talking about the word Tulpa in this post.

First, what harm does cultural appropriation in general do? Let's talk about it.

Cultural appropriation is a part of a much larger racism issue - And while specific acts of appropriation may seem small to the ones that are not being appropriated from, it is often very painful to the people of the cultures that things are being taken from, and it is everywhere. It is a far bigger picture than most people ever really grasp. It is not just about the colorful dreamcatcher you see sold at the gas station, or someone cosplaying as another culture for Halloween; No, it is an entire movement, and in many places, it is embedded so deep that it seems impossible to ever be rid of it.

I was raised with a wide variety of different cultures. Each act of appropriation I see from those outside these cultures feels like a mockery.

It hurts to see things we call sacred be white washed and then sold for profit to other whites. It hurts to constantly feel on guard when you see items from your culture out in public spaces, because you do not know whether they are genuine or whether they are something a white person made because they thought it was "cool" without understanding or respecting it. It hurts to hear others use words that they do not know the meaning of. It hurts to watch movies with people not of your culture wearing a poorly made version of your culture's clothes. It hurts to be told you're the oversensitive one for "making everything about race".

Cultural appropriation is not solely about the act itself; it is a symptom of a far larger issue, one which every small appropriation seems to scream "Look how much I don't care about you or your culture. Look at how much I have taken from you."

When you walk into a store and see a mockery of your culture being mass-produced and sold to people who have no right to it, when you hear songs casually mention words they should never use, when you see social media trends taking entire concepts from your culture and completely changing it until it's unrecognizable - This shit hurts, and it's everywhere.

Now, let's talk briefly about Tulpa.

Tulpa is not as widespread a term as some more well-known cultural appropriation examples are. However, to pretend as though the harm done is somehow excusable due to that is really to say you do not know much about racism. Each "small" act of racism, things which you may not even think twice about, can be a painful reminder of oppression. "Tulpa" is no exception.

Tulpa, as a term, is harmful because it is appropriation. To call it non-harmful is to either say that cultural appropriation is not harmful or that Alexandra David-Néel did not appropriate it, both points which would require a lot of stretching of the truth and racism in order to make.

As a western term, Tulpa is itself a reminder of how Asian cultures and religions are stolen from, and how little people care so long as it benefits them personally. It is a representation of orientalism and lack of racial awareness in plural spaces.

I'd also like to talk about how the pro-Tulpa terminology side reinforces racism in other ways in its attempts to defend the word Tulpa.

A lot of pro-Tulpa terminology folk seem to misunderstand that the argument is not "Tulpa is the main source of racism in the plural community, and changing the word will make the racism go away."

No. The usage of the word "Tulpa" is a symptom, not the cause. It is a symbol of appropriation, of lack of care and respect, of racial issues that were already there and which will remain there until an active effort is made to change it.

The outrage from the anti-Tulpa terminology side comes not solely from the use of the word itself, but also from the lack of willingness to change or to even entertain a conversation which ends in anything other than "The western use of Tulpa isn't racist, and I should be allowed to keep using it."

The argument of the anti- side is not "Changing the word will solve racism". Rather, it is that changing the word is a symbol representing promised change in the community, of an active and intentional move towards racial awareness and safety. That is what we mean by "this is a bigger issue than syscourse". When you refuse to change, it is a spit in the face of all the ones who have been stolen from and who you ignore or argue with when they speak out.

It is declaring, "You are wrong about your own culture, and the harm done to you is not real."

This is what this debate is truly about. It is not petty drama, it is not about "winning", it is not even really about syscourse. What it is about is being spoken over, having the damage of racism downplayed, being insulted and having your intentions called into question, it is about white people deciding whether you're the "right kind" of minority or not to speak on these topics while they get to say whatever they want. It is all these much larger issues that this discourse has brought into the spotlight, it is not just about the word "Tulpa".

While the term Tulpa is very much appropriative and should change, it is also an incredibly large issue that the word is being made out to be the sole problem in this discourse. It isn't, and never was, the only problem.

Long post, but I had a lot of words.

[spidey-bie]

Ansi & Hobie

–Part 2

Here we go again. Y'all are so irritating.

(Actually loves them both with her whole heart)

I'm not going to @ them again but these questions are by @/the-cat-and-the-birdie

Meeting:

How did they meet Hobie? What was their first meeting like?

A long time ago when Ansi was a wee lass her father accidentally opened a portal to a neighboring dimension and low and behold a young boy. It wasn't the greatest first meeting (lots of tears from both sides). But over time it got better. They were together for 2 years before Hobie went back to his world.

Did they like each other right away?

Nope. Ansi thought Hobie was weird. Hobie thought Ansi was stuck up. (Little did they know they were both autistic.)

What was their first impression of each other?

Refer back to the previous question.

Romance:

Why am I answering this section when I've already established that they're not in a romantic relationship. For fun 🤭. I'm gonna answer the sex one too. Let's irritate some allos today.

Are they 'together', committed, in a relationship, etc? Or label-less?

They're in a committed QPR.

Do they say I love you? (Or something else)

I don't know actually. I know they say they adore one another but it's not....like if asked they'll say they respect or admire the other but idk if they ever claim to love one another in public or in private.

Do they kiss? In public or private?

Yes. Everywhere but the lips. Honestly it's almost entirely on the hands. The hands thing started out with Ansi ironically kissing Hobie's hand. (It's not ironic anymore.) Lips are too much of a romantic thing for both of them.

Are they more likely to steal kisses, or make-out?

Neither. It's funny though because Ansi will run up and scale Hobie to give him a forehead kiss whenever he so desires.

What are their love languages?

Ansi's is quality time and physical touch.

Hobie's is physical touch and acts of service.

Emotional vulnerability should be a love language too but oh well.

Are they monogamous or polyamorous?

Ansi you ha- *giggle* I'm sorry but do y- *pffft* just answer the question Ansi. I can't.

Its not even that funny but, whatever. I barely have mental stability to manage one relationship in my life. You think I could handle more? IDC what Hobie does tho.

If they're poly - Do they have other partners

Thinking about marriage, or no?

Ansi laughed.

Kids, or no?

Ladies and gentlemen, enbys and everything outside and in between, Ansi is on the floor. She is not breathing. He's cracking up so badly that the air has left his lungs. And oh look, what do we have here? In a crazy turn of events seems Hobie has joined her. It looks like they're engaging in what the kids call, "Rolling on the floor laughing their butts off." Wow. What a show folks. They're definitely both gonna feel that later tonight.

Do other people know about their situation?

Close friends only. Everyone else can ask questions but they aren't gonna get answers.

Favorite date spot?

They don't call them dates. But they do chill out on Hobie's boat or Ansi's Aunt's house most of the time. If they're going out they're most likely going to the library or a record shop.

Who liked who first?

Hobie. Definitely Hobie. Ansi was like oh yeah he's cool but feelings didn't grow until they reunited again.

Who made the first move?

Ansi. Immediately realized their feelings and went, hey I kinda wanna have a deeper emotional relationship with you because you're really cool and I adore you.

Hobie could only nod because he was in shock.

Do they consider each other soulmates?

And further support amatonormativity and the idea that everyone must be connected to someone in some way in order to gain true happiness? I think not and also,

*Queue Ansi giving a whole spiel on amatonormativity and how it negatively affects society*

Your OC and Hobie are obviously on a date somewhere - someone begins aggressively flirting with him, and being rude to your OC - what do they do?

Ah yes let's piss off the pyromaniac. Jokes aside he'd be upset over the unplanned interruption. He'll just pick Hobie up and move the both of them somewhere else. However if that "unplanned interruption" tries to follow them that's when she starts to get really irritated. Now he's gonna act absolute fool.

A: "Bart the baby. I THINK THE BABY'S COMING."

Cue lamaze breathing

Unplanned Interruption: It seems like you're busy so imma just go.

After the person walks away he'll either claim it was a false labor or they book it outta there.

She's done this, a fake engagement, pretended to faint, pretended to almost throw up, etc. Once she did a whole scene from her favorite telenovela where he accused the guy flirting with Hobie of being his long lost cousin. (They were in Ansi's world.) He's a con artist. He does stuff like this everyday.

(A/N: This is so much fun to do. I come up with lore while writing these answers it's really nice.)

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[randomvarious]

Today's compilation:

What Else Do You Do? (A Compilation of Quiet Music) 1990 Folk-Rock / Folk / Acoustic Rock / Lo-Fi / Outsider / Avant-Folk / Americana / Folk-Punk / Art Rock

Here's something fun from a sizeable movement and era that I've never really taken the time to dive all that much into before: that mid-80s-to-mid-90s Bohemian-open-mic-at-a-coffeehouse-or-independent-bookstore folk revivalist type of stuff. Lighthearted, tender, childlike, vulnerable, silly, intimate, acoustic, imperfect, eccentric, DiY, goofy, charming, absurd, and sometimes sloppy music. There was a pretty big underground subculture of this stuff that I feel like lived on self-produced and self-released cassette tapes that soft-spoken and idiosyncratic starving artist weirdos would take to their local shops or try to panhandle on arts district street corners and at shows. Of course, I'm basically describing the outsider king himself, Daniel Johnston, to a T here, but he wasn't the only one who was responsible for creating this beautifully strange type of fare, although his iconic talking frog drawing could certainly serve as its emblem, whose simplicity is akin to this album's own artwork.

And while Daniel Johnston, a native of Austin, makes an appearance on this comp, this release appears to actually be pretty New York-centric. And maybe this is just me, but I feel like when we generally reflect on this mid-80s to mid-90s era of New York, what we're usually thinking about is the hustle and bustle of that big city: loud, blaring, electronically-made dance beats, or the raucous rock of haunts like CBGBs, or some cerebral and gritty rap tunes; not so much this stripped-down folkiness that happens to make up most of this album here.

But it seems like this vein of artistry has been a part of New York in some form or another for a very long time anyway; it's just that pieces of it have been way more prominent and historicized, like the Beatniks of the 50s, or the folkies of the 60s. Really, this album could just be considered a darling, little early 90s snapshot of some of that ever-shifting Downtown continuum, I guess.

So, in addition to Daniel Johnston, within this odd collection you'll find some of his own contemporaries too, like Beck's former roommate, Paleface, who kicks us off with a tongue-in-cheek piece of nihilistically violent folk-punk in "Burn and Rob." Then there's the iconic counterculturalist and co-founder of legendary satirical rock band The Fugs, Tuli Kupferberg, who delivers the song with probably the richest and fullest sound of this entire set with "I Was Much Mistaken."

But where this comp really seems to truly shine is with its absolute nobodies who somehow managed to make it on here in the first place; it's like they've sauntered into an open mic and have stolen the whole dang show, which is what the spirit of this movement has always seemed to reflect: open-armed and open-minded egalitarianism. Some random cat could just come in off the street, play something great, and then never show up again, which, in a way, reads sort of like a folktale in and of itself, doesn't it?

And this album seems to capture a bunch of those types, like David Keener and the Hat Brothers, both of whose only ever released song is accorded to this album. They both deliver some pretty excellent pieces of acoustic folk in "Tip of the Iceberg" and "Dark as a Dungeon," respectively.

So, this is a very good and slightly weird early 90s folky comp from a scene and era that I haven't really ever given that much thought to. From New York's Shimmy Disc label, which was run by mononymous and iconic New York oddball Kramer, who was in The Fugs with the aforementioned Tuli Kupferberg, and was a member of, and also produced, a bunch of other off-beat acts as well to keep a lot of this avant-and-indie stuff thriving. Cool, creative, and non-commercial art that serves as something of a light, under-the-radar counterweight to some of the Big Apple's more striving, maximalist, and brash tendencies.

Highlights:

Paleface - "Burn and Rob" Dogbowl - "Rosemary in Red" Daniel Johnston - "1989 Blues" David Keener - "Tip of the Iceberg" Tuli Kupferberg - "I Was Much Mistaken" Azalia Snail - "Dual Control" King Missile - "Life" Hat Brothers - "Dark as a Dungeon"

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 7th June

It's a tough job following Elvis, but the song we've got today is legendary, so if any song's going to be able to do it, it's this one! We're also firmly into rock and roll, with one rocker replacing another, which is kind of cool to see!

The Saints Rock and Roll - Bill Haley and His Comets (peaked at Number 5)

Don't let the title fool you, this song is a reskinned version of Oh When the Saints Go Marching In, which, for the uninitiated, is a Christian gospel hymn that's become a jazz standard, all about looking forward to the end of times, when the saints go marchin' in. Dating back to at least the early 1900s and first recorded in 1923, it's been done by just about everybody in the world of jazz, but most famously Louis Armstrong in 1938. So this is a really well known song.

Still, this feels like a fresh take on it, adding a sort of rock and roll sensibility that sets this version apart, but also connects it to rock and roll's jazz forebears, establshing that yes, these are part of the same tradition. You can do a rock and roll version of a jazz standard - in fact, it's not only possible, it's a good fit. You see it from the start, as Bill adds in lyrics about rock n' rollin' 'til the end and a proper saxophone, which I'm beginning to realise is the rock and roll instrument par exellence at this point. That and electric guitar, I guess? If you could pick a single sound as "most rock and roll" at this point you couldn't do much better than a sax and guitar solo, with guitar taking over from the sax midway through. Heck, I think this song has one exactly like that.

That said, my favourite solo break is the one at the end when you just get double bass and drums. It feels like a proper link back to jazz, with these instruments that have carried across and are used for both genres of music. This is rock and roll going back to its jazz roots, in a way that really respects and honours both styles.

And the lyrics really emphasise this link between the styles of music, above and beyond any real concern with getting to the afterlife and being among the godly folks in heaven. Sure, you've got lyrics about when the saints go marchin' in, but mostly Bill spends the back half of the song making heaven sound like a rock and roll gig, dreaming of when that guitar comes wailin' in, then when Rudy begins to blow, when that sax man starts wailin' in, when that rhythm comes wailin' in and finally when old Rapper starts to wail. Which, now I look at it, is a whole lotta wailing.

I'd also be remiss not to mention the sort of meta almost-arrogance of the line where Bill sings about wanting to be in heaven when the band plays rock 'n roll / Well, when the Comets rock 'n roll. It takes a certain swagger and confidence to put yourself in that picture, but I admire it, you know? That's what rock and roll feels like it's about, honestly, at this point, the sort of performative claim that rock and roll as a phenomenon is just something else, something special and fun enough that yeah, of course everyone in heaven's gonna be jamming to it! I can't imagine any artist prior to maybe 1955 making claims like this, you know?

The song was also apparently featured in a 1956 film, called Rock, Pretty Baby, as part of the soundtrack. The summary sounds like the most 1950s thing ever, all about a boy in a band whose dad wants him to be a lawyer. He goes to a wild party, breaks stuff, and enters a battle of the bands to get to money to pay it back, and thus earns his dad's respect. It's such a classic teen movie plot - a new type of movie, for a demographic that's only just finding its own identity at this point. We're right at the start of "teenagerhood" as a concept, and as such, of course they had to have rock and roll. What else could get that sense of youthful exuberance and rebellion, you know?

Yeah, this is good fun. Again, we've got the "solid song, decent cover" effect going on. It diverges a bit from the original song, adding a bunch of extra stuff, but it's all very on-brand, and honestly, I like to think that 1950s me would have been bopping away to this.

Favourite song of the jazzy, rockin', somewhat self-aggrandizing bunch: The Saints Rock and Roll

[project1939]

100+ Films of 1952

Now I’ve made it to 120 films, which was my original estimate... but I keep discovering more things to watch! Hollywood was regularly cranking out around 400 movies a year at its height in the late 1940s, so there is no shortage of candidates. Most are not especially remembered today, which means they are easily found online for free. So... I think the new number will be 150 films. Crazy? Absolutely! But a highly interesting experiment, nonetheless.  

Film number 121: Anything Can Happen  

Release date: April 3rd, 1952 

Studio: Paramount 

Genre: comedy/drama

Director: George Seaton 

Producer: William Perlberg 

Actors: Jose Ferrer, Kim Hunter, Kurt Kaszner 

Plot Summary: Giorgi arrives in the United States as an immigrant from Georgia, overcoming the hurdles of learning English and settling into a new country. Thankfully he has lots of help from fellow Georgian immigrants and a young American stenographer who records traditional folk music in her spare time. 

My Rating (out of five stars): ***½  

I really enjoyed this, even if it isn’t a perfect film. It was so cool to get to see Eastern European immigrants as the protagonists in a film from this era. (Some spoilers)

The Good: 

Jose Ferrer. He was Puerto Rican in real life, but he played an Eastern European surprisingly well. I’d need a Georgian to tell me if his accent is truly on point, but it certainly worked for me. He was extremely likeable and moving in the role, and it was especially interesting to see how incredibly different his performance here was to his Toulouse Lautrec in Moulin Rouge. 

Kim Hunter. I loved her! She was perfect as a sort of intellectual leading lady, and her whole presence was warm and empathetic.  

The heroine was a folk music collector! She found and recorded traditional songs performed by authentic singers, and I wanted to jump through the screen and be her friend! Interestingly, The Anthology of American Folk Music was released in 1952- it was a mammoth collection of field recordings of traditional folk music, and it became the basis of the folk revival movement in the 1950s and 60s... 

I was excited to learn that this was based on a book written by Giorgi Papashvily himself about his experiences immigrating from Georgia and marrying his wife, Helen. 

It was nice to get a positive portrayal of Eastern European immigration to the U.S., especially given that Georgia was part of the Soviet Union at the time. The characters were treated with empathy and respect, reminding Americans that almost all of us were immigrants once. 

Most of the other Georgian side characters were colorful and entertaining, although sometimes their cutesiness was a tad too exaggerated. 

The little bits of folk music throughout. Ferrer was wonderful to listen to. 

The hilariously true problems of English spelling and pronunciation! A longer segment had characters arguing about the pronunciation of “dough.” One guy convinced another it was “duff,” because that’s how “rough,” “tough,” and “enough” are pronounced! 

The Bad: 

Hunter and Ferrer didn’t have a ton of chemistry, unfortunately. I liked them both a lot, but there wasn’t any sexual tension. (That was supposed to be the case for Helen and Giorgi within the film, so maybe it was a specific direction? I don’t know.) 

Another Hollywood warning to young women about the horrors of becoming an old maid! “You become like furniture!” The way Helen’s grandmother pushed her to marry Giorgi, even if she didn’t feel any sparks, was upsetting. “You can get chills down your spine from a cold shower. Fred gave you that, and it was the two coldest years you’ve ever known! He didn’t need you, and that’s the only basis for a marriage- to be needed and wanted.”  

Sometimes the film was too sentimental and light-hearted. It definitely only showed the positive aspects of immigrating. 

The plot got overly episodic at times as well, jumping from one adventure to another. 

More blacklisting again! Kim Hunter was blacklisted in Hollywood after this film until the late 1950s for the “crime” of being a progressive Democrat.  

[paullovescomics]

The Case of the Dubious Bridegroom, by Erle Stanley GardnerThis is one of the Perry Mason novels, the 33rd (of 82!) in the series. I'd read a few books in another series by Gardner, but none in this one. Apparently Gardner got his start in the pulps, which would help to explain his insane productivity. This novel has a lot of the elements familiar in pulp detective, gumshoe, film noir, hardboiled, whatever-term-you-like genre: a tough hero, sexy dames, corrupt business folk, etc. Mason and his sidekicks, an able private detective, and Mason's secretary, who seems like she's supposed to be impressive, but all she does here is take notes and make a couple of observations from a "woman's point of view" (mostly clues related to fashion that the guys wouldn't notice). They try to figure out the tangled mess surrounding an accidental bigamist, his not-really-ex wife, and a scam involving proxies in a shady mining corporation. The book does all of that well, although it's very tame compared to what's in the most recent TV adaptation of this series (which can get extreme, to be fair), and was pretty tame back in its day. This series was very popular (adapted into an earlier black-and-white TV series, and movies and radio dramas before that), so it keeps things palatable for a mid-twentieth century mainstream audience. It's also entirely plot-driven. Mason's motivations for taking the case and working so hard on it are taken for granted. He and his allies exist solely for their jobs, no hints of lives beyond that. But maybe that stuff was established in the first 32 books?

One thing that seems a bit out of sync for the time these books came out is how poorly they depict the police and the district attorneys. On the one hand this feels like a pretty conservative take on the hardboiled thing, but it's also got the cops trying to pin the murder on the most convenient target, coaxing witnesses into "remembering" things in a way that supports their case, etc. All the stuff that's considered wildly liberal by many people today. Of course, part of that could simply be because Mason is a defense attorney. And the people he's defending may have poor ethics, but they're also respectable white people. Still, it feels weird that this book that was a big hit in my grandpa's day is mildly woke (regarding that one topic). Things change, I guess.

Gardner used pseudonyms for the more interesting stuff. One those was the Cool and Lam series, which is the one I've read a bit of. It's also not remotely racy by today's standards, but the characters are flawed, and more developed. The hero of those, a private detective named Donald Lam, is a short guy who gets beat up all the time, and his boss, Bertha Cool, is a money-grubbing opportunist. Whereas Mason is practically a Mary Sue. He's a famous lawyer who never loses, he doesn't seem to have any weaknesses, and the only people who don't like him are the cops and DAs who are so darn mad at him for making them look bad when they try to put away the wrong guy. I have one more of these Perry Mason books on my shelf, which I'll read because this one was fun, but unless it's significantly more interesting, I think I'll stick to the Cool and Lam series after that. (Those were written as A.A. Fair, although the more recent reprints attribute them to Gardner on the cover.)

[lameboysp]

Occult Case Files: File One

A few months back we released a demo for a game I’ve wanted to do for a while: Occult Case Files. What started as a simple mock-up went on to become one of our most successful games!

This was done specifically with games like Uninvited, Shadowgate and Deja-Vu in mind. I really enjoyed the style of those games, along with the horror elements found in Uninvited! Although nowadays it isn’t really all that scary, I’m sure for it’s time it was as scary as it could get though. With that in mind I sought out to make a similar styled game that actually IS scary. Overall, I set out to see how far I can get in development over a span of 2 months. I’ve really been trying my best to scope properly and manage time wisely. After a few years of doing this, I’m starting to feel more and more confident with these things. Yet... I still need more work on them haha.

Accessibility 

From the mock up to the final build, a lot of things were moved, changed, removed, etc. I think this UI layout is properly fitted and wont have to be adjusted anymore in the long run. Although with that said, accessibility was and is something I’m always willing to fine-tune. 

One major complaint I received overall was the constant changing of the selectable actions. Folks didn’t like having to select an option, go back up to the main screen, then going back down to select another option. So to combat that, I had it so hitting “Select”(Shift) would bring the selection you made back up. When that wasn’t enough, I made it so hitting it again would cycle through the options. When THAT wasn’t enough I made it so hitting CTRL would cycle backwards. And when THAT wasn’t enough, I had it so hitting the numpad will bring up the respective action as well. I may sound pessimistic about the above, but overall if it makes the experience for someone that much more manageable then I’m all for it. I get it, some of the design choices back then compared to now are a little archaic and there’s no reason not to improve upon them now. I think the only thing I can do to make it even more accessible is to have the mouse itself be able to act as the cursor as well. I’m kind leaning towards not implementing that though, unless of course there’s a big demand for it.

One thing I really loved about developing this is art didn’t take me too long! The frame in the top right is 116x117. Smaller than the Game Boy’s resolution, but still enough room to work with. I’ve seen folks say I should make that part bigger (One guy suggested I ditch the entire UI and make the screen just that frame) but in the end that just increases my workload and its something I’m dead set on. The size of that part of the screen will remain as is.

What’s Next 

I was not expecting the reception this game got. It seems like folks really dig it for what it is and want more of it. It was something that came from a love of retro games, Japanese horror and an excuse to make some creepy art with a larger palette (Getting kinda tired of just using 4 colors hehe) and I’m glad folks are behind it. I was going to use the demo to gauge how folks felt about it, and depending on that figuring out whether I should put it on the backburner or give it priority over other projects. There’s so many games I want to make, and such little time. But thanks to the positivity folks have expressed over the project, it’s been bumped up on my list. I have an plan for story beats, locations and scares all in mind. I’m in the process of gathering it all up and writing it down so that when the time comes to ramp development back up, I’ll have everything laid out and read to work and expand upon. To give a brief idea of what to expect, the game will take place over a week. As a student, you’ll attend school, talk to classmates and folks around your community as well as explore your neighborhood and a number of locations surrounding that. From local shops to shrines in the woods, I hope I can really give life to these locations and give folks something cool to explore.

Once The Third Shift is wrapped up, Occult Case Files will be up next. It won’t take as long as TTS has, so hopefully it’ll be following it up shortly after. I’ll be sure to post progress here when the time comes, and I hope you all look forward to it. If you’d like to try the demo, you can find it on itch here: https://teebowah-games.itch.io/occult-case-files I’d love to hear what you think! Is this game something you’d be interested in seeing us finish? Let us know! In the meantime, please take a look at this marvelous cover art that our friend @sombrepainter painted for the game. They did a phenomenal job with it and it’s safe to say this project wouldn’t be the way it is without their contribution.

 Thanks for reading!

[thebigpalooka]

I finished Sonic Frontiers!

Copying my Twitter thoughts over here because I had a lot of thoughts!

This is gonna be a sort of general review, gameplay and experience type stuff. No spoilers (gonna make other posts for that), although I do mention the names of locations and minor combat stuff so if you’re trying to be TOTALLY without info going in, I’ll put things under a read more anyways, here we go:

My overall sensation emerging from credit roll was that, when it comes to the gameplay itself, almost every specific critique I read was fair, but the game is fun in spite of all of them, and occasionally it's SO great that it kind of resets the I-ain't-putting-up-with-this-shit meter to zero.

I struggled with the controls quite a bit but it felt like a skill issue to me, lol. As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve never actually played any 3D Sonic games, only watched playthroughs, so this was my very first time. I didn't notice any of the glitchy behavior others reported (like falling through the map etc) and was usually too task-focused to be bothered by the pop-in, EXCEPT on Chaos Island where it's legit hard to see what's going on due to the 2D camera lock, which was my least favourite part of the gameplay by far.

Ares Island definitely felt like the high point in pretty much every respect.  Shark Guardian was FUN AS HELL, as one example, and Ares Island also has the absolute best, coolest, dumbest, most fun Titan fight in the game.

I saw a lot of folks talking about pacing issues towards the end, which ... I didn't have a problem with like, the rate at which things occur, but there's def a bizarre halt of natural momentum at the end of Rhea Island, and I really felt like the order of the last two islands should've been swapped.

Without spoiling details, the plot point which happens at the end of Rhea Island should've happened at the end of Ouranos Island, and either you proceed right to the final boss fight OR proceed to Rhea Island at that point. But yeah, feels like the game is building a sense of urgency and then just... changes its mind lol.

Anyway.  Having said all that, the dialogue and character interactions are definitely a highlight and while I don't think you'd HAVE to be a Sonic fan to like the game, I can easily see losing patience if you're not.  The story itself never felt in-question, and there's basically zero surprises but that's ... not a bad thing? Not for me, anyway. I got exactly what I expected and am satisfied. And the music is A+++ without exception. So yeah, in a way, it feels like the game's themes of growth and improving yourself are hugely fitting for the game itself as a whole. It’s got a lot of rough edges but a huge amount of potential.  Really feels like the same experience I had with the Sonic movies, where I really loved the first one in spite of it being obviously imperfect and missing some cool opportunities. My hope is that we get to see the same arc, another game that builds on what was established here and is sort of more confident about what it wants to be.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 10 second part

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Meta)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Unclean Realm

Lan Wangji has a Louis Henry Sullivan moment on seeing the Nie family home, becoming enraptured by its overwrought monumental architecture after a lifetime of restrained good taste and single-story buildings.

He approaches the fortress with the expression of delighted wonder that he usually reserves for when he’s looking at the moon or at Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian is like, yep that’s a building, all right, but he supports Lan Wangji’s kinks.  

Meng Yao tells them about the Wen Clan directive, and has what appears to be a moment of genuine, affectionate amusement at Nie Huaisang’s reaction.

Jiang Cheng kinda blames the Lans for inventing the whole “indoctrination” thing and for encouraging his brother’s disaster bi tendencies. Wei Wuxian responds by complimenting the Lan Clan, almost like someone who met his true love got some real value out of the instruction he received there.  

(more after the cut)

One of the great ironies of this story is that Wei Wuxian sort of becomes a rogue Lan disciple because of his relationship with Lan Wangji. He relies on Lan temperament techniques, uses music as a primary cultivation method, has committed all of the Lan rules to his supposedly terrible memory and cites them on multiple occasions, and is an important mentor for the younger generation Lan disciples. Because Hanguang-Jun is just that good in bed.

Xue Yang in the background of this conversation is channeling OP’s church-enduring, school-enduring inner 10-year-old.

Nie Mingjue, Chifeng-Zun, appears, and couldn’t be more different than his brother. On first watching this episode, I saw him as a grumpy, sexy, very emotional leather daddy man who is quick to anger. Rewatching, I see someone who’s struggling with a growing illness...the resentful energy kind.

Nie Mingjue’s handling of resentful energy is very different from Wei Wuxian’s straightforward interest and acceptance. NMJ has a traditional cultivator’s view of it, regarding it as evil and as something to resist, while he is literally carrying it on his back. He’s like a secret alcoholic who is preaching temperence, and can’t find a way to be reconciled with himself.  

At this point of the story, Nie Mingjue is keeping it together, but is under a hell of a lot of stress, and Baxia’s blood thirst is already maybe a problem.

The Yunmeng bros think that Nie Huaisang’s fear of his brother is hilarious, because they don’t understand the situation. They think he’s just living in a hideously toxic family dynamic like theirs, when actually he’s in a loving, sorta healthy, if parentless, family that is being crushed under a generational curse.

Compliments for the Yunmeng Bros

I’m not the first meta poster to notice how happy Jiang Cheng is to be praised by Nie Mingjue.

He never gets this at home. Jiang Yanli praises him, but in that watery “you tried your best” way that doesn’t really stick.  Nie Mingjue’s praise really means something, because he is a fearsome warrior and stern authority figure. And this is a double compliment, because Nie Mingjue says he heard it from Lan Xichen, and agrees with it.

Let’s Make Terrible Decisions

Keep Xue Yang alive, says Wei Wuxian, and Meng Yao immediately agrees, although I’m pretty sure he would have proposed that even if WWX hadn’t.

So they do, not realizing that “kill him later” is never a good plan for someone who 1. super needs killing 2. has a whole lot of death-dealing skills.

Future clan leader Jiang Cheng notices how smart and talented Meng Yao is.  Xue Yang finds it hilarious when the trio praises Meng Yao, possibly because their evil team up is already underway.

Boss’ Bed Warmer Son of a Ho

The constant insults toward Meng Yao are about his mom, but there’s another level of leering implication, that Meng Yao seems to encourage in his conversation with the soon-to-be-murdered guard captain.

Nie Mingjue elevated him way above his expectations, and he is ridiculously pretty, which has to create rumors. In the Nightless City scenes when he’s fondling Baxia and telling Nie Mingjue’s family secrets there’s definitely a sense of intimacy that’s not just “loyal retainer.”

I feel like maybe this whole exchange is a bit of theater designed to show Xue Yang something without showing it to anyone else. Meng Yao didn’t need to have this conversation in front of his prisoner.

Let’s Do Exactly What We Said We Wouldn’t

Once the younger quartet are alone with Nie Mingjue, Wei Wuxian crosses the room away from his friends and practically into Lan Wangji’s pocket, if Lan Wangji had pockets.

He has no pockets and also has no personal bubble any more, when it comes to Wei Wuxian.

We could make a weapon out of Yin Iron, Wei Wuxian says, completely forgetting his entire conversation with Lan Yi, apparently. Lan Wangji doesn’t argue with this idea.

Nie Mingjue warns Wei Wuxian not to try it.

I stabbed a man in Qinghe just to watch him die

Nie Mingjue is like the Johnny Cash of the cultivation world, carrying the weight of his poor choices and trying to steer the young folk to the path of righteousness. But--like Johnny Cash--his bad choices have made him really fucking cool, so he isn’t very good at deterring anybody.

Meng Yao Didn’t Come Here to Make Friends

Immediately after Meng Yao’s fellow Nie clan people call him “son of a whore” again, Wei Wuxian meets him, is nice to him, addresses him by his military title, bows to him, asks why he’s away from the party, and thanks him for his service.

But Meng Yao has already decided to make friends with Xue Yang, so Wei Wuxian goes onto his list of people that he doesn’t give a crap about except if they can be useful to him.  Then Meng Yao goes to make out hatch a plot with Xue Yang.

I’ll Sleep On Your Roof

Meeting SongXiao seems to have done away with the last of Lan Wangji’s resistance to his connection with Wei Wuxian.

He hears a noise on the roof and, when realizing it’s Wei Wuxian, he smiles one of his tiny reserved smiles before heading outside.

When he sees Wei Wuxian drunkenly sprawled on the roof, limbs akimbo, wine on his chin and neck, mouth full of poetry about the open road, Lan Wangji gives him the most fond look imaginable.

Then he reluctantly leaves, with his signature “say goodbye, but only when he can’t hear you” thing.

They’ve both come a really long way since their first meeting. Wei Wuxian is openly and vocally attaching himself to Lan Wangji...but is not actually entering his space or asking for anything from him; he just wants to be near him, and wants to let him know that. “I’ll sleep on your roof tonight.”

And Lan Wangji just...loves him. Wei Wuxian is drunk, embarrassing, demonstrative, eager to make a hell weapon out of yin iron, touchy feely, and absurdly sexy. And Lan Wangji is pretty okay with all of that.

I Might Have Been Drunk

Wei Wuxian carefully avoids telling Jiang Cheng where he was last night.

Even if he did get blackout drunk, he would have woken up on Lan Wangji’s roof. And I don’t think he was as drunk as that. He just knows Jiang Cheng wouldn’t like the truth.

Wen Fucking Chao, Again

Wen Chao shows up to be annoying and boring.  This leads to a pretty good fight between Nie Mingjue and Wen Zhuliu. Note that when the chips are down, Nie Huaisang stands with his Gege without any cowering. Almost as if he had hidden reserves of bravery, and is not as helpless as he lets on.

Wen Zhuliu isn’t styled to be super hot, although he’s certainly compelling, and in Dance of the Phoenix he looks good with sensitive-guy hair wispies. I wonder what actor Feng Mingjing looks like out of character?

BRB, adding a tag to my follow list

Battle Bros

When the fighting breaks out, the Yunmeng brothers are decisive and united, with Wei Wuxian giving orders to Jiang Cheng and JC following without hesitation.

I feel like if these two could have gone through a few big battles together, instead of being separated during most of the Sunshot campaign, their whole relationship would have improved. On the battlefield, they respect, trust, and understand each other.  

The Pointy End

Nie Mingjue is holding his own against Wen Zhuliu, but he gets distracted by Meng Yao hollering “Xue Yang has escaped” and then shanking the guard captain right in front of him.

Wen Zhuliu takes advantage of the distraction to aim a very slow stab at Nie Huasang, and Meng Yao jumps in front to get stabbed on his behalf.

When the Yunmeng bros show up to help NMJ, Wen Zhuliu immeiately yanks Wen Chao back behind him and points his sword at Wei Wuxian. He absolutely sees these two as a serious threat.  Considering that eventually WWX is going to kill Wen Chao while JC kills Wen Zhuliu, this concern is not misplaced.

Wei Wuxian tells Wen Chao to stop being such a jerk, and Wen Chao menaces Wei Wuxian and gloats about the burning of cloud recesses. The burning, that is, of some part of cloud recesses that doesn’t include the library, the Jingshi, the main cultivation chamber, the rabbit warren, or Lan Qiren’s house, unless the Lan Clan is really really good at rebuilding things to very exact specifications.

In a rare moment of seeing Meng Yao’s internal thoughts, he is worried about Lan Xichen when he hears about cloud recesses.

The Yelling Part

Now we have the particularly nasty breakup between Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao. It’s...got some layers. Meng Yao is cowering on the floor, but is not apologizing.

He never apologizes throughout this encounter.

孟瑤無悔  - Meng Yao (has) no regrets

This scene is amazing and excruciating to watch, even more when you know what’s ahead.

What the Fuck is Meng Yao’s Plan

On one level this is Meng Yao, manipulative sociopath, setting up a cover story for his aiding and alliance with Xue Yang.  On another, this is Meng Yao, loving subordinate, being tossed aside by his lord because he dared to stand up for himself.

He uses the same “scout’s honor” gesture we’ve seen Wei Wuxian use to swear he’s telling the truth. Wei Wuxian is always lying when he uses this gesture.

I’m...not sure exactly what Meng Yao’s plan is, with all these chess moves? By stabbing the captain in front of NHS, he created an opportunity to plant a cover story about Xue Yang’s escape. He might be hoping that Nie Mingjue will forgive him and keep him on, while Xue Yang can stay in his back pocket to be used later.

Dry eyes? Try Visene

Or he might be intending to get kicked out, given his non-apology. In any case, Nie Mingjue is weeping during this encounter, and Meng Yao...isn’t. He is signaling distress in his voice, expression, and body language, but his eyes are dry up until the last moment, and even then they just glisten a bit. In a show where every actor is an expert at crying on cue, that’s got to be a deliberate choice.

Which isn’t to say that Meng Yao is faking being full of emotion in this scene. It’s just that the emotion isn’t necessarily sorrow.

What Does Nie Mingjue’s Head Think

Flip the view and this is about Nie Mingjue being betrayed by a subordinate, who has turned out to be a self-serving murderer. And on another level it’s Nie Mingjue being betrayed by his lover, who was just using him for advancement.

I rewatched the later episode where we get the scene as Nie Mingjue’s head perceived it, and he’s particularly brokenhearted and disillusioned from his head’s POV.  In that version there is a telling addition to the conversation.

Nie Mingjue asks about the guys who were roasting Meng Yao behind his back. He asks, if I hadn’t come, would you have murdered all of them?

Um. No, dude. Of course fucking not. That’s what a patriarchal authority does. That’s the way an angry Nie Mingjue/Baxia team might solve a problem.

Meng Yao has to use subterfuge to kill his enemies. And while he super hates being called “son of a whore” it’s absolutely not enough to make him kill someone, with the risk murder brings. Likewise, being treated well isn’t enough to make him spare someone. Nie Mingjue totally doesn’t get this, because he’s been the patriarch of this clan his entire adult life.

And Here’s the Actual Problem

There is a betrayal here, but Nie Mingjue is not simply a victim.  Whether it’s a sexual relationship or a non-sexual bond of affection, there can be nothing solid in Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao’s relationship within a feudal society, because it is fundamentally unequal. Even if they love each other deeply - which I’m not convinced either of them does - every encounter they have is tainted with power dynamics.

Meng Yao has been elevated by Nie Mingjue and quite probably taken into his bed, as well as being told many family secrets, but has not been given a new surname (like, for example, Wen Zhuliu was) or independent power. More importantly, Nie Mingjue has not used his authority to remove or punish the many people who disrespect his subordinate.  Lan Qiren would have had all of those gossipy fuckers kneeling in the snow, and Wen Ruohan would feed them to his mosh pit zombies.

Meng Yao is a murderous little snake, but he is right to be angry with Nie Mingjue about some things, and his pursuit of his own agenda is understandable.

Well, That Was a Slice

Meng Yao leaves, hurt, with a dignified bow; just as he did that one time when his dad kicked him down the Carp Tower steps.

Take note, both patriarchal authorities: that is his way of saying “I’m going to murder you one day.”

Nie Mingjue sits with his broken heart, as we realize that we’ve only spent 20 minutes with this guy and we’ve gone on an entire emotional journey with him. This episode packed in a LOT.

Soundtrack: Johnny Cash, Folsom Prison Blues

[serendipitystation]

Holding Hands - a Kanej fanfic

Read it here, too: AO3

Summary: Several times that Inej and Kaz hold hands and what follows. Slow-burn, oneshot.

Length: Short

A/N:  Writing for these two is difficult, but that's a testament to Leigh Bardugo's wonderfully complex writing more than anything. Cheers, friends :)

i.

The first time that Kaz and Inej hold hands, they stand together looking down at the ship that will take them far apart from one another. To Inej, it is a miracle, a blessing; to Kaz, it is a gift, a tool for good in hands cleaner than his own. They both understand how their paths are destined to diverge, but there is no peace needing to be made with this. Divergence calls to reunion as light calls to dark. Their souls have been in close quarters long enough that a few thousand miles won't shatter their bond. As they watch a boat unload its newcomers to the city, they feel a joy that only the knowledge of better days can create. The darkness will return, but not today. Today is for joy and reunions and the most shockingly pleasant smile that Inej has ever seen on the face of the lord of the crows. Her happiness knows no end. Any prick of pain in Kaz's soul is easily ignored.

ii.

The second time that Kaz and Inej hold hands, Jesper and Wylan are singing the absolute worst song either of them have ever heard. While Specht helps Inej hire a crew for her ship, she and her parents are staying at the Van Eck home at Wylan's insistence. In the moments during which she leaves her parents' sides, Inej watches Wylan graviate towards the warmth of her father's countenance and Jesper flirt in shameless jest with her mother (he backs off slightly when Inej threatens to revoke his skillet bread priviledges). Kaz is the lone statue in the waving grass- he is cordial and as friendly as he's ever been, which doesn't say much, but he keeps a slight distance. One night, after dinner has been devoured, Wylan picks out a folk tune and sings lightly, while Jesper accompanies him with the most off-key harmonies to be heard any side of Ketterdam. As Inej feels Kaz's discomfort like a fog seeping across the floor, she melts into the shadows of a hallway just slow enough for Kaz to catch on. Under the nearly-dark sky of the back garden, they sit on a bench and watch the stars wink to life. Inej gently eases the glove off Kaz's right hand, feeling him tense up and relax with a slow shudder as the glove comes free. As the discordant sounds of their friends float in the cool air, Inej traces the creases of Kaz's hands and Kaz wills himself to not react, to keep his head above water, to let desire overrule history. Each time they touch, he gets better at floating.

iii.

The third time that Kaz and Inej hold hands, Kaz watches Inej giving orders aboard her ship as they prepare for their maiden voyage. She takes to the role of captain like a fish in water, the surety in her actions a strength she will need as she meets the unyielding sea. If she seems green at all for a captain, her crew know better than to question her due to her reputation as the Wraith, if not for her knives. Kaz can see her in his mind's eye, acting as justice's henchwoman among the waves, a puzzle piece that fits perfectly into its surroundings and completes them. He respects her abilities as much as he loves her. Loves. Kaz's mind has used the word before, yet using it now feels like a revelation. If any god were to call out from the heavens and announce him a Grisha, it would be less discordant to Kaz's nature than love in any form. Still, Kaz knows better than to deny the truth. He loves Inej and, in a few days, he will watch her sail away. When Inej comes to stand beside him, a look of satisfaction on her face, Kaz shakily slips his hand into hers. As he does so, Kaz swears she begins to smile.

iv.

The fourth time that Kaz and Inej hold hands, they are saying goodbye. Kaz doesn't do goodbyes- sentimentality shows weakness and he's long vowed to never look weak again. For Inej, however, he makes an exception, at least in private. In the mist of the morning of the launch, he slips onboard the Wraith and down the bustling deck to the quarters below. When he walks into the captains' quarters, Inej doesn't turn her head- she knows he's there; she could hear his lopsided gait all the way down the hall outside. They trade pleasantries about the ship, the voyage, everything but the inevitable goodbye to be faced. It is Inej who breaks gracefully; as Kaz prepares to leave, she walks up to him until they are but inches apart, takes both his hands, and reassures him that she will return. She can see the ice of his eyes melt and lets him thaw. Inej has known that she loves him for some time- unlike Kaz, her trauma isn't rooted in betrayal and she never feared the vulnerability of caring. Her love is a candle that she chooses to let burn, even as she acknowledges that love and destiny are not one and the same. As Kaz bends towards Inej, his forehead touching hers as light as a feather, the candle's flame grows stronger.

vi.

The sixth time that Kaz and Inej hold hands, Kaz's fingers trace a scar on Inej's arm. They sit in Kaz's office in the Slat, where prying eyes can make no assumptions about anything. Inej spent five months at sea before returning to Ketterdam, a length of time that ticked by at a glacial pace on Kaz's end. After regaling Jesper and Wylan with tales of her exploits upon her return, Inej had stolen away to the quiet safety of the Slat where the company was quieter. As Inej answers Kaz's questions with the patience, she adjusts the buttons at her wrists, revealing a flash of ropy skin on one arm. With a frown that stretches into shadows, Kaz reaches out to gently slide up Inej's sleeve, bringing into light the full fresh scar that zigzags up her arm. Kaz's face settles into its familiar scheming expression as the red of rage clouds his vision. Only Inej's voice, the featherlight sweep of her finger across his creased brow, and the shiver that travels his limbs like lightning bring him back to reality. As he wills the anger to subside, he reviews what he knows to be true; Inej is capable, strong, and not needing to be saved. She's no longer his investment- she's here because she chose him. Why his ego is so unperturbed by it all, he doesn't really know. Until Inej speaks up, Kaz doesn't realize that he's smiling.

viii.

The eighth time that Kaz and Inej hold hands, the ghosts that frequent Kaz's room watch them. Night has long fallen over Ketterdam and the prospect of Inej embarking on her next voyage looms over Inej. Her desire for life has not changed, nor has her mission, though it hurts to leave. Tonight, Inej has lingered far past the setting of the sun in Kaz's company. Getting back to her ship would be no problem- captain or Wraith, she walks the streets free of fear- but she doesn't particularly want to leave. As Kaz removes his waistcoat in his bathroom, Inej lays back on his bed and watches him. Out of the corner of his eye, Kaz catches her gaze and sarcastically offers to share the bed. What he doesn't expect is for her to strip down to her vest and pants tuck herself in. When Kaz puts out the lights and slides into the bed that barely fits them both, there's a strange weight that settles in their chests. They stay apart, both unsure. Then Kaz slips his hands into Inej's and the weight lifts and it feels like the world has fallen into place. They watch the dim light of the city carve through the shadows on the ceiling and, as they fall asleep to each other's breathing, the ghosts take the night off.

xii.

The twelfth time that Kaz and Inej hold hands, their faces are grim in the coal-streaked dawn. The hour for casting off from the harbour approaches the Wraith too fast for anyone's liking, but especially for Kaz. Caring is a weary task and a luxury that shadows can't afford, even as his soul becomes more intertwined with the captain whose knives protect a heart he longs to hear beat next to his. In the light of day and surrounded by the waking city, Kaz looks the part of Dirtyhands, all sharp lines and sharper glances. Inej knows that the persona is just that- a front crafted with years of practice, however jaded and survivalist he has become. She can see his mortality in the tells only she knows- the set of his mouth, the crag of his brow, the care with which he watches the crew. She doesn't need to hide anything, not like he does, but no smile graces her lips all the same. When it comes time to cast off, Inej holds Kaz's palms in hers and takes a piece of his heart. Kaz wasn't sure he had one to give away. As he watches the Wraith disappear on the endless gray horizon, he feels the painful pull of it moving farther away. He'll never get used to the sensation.

xiii.

The thirteen time that Kaz and Inej hold hands, it's a bright afternoon. The sea air wends its way through the streets of Ketterdam close to the harbour, stray gulls slicing through the air of the nearby alleyways. Kaz doesn't pass the docks on his way across the city; he rarely needs to these days. With his shares in Fifth Harbour long gone and the sea busy only with the usual flurry of trading ships, there's no reason to visit. If he wishes he had cause to do so, he tells no one. Only Inej would know otherwise, were she present- secrets can't hide from her.

When Kaz makes it to the Slat, it's quiet, as most afternoons find it. The crew are out and about on their assignments, as they should be, even though a few stray folk keep the din of the house to a reasonable level. Kaz walks into his office, fully prepared for a day of reviewing the week's profits, but he knows that the day will prove eternally better the moment he walks in. He can feel Inej's presence before he sees her sitting behind his desk. Inej won't tell him that she bribed Anika to keep the news of her arrival away, nor does she need to mention that she took the rooftops to reach the Slat- he'll already have figured it out. He doesn't need to say he missed her- she can tell from his face and the way he comes around the desk and intertwines his fingers with hers, all while telling her to take her boots off his desk. Neither of them need to say anything. They both know they're where they belong- together.

[intrepid-scribblings]

Depths (Part 1)

Notes: Special thank you to that one Tumblr post about “What if the ocean was replaced by the forest where the trees get taller the deeper you go in” (source). [Insert Link to Eventual Masterlist Here]. [Insert link to a brief appendix here]

Warnings: Descriptions of blood and gore and violence typical of medieval warfare so if that’s not your deal you may want to sit this out.

Genres: Fantasy/Dark Fantasy

Summary: It blanketed the known world in a carpet of trees that grew ever taller the deeper you went in and forced what was left of humanity to fight for survival in a few remaining cities. Havenhold stands proudly as the central city of the four bastions of humanity that stand against The Forest.  However their tenuous position will not last. Rienn - newly promoted Lieutenant of the Havenhold Guard - and Archmage of Havenhold - Halim - must work together to uncover the mysteries of The Forest and stop its spread before it destroys them all. 

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

Part 1

The signs of battle were still clear even a week later. 

The preceding days had seen no meaningful rain to wash the blood from the ground and walls, no cool weather to stave off the heavy stench of decay that settled over the small farm like an invisible fog. Tiny bits of armor and broken weaponry lay strewn about, being picked over by the haggard-looking peasants who stared at Rienn with a mix of suspicion and envy. 

They dare not mess with the golden-haired warrior who wore plate armor emblazoned with the crest of the city they lived outside of, lest they face the wrath of the entire city guard. Word had gotten around that the guards rather respected their new lieutenant and would be quick to retaliate if anything were to happen to them.

A man in a leather jerkin leaned casually against one of the crumbling stone fences that surrounded the farm, a strange-looking spear leaned up against the fence next to him. As Rienn neared, they noticed the spear was actually a large quill, hewn roughly off at the base. He grinned as he noticed them staring, “You like it?” he asked gruffly, his words almost slurring together though he didn’t appear to be drunk, “Ripped ‘er off the hog’s corpse. Nice and sharp this is,” he placed a loving hand on the spear, “No creature’s going to bother me or my family.”

“It’s … not bad,” Rienn said and then nodded to the farm where most of the damage was, “Were you there? When the attack happened?”

He nodded solemnly, “It’s my brother’s farm,” he said, “May the Fates deem him worthy of Rebirth into a good life.”

He bowed his head and drew a circle from his forehead down to his chest with his left hand.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Rienn said.

He grunted, “Thanks m’lord… and yes I was here, that beast fought like it was possessed by a demon. It was as big as a bear...” 

Rienn raised an eyebrow, “What kind of bear?” they asked, crossing their arms. 

“A normal bear you’d find in the woods I suppose… but regular woods, not …” he looked over his shoulder at the forest beyond the farm, “Told him not to build so close to The Line…” 

He shook his head and scoffed, “As if there’s anywhere else to build.”

A light wind kicked up, doing little to dispel the heat of the summer day and only served to bring the sickly-sweet stench of decay over to where Rienn and the man were standing. They both barely batted an eye at the odor. Sweat trickled down Rienn’s forehead and they swiped at it before it could get into their eyes.

The man looked to Rienn, “So … what are you and your fancy guards going to do about this? Call it another ‘unfortunate risk’ of living out here?” 

“We’re increasing patrols,” Rienn said automatically as if reciting a written statement. Perhaps they were. 

The man certainly didn’t look convinced, “So you and your brutes can spy on us common folk? Keep us in line?”

“So we can keep you safe and creatures from that,” Rienn stared towards the trees beyond the farm, “Away.” 

The man glowered at Rienn and said, “You know what’d keep us safe? Letting us stay inside the city walls.” 

Rienn shrugged, “Not everyone can fit - we’d be overcrowded.”

They didn’t sound convinced or convincing. In the back of their mind, they had the image of the city towering over them on the small mountain it sat atop. Sure it wasn’t as large as the cities that used to dot the landscape but certainly, it could fit a few hundred more people inside its walls… 

“Right,” the man almost rolled his eyes, “You keep telling yourself that as you go back to your warm bed tonight behind the city walls, guard,” he pushed himself off the fence and grabbed the quill spear, “You really want to help us? Strengthen The Line… I may know little about magic but even I can tell that either it’s weakening or the Forest is strengthening. Neither is good for the future of us down here or your precious city up there.”

He walked away, leaving Rienn alone to stand among the carnage.

Rienn walked through the farm and took a look at the blood-soaked field and what was left of a giant carcass. Most of the meat had been cut away by the more hungry denizens of the villages that lay outside of the city walls. All that was left was a skeleton and its quill-laden skin hacked away from it. No one had any use for the leather and Rienn couldn’t tell if anyone else had the same idea the man had in taking a quill away as a spear.

They turned around and walked back towards the base of the mountain, through rather ramshackle-looking wooden shacks and some more substantial wattle and daub houses. As they neared the city, the buildings became more and more well built and maintained, stone houses began to appear. Then they reached the large, whitewashed stone walls of the city.

The gates were wide open, guards flanking each side of the massive gate, watching as people streamed in and out of the city with their wares. As Rienn stepped inside the gates and in the shade under the thick stone walls they felt a chill as the air temperature dropped several degrees. A wind seemed to be blowing past them and out into the hot summer air just beyond the wall. 

“Lieutenant!” a guard greeted Rienn as they passed by. Rienn nodded to the guard. 

“Ganther,” they said, “How goes your shift today? No trouble at the gate?”

He shook his head, “None so far. I didn’t know you were heading out of the city today.”

“Just taking a walk, wanted to see where the Captain and His Highness took down that forest hedgehog last week, barely anything left of that thing but bones and quills,” Rienn said. 

“We were lucky to make it through that fight with no losses,” Ganther harrumphed, “Still got several men out of commission for the next few weeks.” 

Rienn frowned, remembering the blood and the farmer’s brother, “No losses in our garrison,” they said, “But several of those villagers died before we could make it there.”

Ganther said with a shrug, “Shouldn’t have built so close to The Line.” 

“Perhaps…” Rienn said uncertainly, “Reminds me … I need to talk to Halim - Archmage Halim.” 

Ganther nodded, “Have a good day Lieutenant.”

-

Rienn found the archmage sitting atop one of the tallest towers that made up the wall surrounding the city. Looking rather bored with their posting, the guards up there didn’t seem to pay the stout and bespectacled young man much mind. Rather they scanned the fields and forests below the city with wary eyes. 

The city sat atop a small mountain, shielded in an alabaster wall, a white island above a sea of dark green forest. The forests surrounding the city were massive in both scope and scale, covering all the land as far as the eye could see. The trees in the forest grew progressively taller and taller as one walked further in, to the point that the tops of the tallest trees rivaled the height of the mountain the city sat on. 

Rienn knew in their childhood before the city had been built, they would come up to this mountain top and see the flat plains the towering trees now dominated. To go into the deepest depths of the forest now would be to walk into a dark world of giant horrors. They frowned at the sight and then turned their attention to the people on the tower.

The guards wore a uniform of sorts, a chainmail hauberk under a dark green and light blue tabard. Their nasal helms had cheek guards and a full aventail to protect their necks. Their stern and unyielding appearance was a stark contrast to the man who now leaned on one of the crenels, using it as a desk to hold his notebook as he sketched the scenes below. His loose and long dark hair framed his brown face and blew behind him in the light breeze. 

His leather-bound notebook was thick and well worn but his light blue robes were immaculate, well-tailored, and clean. 

The guards on the tower immediately stood to attention as they walked in, “Lieutenant.” 

They gave a curt nod to the guards before turning their attention to the man who had apparently not noticed the visitor, they cleared their throat loudly before saying, “Halim!”

The man started, turning around to see the lieutenant there with a stern expression on their face.

“Thought I’d find you up here,” they said, “Though you really shouldn’t be …” 

They gave a meaningful glance to the guards who suddenly became very busy with their interest in the landscape around them. Rienn had known Halim since he had stumbled into their city in the first years of construction. He had helped strengthen these walls, helped develop the sigils that warded off some of the more substantive threats that came from the Forests, and in the years that they had known each other they had become close.

“So who’d you bribe this time? Athred? Genneth?” 

“Neither,” the man said, “Though you wouldn’t need to worry about bribery if you paid your guards more,” he broke out into a grin, “But why’d I need to resort to bribery when my best friend is the lieutenant?” 

“Because said best friend told you that under no circumstances were you to be up here without my permission,” they crossed their arms, “Given what may happen to me if the archmage were to tumble off a parapet in an accident.”

The man rolled his eyes, “As if I’d be that foolish. King Oderan may think of me as an absent-minded academic but I do pay attention.” 

“Ri-ight,” the lieutenant didn’t seem very convinced as they leaned against the merlon, staring out over the forests that surrounded the city. Their forehead crinkled, their worry-lines standing out on their pale skin. 

“It’s been qu-,” Halim started to say.

“Shush,” the lieutenant said quickly, the guards within earshot shuffled nervously at their posts, “That word is forbidden.”

“Ohhhh, you can’t tell me that you believe in that old myth?” Halim argued, “As if saying q-,” he hesitated as the lieutenant fixed him with a withering stare, “Fine … ‘the q-word’ … summons trouble.” 

“Why tempt the fates?” 

“Fine, there’s been no sign of activity from the forests in several fortnights,” Halim said, looking back to the lands outside the city walls. The late afternoon sun cast an orange glow on the treetops, the sunset off to their left side in the west. 

The lieutenant nodded, “And we’d like to keep it that way. How has your research gone?” 

Halim looked annoyed, “Nothing of this makes sense - ever since the Eruption the forests and animals have been growing at a rate that challenges both contemporary scientific and magical theories!”

“While we’ve been pushed further and further into our last bastions,” Rienn scowled at the forest below, “Our patrols had to help a farm fight off a hedgehog the size of a bear last week.” 

“I thought you said things had been …” 

Rienn fixed him with a look.

“... non-noisy.”

“Compared to what we’ve dealt with in the past, that was only slightly out of the routine,” Rienn said, “But it’s becoming more and more routine as the seasons wear on… The villagers are worried about the state of The Line.” 

Halim scoffed, “As if they would know anything …” 

Rienn raised an eyebrow at their friend.

“... being untrained in the arcane arts like I am,” Halim continued, “I’m confident in the ability of The Line to hold - after all … I was the one who drew it, cast the proper anchoring spells, drew every single one of those runes that grace the perimeter. It will not fall and no one should have anything to fear from the Forest.”

A commotion at the front gate, which the tower overlooked, caught everyone’s attention. Rienn peered over the side, eyes locking onto the banner one of the knights held aloft. The image of a golden half sun emblazoned on the red fabric that fluttered in the wind. 

“They’re from Westhold,” Rienn said. 

Halim squinted, he was unable to make out many details in the dimming light but he recognized the garish red and gold robes from even way up on the tower and even more so, felt the immense power emanating from the individual. 

“They have a mage with them,” he said, “a powerful one at that.”

He wondered if it was the archmage, Inge, but that meant ... he hurried to the stairs, “Where has that scatterbrained assistant of mine gone off to?!” 

She was, in fact, waiting attentively at the bottom of the tower, fidgeting with a scroll in her hands. Her black hair was tied in a tight bun with not a stray lock out of place and she wore robes similar to Halim’s though less intricate in design. 

“Sir,” she handed him the scroll which he took and read over, eyes narrowing. 

“When was this sent?” 

“Early this morning, after you left,” she said. 

He stared at her, “And you didn’t come to tell me?” 

“You were at the top of the tower all day,” she said matter-of-factly, “... I wasn’t allowed up there.” 

Rienn couldn’t help but smirk at the indignant expression on Halim’s face, “By gods if you told them you were with me …” 

“You’re not supposed to be up there either?” 

“And you couldn’t have just handed the message to one of the guards?”

“The message clearly said that it was only for the eyes of the archmage and his associates, while I consider myself an associate - I do not consider the guards as such.”

The archmage sputtered, “We’ll talk about this later, just … take this as a lesson Zhen - you can bend the rules once in a while…” 

Zhen smiled ever so slightly as she said, “I know, I just would prefer not to.”

The archmage stalked away towards the castle where his study was, “Need to get ready to receive Inge … what type of tea did she prefer again? Did she even like tea? Or was it that bitter drink she liked?” 

Rienn followed closely behind, “Is there anything I should know?” 

“Know?” Halim looked at his friend with confusion.

Rienn looked at his scroll, “The missive you’ve received, is there anything I should know? If there’s any threat to our city the captain-”

“No, no,” Halim cut them off but immediately looked guilty at his rude answer, “Sorry, I … Inge is a powerful archmage, even more powerful than I. I’m just very concerned about making a good impression on her. There’s nothing in this letter that would concern the safety of the city, just theories on what caused the Eruption, King Oderan and the rest of the council are meeting with her tomorrow.”

“So why the secrecy?” Rienn raised an eyebrow. They neared the castle, the walls cast a long and dark shadow over them and the air chilled. 

Halim sighed, “People fear that which they do not understand, which can lead to some … messy situations. Magic is a complex field filled with theories that mortal minds were not meant to understand and only those blessed with the ability to study the arcane gift can even begin to scratch the surface of its inner complexities,” the archmage started to ramble.

Rienn crossed their arms, face betraying no emotion, “Above my station. Got it.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you were somehow lesser for not being a mage, I just … I,” Halim trailed off, trying desperately to find the right words to say as his face grew red in embarrassment. 

“Relax friend,” Rienn said with a laugh and patted him on the shoulder with a strong hand, “I am comfortable with my station. I don’t need to be an archmage or even a mage to be powerful,” they placed their hand casually on the hilt of the sword at their side, “Trust me.”

Rienn left to the barracks to help organize the perimeter patrols for that night while Halim ascended the steps to his study and residence. Zhen was already there, brewing a drink that smelled full and slightly nutty, Halim felt his mouth begin to water at the aroma that filled the room. His eyes lit up in recognition.

“Coffee! That’s what Inge prefers to drink! Coffee! Zhen, you are a lifesaver.”

“I know sir.”

-

Rienn ascended the battlement later that night, one last sweep of their solo patrol before they turned in for the night. The guards nodded at the lieutenant as they passed by. Rienn noted a lone figure on one of the walls, looking towards the west over the Forest. They cautiously approached, though the guards seemed to pay the figure no mind, Rienn was suspicious of anyone that wasn’t a guard hanging out on the battlements after dark. 

The clouds parted, revealing the full moon that illuminated the world in a milky white light. The gold embroidery in the figure’s red robes seemed to shimmer in the moon’s bright light. Inge, Archmage of Westhold was a fair-haired woman with fine features. She stood slightly taller than Rienn though her build was thinner, more lithe. Her pale skin almost glowed in the moonlight and her light brown - almost golden - eyes exuded warmth.

Rienn stepped beside Inge, staring at the same patch of forest the archmage of Westhold was staring at, “You shouldn’t be up here m’lady,” they said. 

“Your archmage said that you would be fine with it,” Inge raised an eyebrow at the lieutenant.

Rienn sighed, “Of course he did…” 

“I can leave,” Inge said, “If I’m not allowed up here.” 

Rienn said, “You can stay up here for a few more minutes,” they leaned against the wall, “As long as I’m here.” 

“Thank you …,” Inge trailed off.

“Lieutenant Rienn,” Rienn introduced themself, “Of the Havenhold Guard.” 

Inge smiled, “Well Lieutenant Rienn, you have a well-fortified city here, I shudder to think of the fate of any creature that would dare attack you.”

Rienn replied, “Havenhold itself hasn’t been attacked since the early days after the Eruption. A few smaller creatures have made it across The Line to attack the outlying villages.”

“Ah,” Inge smiled softly, “I’ve heard of your fabled magical defense against the Forest. Halim’s solution is quite famous amongst the mages.”

“The Line’s been holding the more dangerous creatures at bay … and we fortified the city well but haven’t had a real test of our physical defenses yet,” they felt at ease around this woman who radiated such power and confidence.

Inge nodded, “Well Lieutenant, I suppose I should take my leave now - early council meeting tomorrow.”

“Of course, Archmage,” Rienn bowed respectfully and then turned to a nearby guard, “You there, Grendar is it? Escort Archmage Inge back to her quarters.”

Inge waved off the guard, “Oh no need, I can find my way back just fine.” 

“M’lady I must insist,” Rienn said, “The walls can be rather treacherous to navigate in the dark.”

For a moment, Rienn could have sworn they saw a look of annoyance crossed Inge’s features but it was quickly replaced by a pleasant smile, “Of course Lieutenant. Grendar…” 

“M’lady,” the guard bowed respectfully before escorting the archmage off the wall. Rienn stared skyward for a moment before looking back over the Forest - leaves looking almost silver in the moonlight.

‘Mages, always stubborn as donkeys.’

-

The next day dawned still and hot, the sun shone weakly through a thick layer of haze as it rose above the horizon and cast an orange glow on the land. Rienn wiped the sweat from their brow as they took a few hearty swigs from their water skin. They hoped for a breeze or any kind of relief in the courtyard where they watched the recruits train but the air remained stubbornly calm. Idly they looked up to the tower where the king was meeting with the council and wondered if they could steal Halim for a moment and make him conjure a wind.

They smirked to themself, imagining the uproar that would cause, and banished the thought from their mind as they yelled at a pack of recruits to start another drill.

High above in the tower, the air was just as stifling - the windows had been opened to catch any whiff of a breeze but none came. Three large tables sat in the council room, forming a large “U”. At the center of the “U” was a map of the world, built into the floor. Servants with forked sticks stood at the edges of the room, ready to hand them to whoever at the council table needed them at the moment to move around the figurines that dotted the map. 

At the center of the map was the city, Havenhold, surrounded by the dark green that was the forest. Three lines radiated outward from Havenhold like spokes on a wheel, the safest routes for travelers to take, one line meandered its way northward towards the table at the bottom of the “U”, where the king lounged in a large chair, resting his chin on his right hand as he stared down at the map.

He was an aging man, with more silver in his hair than gold. His face was horrifically marred, four large scars etched their way diagonally across his left eye, down his nose, and through the right side of his mouth. Because of this scar, the right side of his mouth was permanently downturned into a pained scowl. His left eye, somehow having survived whatever attack left the grievous scar, stared out at the council table through a drooping eyelid.

He whispered something and the woman at his right stood up, she was dressed as regally as he was, her crown was silver instead of the gold one the king wore. 

“Both King Oderan and I, Queen Adelia, would like to welcome Archmage Inge of Westhold to this council meeting,” the woman said, her voice ringing out clear and loud over the room. She wore her authority like a cloak, chin held high as she spoke, her raven black hair was half up in several intricate braids that held back the loose portions of her hair. 

Inge bowed deeply to the couple, “Thank you, I am honored and humbled to be in the presence of such a great king and queen.” 

She continued, “For who was it that led humanity out of the dark after the Eruption? Who traveled to the heart of the event itself and brought back our only hope of countering this magic? It was you, King Oderan. We owe you a great debt.” 

Oderan looked rather flattered at her speech, Adelia’s eyes slightly narrowed but she said nothing. He spoke again and Adelia spoke for him. 

“You have a way with kind words as you do with magic Archmage,” Adelia said, “Now let us discuss the business which has brought us all here - the matter of The Forest. General Liu...” 

A middle-aged man with a long beard stood up.

“I hear you have a report for us?” “I do Your Highness,” the man said bowing respectfully to the king, “The scouting parties we’ve sent into the Forests have come back with troubling reports. Animals, larger than the ones we’ve fought before, are gathering closer and closer to the Line and our settlements. Prince Jaloc and Captain Aelder were on patrols a week ago when they came across a porcupine the size of a bear attacking a farmer near the Line. I fear that the creatures grow emboldened - something has them on the move.”

“‘Fear’ General?” a woman spoke up from across the tables - apparently not afraid to speak out of turn. She was younger looking than Liu, her brown hair was tied into a tight bun. Katerin’s most striking feature was her stormy blue-gray eyes that peered out from her tan and round face. She spoke slowly - as if she were still unsure of the language she was speaking - and her accent was almost as thick as the woodlands that surrounded them and forced her to move to Havenhold from the northern lands all those years ago.

The man looked momentarily annoyed, “Yes, Katerin, ‘fear’. Or do you not remember the last time Havenhold was attacked by the creatures of the Forest?” 

“I remember it very clearly,” Katerin said, “and I remember the defenses we put up to protect ourselves - defenses I designed and have full faith in that it will repel another attack.” 

Liu scoffed, “Hubris.”

“It’s better than sitting around in fear, General,” Katerin said. She and Liu obviously rarely saw eye-to-eye. As science advisor to the king, she and the general held equal positions of power in the council, and her aggressive attitude towards the Forest compared to the general’s more cautious approach saw them butting heads more than once. Adelia looked annoyed at the derailment of the general’s report but her husband sat quietly, watching the bickering continue with an unreadable expression on his face.

Liu scowled, “I don’t sit around in fear, m'lady. We’ve increased our patrols in the eastern sector,” he said, “I’ve also put forth a list of my best soldiers for an expedition.” 

A murmur went up in the council chambers. 

“An expedition?” Katerin raised an eyebrow.

“Archmage Halim and I have been talking,” Liu said. 

“A dangerous pastime,” a fiery-haired man chuckled from his seat at the end of the table. A few people laughed before Liu began to walk around the table to the map in the middle of the room. As he did so, he grabbed a stick from a waiting servant and used it to point towards a spot in the north-eastern half of the map where a large tree was depicted. 

“Another expedition to the Heart,” Liu said. 

Another murmur, louder this time, and people kept talking. 

“The Heart? What could we possibly gain?” “Suicide, absolute suicide.”

“Has General Liu gone mad?”

The King stared out at Liu, his brown eyes staring fiercely at the General as he whispered to his wife. Adelia repeated what he had said, “General Liu, whatever you think to find in the Heart better be worth the sacrifices that will need to be made. You remember the last time we ventured that far into the Forest, just after the Eruption… and you remember what we nearly lost - what we did lose in that expedition.”

Adelia fell quiet and the king reached out and squeezed her hand. 

“I remember it all too well, King Oderan, and I wouldn’t be asking to put forth this expedition if we didn’t have good reason to believe it will provide clues to the source of the Eruption. Perhaps even a way to reverse the effects,” Liu said, “Halim?” 

Halim stood up, “Your Highness, I was not there for your first expedition into the Forest but the tales have traveled far and wide of your triumphant gains and tragic losses. I can’t imagine what you and Queen Adelia have been through. However, Archmage Inge and I have been in correspondence for the past few months and have devised a way to potentially stop this … this curse from spreading across our land. I believe it may work.” 

Inge nodded, “He’s right, we can stop this if we send out a strong enough force and penetrate the Heart of the Forest. With our combined magics, it may be possible for us to seal the source away or even stop it entirely.” 

“And what is this source that you speak of?” Katerin asked. 

Inge and Halim looked at each other, “Well we’re not quite sure yet,” Halim admitted. 

“We’ll know it when we find it,” Inge said confidently. 

“And how many men will have to die before you do find it?” Adelia asked, “And what response may the Forest have to this transgression?” 

“‘Response’?” Inge repeated, “With all due respect Your Highness, it sounds as if you believe these creatures to be organized in some sense? Capable of fielding an army and launching counterattacks?” she scoffed. 

“You may jest Archmage but I know what I saw when I ventured into those cursed woods years ago,” Adelia spoke, her husband’s eyes glaring out at the Archmage as he whispered to the queen, “They may not have a kingdom you and I may recognize but there was something there, something sinister, and controlling.” 

He stood up with great difficulty, waving off his wife’s attempts to help him as he continued to whisper.

“I will consider your proposal for an expedition and let you know my decision by morn tomorrow. This council meeting is adjourned.”

With that he turned around and left through the door behind his chair, the queen following dutifully behind. 

As Halim left with Inge, he heard someone call out his name. Katerin stood just outside of the doorway, “Do you believe Halim? Or do you know?” 

The science advisor approached the archmage, “You said you believed your plan may work but how do you know? What proof have you?”

“Inge and I have come up with some theories,” Halim said. 

Katerin looked almost offended, “You didn’t consult with me about these theories, Halim,” she said. She was a fellow council member and also responsible with Halim for uncovering the secrets of the Forest. The fact that the Archmage hadn’t even thought about talking to her… 

“With all due respect Science Advisor, this is a matter of the arcane,” Halim said curtly, “Not to be explained by science.”

Katerin’s eyes narrowed, “You believe science can’t provide explanations for the arcane, that I have nothing to add to your theories?” 

Halim nodded, “Precisely. Science and magic are not of the same cloth, they are two separate fields. I don’t presume to invade your field and I expect the same courtesy from you Katerin.”

The scientist glared at Halim, one fist clenching and relaxing as she took a moment to collect her thoughts, “Archmage Halim,” she said calmly, “I respect your authority on the arcane. I also would like to posit that we are on the same side, despite the differences in our respective fields of study. We all want to stop the spread of the Forest, to be able to defend ourselves from the creatures that lie within, and provide safety for our future generations. I would appreciate in the future some more communication between you and me about our theories, as I have extended the same courtesy to you unless you haven’t been reading any of my missives.”

Halim made a mental note to check with Zhen on the missives he’d gotten from Katerin.

“Now I have to go and practice my field of study away from any … arcane influences,” Katerin’s voice dripped in sarcasm, “Good day to you and Archmage Inge.”

She turned around and stalked away through the still crowded hallway. The fiery-haired man from the council chambers, having seen the whole thing, coughed awkwardly to hide a laugh as he turned to study a particularly interesting banner that hung on the wall. 

 -

“Rienn!” the voice cut through the din on the training yard. Immediately some of the recruits stopped to look at who was approaching, a few broke out into grins.

The lieutenant turned to see an imposing woman in plate armor walking towards them, “Just the lieutenant I wanted to see!” 

Rienn immediately stood at attention, “Captain!” 

Captain Aelder was older than Rienn and stood about a head taller, she wore her long brown hair in a braid that looped around her head like a crown. She had broad shoulders and a broad smile that never seemed to leave her face - even in the din of the fiercest of battles. Her attitude never failed to encourage even the most demoralized of troops. 

“Come, Lieutenant, let’s take a walk,” Aelder said as she motioned for Rienn to follow, “I want to know how you’re doing with your first week of service.” 

They walked out of the training yard and into the main square of the city, the city walls didn’t afford much of a view of the sky but Rienn had better visibility than in the training yard. Clouds were building around them, “I don’t need to be Halim to know it’s going to storm tonight,” they said as they looked at the billowing cumulus.

“Aye,” Aelder agreed, “Hopefully it’ll provide us relief from this heat. But I didn’t ask for a walk to discuss the weather, I want to know how you’re doing.” 

“Fine, Captain,” Rienn said, “I’m doing fine.” 

Aelder didn’t look convinced, “You looked unsure about my decision to promote you to Lieutenant, do you still have doubts?” 

“No … well,” Rienn paused, “I mean, yes? I just … I don’t know what you saw in me, Captain. I’m now second in command of the garrison here.” 

Aelder smiled patiently, “I know you are,” she said, “I know you to be a great warrior - but I also know you have great leadership skills, Lieutenant, and in time - with proper tutelage - you can become an amazing captain.” 

She slowed her pace, stopping so she could look Rienn in the eye, her expression was solemn. Rienn looked at their captain with concern, they had seen Aelder with that serious of an expression outside of battle only a few times in their career, “Ma’am?”

“I’ve talked to General Liu, given my reports of the patrols along the Line,” she said, “You and I both know how drastically the situation has changed over the past weeks. More and more attacks from large creatures, the magic is leaking into the settlements at a rate we haven’t experienced since…”

“Since the Eruption,” Rienn said. They shuddered, remembering those first months as Havenhold - barely a village surrounded by wooden palisades - fought for survival as the Forest encroached and threatened to swallow them whole. Only Halim’s arrival and the return of the First Expedition were able to stop the Forest at the Line and help Havenhold become the city it was today. However from what Aelder was saying, if The Line wasn’t holding back the magic … did Halim know? And why were they only just hearing of it now?

Aelder nodded, “I can’t say much,” she said as she leaned close and lowered her voice so that only Rienn could hear, “but you may be called upon for a special assignment. And when that day comes, I need you to be ready for it.” 

Rienn raised both eyebrows, confused and surprised, “What do you mean?” 

“Keep your voice low,” Aelder said, “None of this is set in stone and I don’t want to risk giving anyone more hope than they should have. Rienn, I was asked to put forward the names of the best warriors under my command and you’re near the top of the list. General Liu and I need more than good warriors though, we need leaders, and people we can trust. In those categories, there’s only you.”

Rienn was quiet, they weren’t sure what they could say or wanted to say for that matter. They knew they were good but surely there were better fighters in the garrison. For their captain to say they were near the top of any list both flattered and frightened them at the same time. What could they say to that? Well, the only thing they were concerned with aside from the protection of Havenhold… 

“Captain,” Rienn said - eyes narrowed in determination, “I won’t let you down.” 

Aelder smiled at her Lieutenant, “I expected no less from you Lieutenant,” she said, “We’ll have much to go over but you must return to your duties with the garrison and I must meet with the general. Tomorrow morning I’ll call on you for more personalized training.” 

Rienn returned to the training courtyard, their mind filled with thoughts as they drilled the recruits. The rookie soldiers noticed their Lieutenant’s distraction and one or two tried to get away with being slightly lazier in their shield wall formation …

“Padun?” 

“Yes, Lieutenant?!”

“You do like your friend next to you, Jasim, correct?” 

“Yes, Lieutenant!” 

“You should lift that shield higher then. Come on! Square your stance! That’s it. Now your friend won’t get stabbed in the face by an enemy spear, there you go!” 

As they trained into the evening, a storm billowed up over the mountain and the first raindrops began to fall. A cold wind blew in from the west and darkness fell with the setting sun.

-

Halim barely got any sleep that night, between the sheets of rain and hail pounding on the roof, the blinding flashes of lightning blazing through his window, and the howling wind that caused the tower to sway ever so slightly. He felt a sense of dread in the pit of his stomach and he wasn’t quite sure what was causing it. 

‘For the sake of the Fates above,’ he thought as he finally got up in frustration to brew a cup of sleep tea, ‘I am a storm mage!’ 

This was his kind of weather. He should feel right at home!

Instead, he felt anxious. There was an energy in the air that wasn’t caused by the storm and he felt it on the very edge of his senses. It was as if someone were lurking in his periphery, just out of sight, and every time he tried to turn to catch the interloper - they’d quickly disappear.

Sighing as he sat down with his cup of steaming hot tea, he took a few deep breaths. He needed to calm down and focus, meditate, and then perhaps he’d figure out what was awry. As he closed his eyes and took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, he attuned his senses to his surroundings. The rain was coming down as heavy as ever, the occasional hailstone hit his study window with a loud smack, thunder cracked loudly overhead and he could see the bright flash of the lightning through his eyelids. The tower swayed as a gust of wind hit and beneath his feet, he could feel rhythmic vibrations as if a giant were walking nearby.

Wait.

What?

His eyes flew open and as he stood up to go to the door and alert … well everyone … someone sounded the warning horn from a perimeter tower. Even over the din of the storm, he could hear the drone of the horns as the alarm went up from each tower and eventually someone rang the alarm bell on top of the main keep. 

There was a huge crash, louder than any thunder in the storm, and the sounds of yells and screams. Halim rushed to the window and cursed, he couldn’t see a damn thing in this torrent! 

He heard the guards running outside the study door, their chainmail clinking noisily and echoing down the stone halls. The archmage ran to the door, opening it as a guard ran past, “What’s going on?!” 

“I don’t know! But those horns were from the western towers!” the man yelled, “Stay in your room!” 

Down the hall, he heard more guards shouting orders, “Protect the King and Queen! Where’s Prince Jaloc?!” 

Halim went back into his room, turning towards his desk where his staff sat propped up against the wall. As he turned, he saw something glow out of the corner of his eye. Not just something… 

It. 

He walked over to the thing that was shrouded in cloth and removed the covering, revealing a giant, umber acorn that sat atop a pedestal. It was shimmering a greenish hue that glowed brighter with each passing moment.

As Halim hovered his hand over the large seed, he smelled the musty scent of dead leaves, felt a cool, humid breeze on his cheek, and faintly heard the rustle of the wind passing through the canopy overhead. He blinked and he was back in his study, the feeling of an interloper just out of view was back.

“It calls to its Mother and Father.”

He spun around to see Inge standing at the doorway, an unreadable expression on the Archmage of Westhold’s face as she slowly walked into the room, “It calls to home.”

-

Rienn was on the southern wall when the attack happened. They were knocked flat along with the majority of the guards on the wall when the west wall was slammed into by a massive force. They shook off their disorientation as they stared blearily into the rain, lightning fractured the sky in a brilliant flash that illuminated two dark antlers towering over the western wall. They could just make out the top of the head of the stag before it dipped its head for another charge. 

They stood up quickly, breath fogging in the cold air as they started to scream orders, “Everyone! To arms!!! Keep your eyes peeled! We might be attacked on this wall as well!”

They began to sprint towards the western wall and from what they could make out in the downpour - it was still intact. As they approached the corner tower, they saw Captain Aelder being supported by a fellow soldier as she continued to shout out orders. 

“Captain!” 

Aelder turned to face Rienn, a pained grimace on her face, “Go back to the south wall Lieutenant! I’ve got it handled here!” 

“But-”

“Go!” 

Aelder waved Rienn off, she wasn’t allowing for any argument on her order, “Where are the ballistae?!” 

“Still loading another salvo!” 

“Load faster! We haven’t much time before that thing charges again!!” 

Rienn could faintly hear the sounds of gears turning as the four massive ballistae that protected the western wall were reset for another salvo. The engineer in charge of the ballistae turned to Aelder, “We can’t aim well in this rain and dark Captain, I’m not sure how effective this is going to be…” 

“Well,” Aelder said in a pained huff as she looked at the damage the deer had caused to the wall and the looming form in the darkness, “That thing’s about as big as the damn mountain we’re sitting on - can’t be that hard to miss.” 

Rienn made their way towards the gate on the south wall, below they could see the torch lights from the guards that were on patrol and dozens of villagers who were trying to get in. One of the soldiers was pounding on the portcullis like a madman, his panicked voice barely audible, “For the love of everything let us through!”

Rienn yelled, “Open the gate! Let them through!” 

“Are you sure?” one of the guards at the gate, Rienn recognized him as Ganther, asked, “The western wall is close to here…” 

Rienn raised an eyebrow, “And you think a massive deer is going to be able to even fit through the gate? Our soldiers are out there - as are the people we’re supposed to be protecting. I’m ordering you to open the gate.”

Ganther nodded, running to the winch to pull up the massive portcullis. As he did so, two more guards grabbed the gate doors and began to pull them open, boots slipping on the wet cobblestone and mud. One of the guards opening the gate had grabbed onto a segment of wood, the material seemed to morph under his hand and he started to scream as the gate came alive in his hands. The wood warped and twisted, engulfing and crushing his hand and arm, the door rooted into the ground as the wood had come back to life as a tree. 

The last thing he saw before the wood swallowed him whole was the horrified expression on Rienn’s face. All around Rienn, anyone who had wooden weapons was suddenly affected by the strange phenomenon. Spears shafts exploded into poles of thorny branches that impaled their user’s hands and arms. Bows warped into vines, strangling the archers that tried to shoot with them while their arrows grew into saplings that rooted their blue corpses into place.

Rienn quickly cast their wooden kite shield aside as it exploded into a ball of thorns, they needed to gain control of the situation but they weren’t quite sure how. They stood frozen in place as they saw humanoid shapes emerge from behind the terrified villagers who were still at the gate. The figures were taller and lankier than the average human, they glowed with an unnatural green energy and Rienn didn’t need the benefit of a mage’s education to know that these were likely responsible for whatever was happening to their gate. 

Said gate now was two massive oak trees, rooted firmly in the entrance courtyard, blood leaked out of crevices in the bark. 

The lieutenant heard someone ask them for an order and they couldn’t answer, they stood staring at the figures and the gory scene around them - transfixed, hand resting limply on the hilt of their sword. A particularly loud clap of thunder crashed overhead and they flinched as shards of stone fell around them. They blinked, confused.

‘Since when does thunder explode into stones?’

They looked up to see the top of the tower where Halim resided had blown completely away. The rain began to slacken and the full moon peeked out between ragged clouds. The shadow of a bird passed overhead, landing on the remnants of the tower before flying off. On the western wall, Captain Aelder - barely clinging to consciousness - watched as the deer staggered forward. It was bleeding profusely from the wounds the ballistae had caused. She knew, however, that it wasn’t the ballistae that stopped the deer. 

Everyone could hear its bones creaking and cracking as it slowly collapsed under its own weight. Whatever magic from the Forest had kept it alive through its attack had left it now as it encroached on the human’s territory. Both the deer and the Captain fell to the ground at the same time.

“Captain!” 

Rienn, meanwhile, sprinted through the halls of the castle and up the half demolished tower.

“Halim!!! Halim!!! Gods damn it all!! Answer me Halim!!!!”

Zhen staggered out of the rubble, dragging a bruised and battered looking Halim with her, “Damn good thing I perfected that shield spell, sir,” she said. 

“Damn good thing,” Halim agreed tiredly, he looked at Rienn - distressed, “Rienn … it’s gone. She took it.” 

“Took what?” Rienn asked, “And who’s she?!”

Halim swallowed, his voice cracking as he said, “Inge, Inge took the Seed - the giant acorn the First Expedition brought back from the Forest. It’s gone,” he repeated, sounding angrier with every word, “She took it.”

[randomvarious]

California Blues Playlist

Yep, I've got the blues, folks; and this week, they happen to come from a place that you might not normally associate them with: California. See, a lot of blues scenes first popped up in the south and midwest in the early half of the 20th century, but as black southerners were packing their bags and leaving the Jim Crow south to find better opportunities, a lot of them would end up either heading straight for California or finding their way there, eventually. So, here's a little, off-the-beaten path playlist of some superb Cali-made gems, spanning from the mid-60s to the mid-90s.

Now, a rather large chunk of this thing happens to be taken up by a pair of guys who both shared the same prefix of "Little" in their stage name: Little Joe Blue and Little Johnny Taylor. And I don't know what either of their physical statures truly were, but nothing about their music would suggest to me that they were small 😅. Little Joe Blue was often derided as a copycat of B.B. King, but I think that criticism really misses the forest for the trees, because if you can sound like B.B. King, then that means that you are one hell of a talented blues musician yourself. So, on this playlist, Joe opens up with "Standing on the Threshold," a song with about 2,100 plays on YouTube, and then later follows up with "Gonna Walk On" and "Encourage Me Baby," which have about 4,000 and 6,600 plays, respectively.

And, by far, the two most popular tunes on this playlist are both by Little Johnny Taylor, whose "Everybody Knows About My Good Thing" ended up being more famously covered by both The Rolling Stones and Texas soul-blues legend Z.Z. Hill; but the "Part 2" version of the song that I'm supplying here only has about 1,400 plays in total. And Taylor's other big tune, "Open House at My House," which also has a play count that numbers well past 100K, was more famously covered by Z.Z. Hill too. I like Taylor's renditions of both songs better, though.

The most impressive performance of all, though, comes from its lone woman, Ledisi, who delivered an incredibly soulful and live, five-and-a-half-minute rendition of an old torch song called "Stormy Weather" at San Francisco's Cafe du Nord back around 1996. She's a pretty popular musician, with songs on YouTube that have racked up over millions of plays each, but this stunning tune of hers only has about 4,200.

And following her is another performance from that same Cafe du Nord, by a guy named Lee E. White, whose brand of blues-gospel flew way under the radar, as his quiet tune here, "You're Gonna Miss Me," only currently has four YouTube plays.

And not to be missed, either, are a couple tunes from the guy who was quite possibly the second most important force in west coast blues, behind T-Bone Walker: Lowell Fulson. On this playlist, he contributes "Sleeper" and "My Baby," both sweet and smooth late 60s-early 70s cuts, with ~24.5K and ~5.5K plays, respectively.

This playlist is ordered as chronologically as possible and links are provided below to songs that have been posted about previously in order to give them more context:

Little Joe Blue - "Standing on the Threshold" Lowell Fulson - "Sleeper" Lowell Fulson - "My Baby" Little Johnny Taylor - "Everybody Knows About My Good Thing" Little Joe Blue - "Gonna Walk On" Little Joe Blue - "Encourage Me Baby" Little Johnny Taylor - "Open House at My House, Part 1" Little Johnny Taylor - "When the Deal Goes Down" Ledisi feat. The Rob Rhodes Trio - "Stormy Weather" Lee E. White - "You're Going to Miss Me"

(Wow, everybody's name starts with the letter L!)

This playlist is also on YouTube Music.

So, I'll be adding more songs to this sometime in the future, but for now, we start with ten very good songs that end up totaling a little over half an hour.

Enjoy!

More to come, eventually. Stay tuned!

Like what you hear? Follow me on Spotify and YouTube for more cool playlists and uploads!

[itsclydebitches]

hello! loved your tbb meta posts (10/10 analyses of the batch and their respective characterizations), but since it wasn't explicitly mentioned -- did you catch the post-s1 interview with jennifer corbett (head writer) and brad rau (exec producer)? their answers about crosshair's chip being out were Interesting (tm) but fairly definitive-sounding, so I'm wondering what your thoughts on it might've been.

Hey there, anon! Thank you—I’m so glad you’ve enjoyed them :D

I’ve heard this info second-hand and ran into one written interview on the topic (idk if it’s the same one you’re thinking of), but my first response is… arguably a reach lol. Not to start off with a tin hat on, but it’s always possible that the writers are lying. Which yes, yes, we have a knee-jerk reaction against the idea of anyone lying for any reason, but in this case, it would be in service of both the writer’s plans and the audience’s enjoyment. Let’s say for the sake of argument that Crosshair’s chip is definitely still in and the entire point of this setup is a double twist: first the reveal that his chip is gone, then the real reveal that it’s actually still in and Crosshair was lied to (among other possibilities). How can the writers discuss him during hiatus without revealing that twist? By playing the current knowledge straight, despite the fact that they know otherwise. Yup, Crosshair’s chip is out. Yup, he chose this 100% willingly. Nothing else to see here, folks! To do otherwise would be to reveal the twist way too early. Even refusing to answer the question, dodging it, would give it all away. Imagine if during a season finale we’re meant to believe that a character is dead and then during hiatus an interviewer asks how the cast will mourn them. If the writer refuses to answer, every fan will realize that Something Is Up and what’s the main possibility here? That they’re not actually dead! Twist spoiled… unless the writer pretends that what the audience currently knows is definitely the truth here.

Taking my tin hat off now, these interviews are one of the main reasons why I’m worried about the writing moving forward. Because despite the paragraph above, I’m by no means convinced that the writers are skillfully keeping up a lie to avoid spoilers. It’s not outside the realm of possibility, but it’s not necessarily likely either. Which leaves us taking their words at face value and that’s… a problem. Because as so many fans have already pointed out, the writing is setting up a twist that, according to these interviews, doesn’t exist. That doesn’t say good things about their intentions for the show vs. what actually ends up on screen and that kind of disconnect becomes frustrating for viewers very quickly. Take the headaches, for example. I’ve seen a couple of fans explain Crosshair’s away using the engine accident: “His face got burned up, of course his head still hurts. You’re reading too much into this.” But imagine for a moment if I’d tried to do the same thing for Wrecker prior to “Battle Scars”: “He gets thrown around and hits his head nearly every episode, of course it hurts. You’re reading too much into this.” Other fans would have—quite rightfully—explained to me how television works and that this repetitive problem is functioning as foreshadowing of a larger problem. With a side of the fact that this is an action show where the characters consistently shrug off their injuries. We’re not supposed to take Wrecker getting thrown around seriously. He’s the brawn of the group, meant to withstand a lot of damage, with any injuries being presented as either #cool (Wrecker shrugs off Fennec’s hits to go after Omega, yeah!) or #funny (Wrecker treats Crosshair shooting him like a badge of honor lol), not something he’s going to have to grapple with in a serious manner. So the audience recognizes the question, what’s more likely? That Wrecker’s headaches are a deliberate visual cue on the part of the writers to tell us that something important is happening, or that suddenly how the genre treats injuries has drastically changed?

It's precisely the same with Crosshair. He’s not the brawn like Wrecker is, but he’s still the action (anti)hero who shrugs off injuries because this is a show interested in more fun, explosive plot, not a deep dive into recovery. (See also: the story doing nothing with Echo’s trauma.) When Crosshair is injured, he’s immediately fighting to get back into a ship and when we next see him he’s passed the recovery stage entirely. There’s only a scar to show that this happened at all. We don’t watch him getting bacta skin grafts, or worrying about his eyesight, or struggling to eat, etc. The point is that he was injured for the purposes of that episode and now he’s not. So why would we think his headaches are a long-term symptom when the show is otherwise not at all interested in writing long-term symptoms? What’s more likely, that this familiar visual cue is being repeated to tell us that this is the chip, just like it was with Wrecker, or that the story is randomly interested in something it never was interested in before?

The audience is right to think that there’s more going on because the show has been written to say, "Something more is going on." The headaches, Crosshair’s refusal to give concrete information, the group conveniently not using Tech’s scanner, the burn scar hiding where the chip’s scar would be, a lack of motivation for the Empire removing the chip, not seeing its removal when the show did include its power being amplified… all of these are deliberate writing choices to set up another reveal. But, if we take the interview at face value and learn that these weren’t deliberate details… then what? The writers are making mistakes? Throwing in “clues” for the hell of it that they never intend to cache in on? Unless there’s some amazing answer here that allows for both these inconsistencies' explanations and the writers’ hard stance—something I personally can’t think up—then we’re left with is a pretty serious flaw in the show. A flaw that’s going to undermine the audience’s trust in everything we get from here on out. The next time we see something that feels like a cool setup/reveal, half the fandom will be going, “Yes! It totally means that ___ is going to happen!!” while the other half will be going, “… does it? Because we thought things were happening with Crosshair and that went nowhere.” Writers have to tackle the implications of what they’ve put on screen. Otherwise, the story falls apart.

So yeah, I’m aware of those hard “His chip is out and this is his choice” statements and, frankly, they make me nervous for season two. Because what the show needs is to engage with what we actually got in the finale: an ambiguous state of Crosshair’s chip, a number of hints that it might still be in there, and an ethical dilemma that, so far, hasn’t acknowledged how much of an influence the group’s decisions have had on Crosshair’s. I tackled most of this in the first analysis, but something I didn’t unpack there was the “choice” of not leaving with them. I mean yes, by all exact definitions—and if we accept that the chip really isn’t there—then Crosshair absolutely had free will in that moment to do as he pleased. But life is way more complicated than that. Imagine for a moment that I put two candy bars in front of you. “You can have whichever one you’d like,” I say. You reach for the one on the left and I glare, hard. I scoff at you. I mutter about your choices, your personality, your flaws, and your mistakes. So you reach for the one on the right instead and I’m… neutral. Okay then. Right candy bar it is. “They could have chosen the one on the left” someone watching claims. “Nothing was stopping them. No one put a gun to their head!” And yeah, the concept of “stopping them” was never that extreme… but the more compassionate, nuanced look acknowledge that some measure of “stopping them” did exist. Insults. Cruelty. A clear indication that one choice was wrong and the other was right. That’s one hell of an influence, even if it's not as formidable as a gun or a chip.

And that’s what Crosshair is dealing with. Yes, joining the Empire is clearly wrong and yes, a non-chipped Crosshair has free will to walk away from it… but walking towards TBB was never presented as a real option for him. He saw that through their inaction when they never came back for him. Then in Hunter’s refusal to admit that they’d made a mistake in leaving him behind. Wrecker putting all responsibility on his shoulders, despite knowing what the chip does to someone. Tech backing him up and framing this situation as stemming solely from Crosshair’s base personality—“severe and unyielding.” It’s seen in the always-loving Omega walking away from him in the barracks, in Crosshair’s hesitation to follow them to safer ground (and boy oh boy, do I have sad headcanons about that), and most especially, in their reactions to him saving Omega. What Crosshair learns in that moment is that they honestly believe that he, not the Empire's chip, but he would shoot Hunter and that saving their little sister is not a point in his favor. It's met only with glares and a need to disarm himself. They don’t trust him and actions that should produce trust are outright ignored, so… where can they go from here? Nowhere, according to TBB’s actions. They’re not giving Crosshair any wiggle room, any hope that these relationships can be repaired, or any acknowledgement that they had a hand in things getting this bad. So when they offer to let Crosshair come with them—which is very significantly presented as an obligation, not something they want—he knows that offer is BS. Whatever their real feelings might be (because the found family show obviously wants us to believe that everyone loves each other), their actions have said loud and clear that they don’t want him. That yes, he could technically walk onto that ship… but that it would be the “wrong” decision accompanied by more insults, scoffs, and pressure to do otherwise. That once he's there, he'll be treated only as a threat with any good deeds ignored. It's an awful offer outside of it being the morally correct decision when it comes to leaving the Empire... so Crosshair reaches for the right candy bar instead.

That very long tangent out of the way, THIS is what season two has to grapple with, along with all that ambiguity and the existence of these "The chip is still here" hints. But the interviews don’t seem to acknowledge that all of this exists, instead framing things as if we’d ended the finale knowing for sure that the chip is out and had watched a season where Crosshair is 100% responsible for everything that’s happened, no Empire or TBB influence involved. The way the interviews frame things doesn’t match up with the text, so I can only hope this is an example of bad communication, or the writers keeping a spoiler under wraps, because otherwise… season two might be frustrating to watch, with fans continually going, “Why are you ignoring that this happened? Why are you pretending that all of this is simpler than it actually is?”

[magicalgirlagency]

Which ableist magical girl anime? What are you talking about?

I'm talking about Yuuki Yuuna is a Hero/Yuuki Yuuna wa Yuusha de Aru (or YuYuYu, for short). It has gotten a new season, entitled Great Mankai's Chapter ("Mankai" means "Full Bloom", so alternatively is Great Full-Bloom's Chapter).

For those who don't know this series very well, I'll explain why it's ableist:

The series was highly praised and recommended by some people because it featured a wheelchair-user magical girl, Tougo Mimori. She was part of a school club called the Hero Club, where she and other girls would dedicate themselves doing community services and several other good deeds.

When she's transformed, she acts as a sniper, using a variety of weapons from a long distance; another detail in her Hero form, is that she can also use long ribbons to move herself.

Which at first it sounds cool, right? Disabled people are finally being seen in media, right?

...except that we learn later on the series that her disability is a curse.

You see, in YuYuYu, the Heroes are young maidens blessed with divine abilities by the Yuusha System, an exclusively female system granted by the Shinju (alternatively, the Divine Tree). This system's goal is to "create new gods out of humanity", and the reason why only young women (specially underage ones) can become Heroes is because they have pure energy and a high aptitude, being able to resonate most closely with the Shinju.

The Heroes' duty is to prevent the total destruction of humanity at the hands of the Vertex (divine beasts who have succeeded in destroying most of the world, except for the Shikoku Island of Japan, as it was protected by the Shinju).

The Shinju's workshipping is overseen by the Taisha organization, a group that provides many protections to the Heroes (such as Mankai, Sange, and the Fairies), as well as financial aides... buuuuuuut it turns out that they're shady and full of shit, because this is a seinen series, and we can’t have nice things on a seinen series.

You see, the girls' Hero Club at their school is just a cover-up for the Hero System, and this information was UNKNOWN TO ALL GIRLS (except for Inubouzaki Fuu) AT THE FIRST EPISODE. THE GIRLS WERE UNCERIMONIOUSLY THROWN INTO BATTLE.

And that's not all! The Mankai power-up grants the Heroes incredible power for an limited time period, but the Sange behaves as a SACRIFICE, CAUSING THE HEROES TO PERMANENTLY LOSE A RANDOM BODILY FUNCTION AS A RESULT. MIMORI TOUGO HAS LOST THE FUNCTION OF HER LEGS, AND HER MEMORIES AS WELL! AND THE TAISHA LIED TO HER BY SAYING THAT SHE GOT IN A CAR ACCIDENT!!

THE TAISHA KEPT THE NATURE OF THE MANKAI AND THE SANGE A SECRET FROM THE GIRLS, BECAUSE THEY KNEW FULLY WELL THAT THEY WOULDN'T COOPERATE!!

WHEN MIMORI LEARNS THE TRUTH AND REGAINS HER MEMORIES, SHE NOT ONLY ATTEMPTS TO KILL HERSELF, BUT SHE ALMOST JUMPSTARTS THE APOCALYPSE IN A FIT OF PANIC, BY BLASTING AN OPENING FOR THE VERTEXES TO REACH AND DESTROY THE SHINJU IN ORDER TO "END THIS LIVING HELL"!!

BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE!! THE TITULAR CHARACTER, YUUKI YUUNA, IS OFFERED AS A BRIDE FOR THE SHINJU IN A LAST-DITCH ATTEMPT TO APPEASE THE GODS!!

THE GIRLS ARE TREATED LIKE SOLDIERS, OBJECTS THAT CAN BE EASILY DISPOSABLE AND EASILY REPLACED!!

AND I'M STILL NOT DONE: ON THE FINAL EPISODE OF THE FIRST SEASON, THE YUUSHA SYSTEM BECOMES UNUSABLE, AND THE GIRLS HAVE THEIR DISABILITIES ~MAGICALLY HEALED~, INCLUDING MIMORI WHO IS NOW ABLE TO WALK ON HER OWN!!

SO THERE YOU HAVE IT, FOLKS; DISABILITIES ARE A FORSAKEN CURSE, AND THE ONLY WAY TO BE SET FREE OF THIS HELLISH ORDEAL IS TO ATTEMPT TO GAME-END YOURSELF AND EVERYONE ELSE, IF POSSIBLE!!

BUT DID ANYONE PAID ATTENTION TO HOW FUCKED UP THIS WAS? HELL NO!! NO ONE DID!! EVERYONE'S HAPPY AND JOLLY, AND EVERYTHING'S FUN AGAIN!!

WHAT A WAY TO SHIT ON DISABLED PEOPLE'S FEELINGS, HUH?!

Oh, and did I mention that Mimori is shamelssly sexualized, too? In her transformation sequence, the camera focuses on her bouncing breasts, not only once, but TWICE!

Like, I know that breasts aren't sexual appendages and there are young girls who develop them at an early age (myself included, because I went through the same thing), but if you get turned on by minors and spank your monkey for their developing appendages, I say you should stop talking and go to jail. Immediately. Go to fuckin' jail, and never leave your cell.

...*sigh*... that was a lot. The only saving grace of YuYuYu is that its girls are friendly and are in good terms with eachother instead of being territorial, nasty and bordeline murderous (like the ones in Magical Girl Raising Project, for an example), and the series ends with everyone alive and well.

However, I will NOT excuse its ableist plot and its bullshit ending. These things are not okay, and should be properly addressed and discussed.

If you're going to recommend YuYuYu to anyone, at least tell them that it's not a good representation of disabilities. Really, it'll save a whole lot of trouble.

Watch The Owl House instead; at least Eda embraces her disability (which in canon it was really a curse, so it behaves more like a metaphor), and is rewarded with a new form as a result.

Disabled people are NOT damned, and they deserve RESPECT!

[fembot-y2k]

Long post about something I think about a lot and that doesn’t matter to anyone else but me probably

I’m sure there’s a million posts out there on why good representation is important and good but I just wanted to talk shortly about something that happened to me in a recent span of a few months involving a character in a dumb game about collecting jpegs of anime women and hunky dudes with giant swords.

There’s a game called Granblue Fantasy, its an extremely popular gacha game/JRPG with a very large roster of characters and a lot of stuff to do as far as reading through character lore, fighting JRPG battles, raids, and basically playing VNs for character dialogue. It’s a pretty good game, and one of the coolest things about it, is it has (to my knowledge, I dont play/keep up with it very often) 2 canon trans characters. One is named Cagliostro, an alchemist who was born as a man but through extensive experimentation and some self discovery has since transitioned into a woman, hell bent on making herself as cute as possible. Fun right? She’s presented extremely well and is one of the game’s more fun characters. The second character is one that has become a personal favourite for me for many reasons, her name is Ladiva.

Ladiva is a part of a race of people called the Draph. The Draph are a humanoid, and pretty much human looking, race of people with their defining features being their large stature and bovine like horns and ears. This is important because male draph are usually much larger and more muscular than female draph (but its a horny anime game so who can say they’re surprised lol). Ladiva, as my discussion here makes obvious, is a trans woman belonging to these folk. Because of this, she’s both quite large, muscular(and more masculine presenting on the surface), and has rugged looking facial hair. The surprising thing about her presentation in comparison to how she looks, is that she’s presented incredibly well. despite her appearance being not as feminine as it could be (with Cagliostro even offering to make her a new totally feminine body only to have Ladiva refuse, stating that she should love her own body along with the rest of herself) she’s treated as what she is, a woman.

So why am I talking about this? Why am I putting my poorly put together thoughts on this tumblr post no one will read? Well, I am trans. I have felt a certain way about myself all my life that I’m sure most trans people can echoe so I won’t wast time waxing poetic about how I’ve always felt more feminine than I was “supposed” to be. My core purpose of this post comes from the fact that I am 6′2, nearly 300lbs of muscle/fat/body hair, and have had a full beard since I was 14. I am EXCEEDINGLY masculine, which has made my own internal struggle with my transness sort of difficult to accept. A sort of constant push and pull of wanting to just repress it all because I already pass as a man and wanting to work towards being who I know I actually am. Another factor is that I never felt truly comfortable with purely feminine pronouns. In highschool I went by a different name, and I used she/her pronouns and for a while it felt okay. But it was always just, okay. It never felt right on top of several people giving me some rather hurtful backlash for it and how it contrasted so much with my physical appearance. So I stowed it all away until about a year ago. I now have something that I didn’t have before, a truly wonderful and supportive group of adult friends who treat me like an adult as well and take me seriously. So through careful examination of how I felt i began trying new things to explore my identity. It began with me deciding I wanted to use they/them pronouns, this stuck and still feels like its the right thing for me along with the label of Nonbinary. However, slotting myself into this new label and finally feeling comfortable in an identity brought about new thoughts as well as new things to mull over in my head. Things like the fact that most nonbinary representation in media falls under the same category of a waifish AFAB person who presemts femininely if not androgynous, and how people like me are a vocal minority within the community itself even being excluded by a small portion of it. It was a new set of things to tackle and think about. But that aside, with them came the most important thing I asked myself, “am I comfortable with how I am now? Or do those thoughts I had all those years ago mean something?”

This question isnt easy. Gender is a strange subject and is different to everyone who experiences something with their identity, so I wont pretend like I have any definitive answers for anything because, there arent really any of those. The question for myself, boiled down to “Am I more comfortable identifying as transfeminine, or am I comfortable with just being nonbinary.” This question vexed me for a little while. It hurt to think about. A lifetime of bullying and being made to be ashamed of my body type and stature had made my confidence in myself rather lackluster. This made the decision more difficult. It would be easy to try and own a sense of pride in being a masculine presenting nonbinary person. There aren’t many of those in representation as I mentioned before, and at the time it made me feel nice to think that it was what I wanted. But those thoughts I had all those years ago did mean something, and thats not who I am. The answer I ultimately came to, was that I am trans, and want to present more feminine than masculine, because that’s who I know I am, and not just what I think would be easiest. So, to bring it all together, how the everloving fuck does this relate to a character from a gacha game? Well, when i first saw Ladiva I nearly wrote her off as a character that probably was used as a disrespectful  joke on trans women and how they’re viewed. She’s not though. She has an entire montra of loving herself and others for who they are and owning every aspect of herself, including her body. She’s not a small lady, she’s a large/muscular wrestler who, in no mistake of words, still looks very masculine, right down to her facial hair. But none of that matters, not her appearance, not her beard, not her height, she’s still a woman and she’s seen as one by the others around her because, well, that’s what she is. She makes it known and others accept, or at the very least, respect it. It was something entirely new to see something like this in a form of popular media, and in turn it gave me an odd sense of self confidence in my own current appearance, even though I do intend on changing it through HRT and other means (exercise and other health related means). It meant a lot to me to see someone who was, in at least some way, like me who was loved by the community of the game she was in. And it still does. In conclusion, Ladiva is a very cool character, and her existing gave me a boost of confidence that helped lead me towards accepting things about myself that I had found it hard to previously. Go look into Granblue if you like games like that, there’s even a fighting game that came out not too long ago. Thanks for reading, if you did, this whole post is long and kind of dumb because I’m kind of dumb. But I wanted to put it somewhere. Have a nice day <3