#just saying i think its so slay i was able to actually experience new years and jsut be silly

[bell-swamp-fitzjames]

Me: oh i suddenly have a lot of free time, i can be productive & get silly

also me: vaguely stares into space not doing much of anything besides think about the terror bc it's been one of those weeks (months)

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Eye of the World! Chapter 48: The Blight

Concept art by Filip Štorch and shrunk down just a tad or five, rendering his signature illegible. This reread compresses lots of things - for example, I fit spoilers for the whole of The Wheel of Time into every post! If you don't like that, it's best to be somewhere else.

This chapter gives us our last new chapter icon of the book: another tree at night, but this one twisted and bent over. It's got kind of a look of a flipped Aes Sedai symbol, with the tree making up the upside down fang (appropriate since saidin got the corruption and all) while trying to obscure the upside down flame of the moon. I don't think this symbolism ever means anything, but it's fun. This kind of icon means "Blight", or occasionally the worst of the things from it.

A large steel mirror, carefully turned down, away from the sun, now, glittered atop each tower below the high iron cup where signal fires could be lit when the sun did not shine. The signal would be flashed, to towers further from the Border, and by those to still others, and so relayed to the heartland fortresses, from where the lances would ride to turn back the raid. Were times normal, they would.

I can't help but feel that this kind of set up is actually less effective than signal fires would be. You have to figure out where the sun is, hope there's no clouds in the way or that it's not too early or late in the day to catch the light, angle the mirror appropriately, and hope the people at the other side manage to catch the glint of the tower and are also able to relay it down the line. Much simpler to just have the signal fires which can be lit at any time and are easily protected from the rain. Am I crazy?

“To escort you here means we may not reach the Gap before the fighting is done. I am robbed of the chance to stand with the rest, and at the same time I am commanded not to ride one step beyond the borderpost, as if I had never before been in the Blight. And My Lord Agelmar will not tell me why.” 

If you liked fighting Trollocs so much, you shouldn't have become a Darkfriend. This is the Wheel punishing you, bub. All the other squadron commanders are gonna fight just fine cuz they're not filthy traitors to existence.

Eastward they would join other steel serpents, from Fal Moran, behind King Easar himself with his sons at his side, and from Ankor Dail, that held the Eastern Marches and guarded the Spine of the World; from Mos Shirare and Fal Sion and Camron Caan, and all the other fortresses in Shienar, great and small. Joined into a greater serpent, they would turn north to Tarwin’s Gap.

Is Jordan just describing the movements of armies here, or is he creating the imagery of the Great Serpent itself preparing to strike against those who fight to slay it?

Rand nodded. He could feel it, too, though he could not say what it was exactly he was feeling. The wrongness went beyond the first warmth he could remember out of doors this year; it was more than the simple fact that it should not be so warm this far north. It must be the Blight, but the land was the same.

Rand's Shadowsense is about as refined now as it's ever going to be.

The Shadow can only corrupt what's already there - the land's the same, there's just something wrong with the area the Shadow's claimed.

“Flowers can kill in the Blight, and leaves maim. There’s a little thing called a Stick that likes to hide where the leaves are thickest, looking like its name, waiting for something to touch it. When something does, it bites. Not poison. The juice begins to digest the Stick’s prey for it. The only thing that can save you is to cut off the arm or leg that was bitten. But a Stick won’t bite unless you touch it. Other things in the Blight will.”

Good to know that stick bugs are thriving in the post-apocalypse due to Aginor's horrible experiments.

The big youth glared at the obscene forest through which they rode as he might have at an enemy, or the banner of an enemy. He caressed the axe at his belt as if unaware of what he was doing, and muttered to himself, half growling in a way that made the hair on Rand’s neck stir.

Lan: Keep quiet or we might get killed.

Perrin: WOOF WOOF WOOF!

At least when Mat's making noises right now it's cuz he's throwing up. Get it together, Perrin. It ain't like there's wolves in the area to be encouraging you to focus on your powers.

“No two among the Ogier have found it in exactly the same place. The Green Man seems to be found where he is needed. But it has always been beyond the high passes. They are treacherous, the high passes, and haunted by creatures of the Dark One.”

Really this just makes the Green Man sound more and more like a Fantastica immigrant, since a key point of the world of The Neverending Story was that it couldn't be mapped because places didn't have spatially defined relations to one another, but instead travelers ended up where they needed to be going. I wonder if Jordan ever read the book.

For one brief instant the sun’s rays caught the shattered tops, and Rand’s breath stilled. Not hills. The broken remnants of seven towers. He was not sure if anyone else had seen it; the sight was gone as quickly as it came.

Remember what I was saying about the inefficiency of the mirror towers?

Nothing that big could live in a lake that size. Those couldn’t have been hands on those tentacles. They couldn’t have been.

Not gonna lie, the fact that our heroes never had to fight this bizarre aquatic Shadowspawn (or really any of the horrifying beasts of the far Blight) is one of the biggest disappointments of the series. And honestly as much as I'd like to blame my usual scapegoat, it's not as if Jordan did much with the Blight after this book himself.

“It is a simple thing,” she said, “a bending, so any eye looking at us sees around us, instead. We cannot have the eyes that will be out there seeing our lights tonight, and the Blight is no place to be in the dark.”

Moiraine says that it's a simple thing, but we don't actually see it get used that much. Rand picks up the trick in the mid-series, but he is of course the extreme end of the scale. I don't recall any other big instances of it getting used, which make me think that it's a simple weave geometrically but demanding of so much Fire and Air that Moiraine is one of the few modern Aes Sedai who can cast it.

“There,” Egwene said as if it were settled. “I know. I will make you my Warder, when I’m an Aes Sedai. You would like being a Warder, wouldn’t you? My Warder?” She sounded sure, but he saw the question in her eyes. She wanted an answer, needed it. “I’d like being your Warder,” he said. She’s not for you, nor you for her. Why did Min have to tell me that?

Probably because if you were hellbent on keeping Egwene's love no matter what you'd end up dying halfway through book two. Gotta love Moiraine's, "I can find shit for all of you to do in Tar Valon" claim too. That's "not technically lying" for "You all can spend five minutes getting instructions on where to go next as we march you lot through the Prophecies, then leave immediately."

The Warder was still awake, seated not far from him with his sword across his knees, watching the night. To Rand’s surprise, so was Nynaeve.

Not gonna lie, I kinda wish that every book had had a subplot that Rand (or one of the other six major characters) was completely oblivious to until right before the climax when suddenly all the subtext comes rushing to the forefront. It would have been fun.

“I will never shame you.” The gentle tone, like a caress, sounded odd to Rand’s ears in the Warder’s voice, but it made Nynaeve’s eyes brighten. “I will hate the man you choose because he is not me, and love him if he makes you smile. No woman deserves the sure knowledge of widow’s black as her brideprice, you least of all.” He set the untouched cup on the ground and rose. “I must check the horses.” Nynaeve remained there, kneeling, after he had gone. Sleep or no, Rand closed his eyes. He did not think the Wisdom would like it if he watched her cry.

The saddest thing is, at the end of the day, Nynaeve and Lan will marry and she will have the sure knowledge of widow's black. She's going to outlive him by centuries.

The other sad stuff of course includes: Lan's spent his whole life making himself miserable for no reason (he's still an amazing fighter after he and Nynaeve bang it out), he's making Nynaeve miserable for that same lack of reason, and Rand and Nynaeve don't have a relationship where he's able to comfort her in any meaningful way, so the best he can do for her is pretend that he's asleep.

Depressing chapter end, but don't worry: next time things get scary instead!

[weissicles]

Humanity and Catharsis: FE3H Crimson Flower Meta!

I finished the Crimson Flower route for Fire Emblem: Three Houses! Now it’s time for some meta. This isn’t spoiler-free and it’s pretty long... so read at your own risk! (Though, I’m pretty late to the party, so I’m sure you’re all way ahead of me...)

Byleth’s Ending

First and foremost, let me begin by saying that this ending has to be my favorite for Byleth. I mentioned in an earlier post that I am aware of the end results of the Azure Moon (AM), Verdant Wind (VW), and Silver Snow (SS) routes, despite still needing to play it. I still felt pleasantly surprised and very pleased to play through the CF route, especially for Byleth, because I truly believe this was the best ending for their character. Byleth loses their divine powers, becoming even more human than they were at the beginning of the game, and that’s pretty neat.

(Borrowed this image from r/Edelgard; thank you, u/BrilliantGenius)

I think the biggest reason why I love this ending so much for Byleth is because they return to being a real person. Throughout the whole game, the player gets to watch how Byleth, a traveling mercenary, realizes that they are connected to Sothis, the Goddess, and how they awaken their true powers. Byleth merges with Sothis in every route, but only in the CF route do they lose their divine powers, as killing Rhea results in the breaking of the crest stone in their heart. Why does this matter? Numerous times, Edelgard mentions how she wishes to end the tyrannical rule of the Children of the Goddess (CotG), particularly Rhea, because she perceives that humanity has moved past needing to be ruled by non-humans and the oppressive systems they’ve created. Edelgard is traumatized by her own horrendous past, which drives her to find ways to end suffering. She appears like any crazy, mad queen figure in the routes that cast her as an antagonist, but what remains true throughout all routes is her passion for finding ways for humans to be humans without unnecessary suffering. She desires to restore humanity to its dignified state by eliminating the CotG, which make sheep out of people.

That’s why Byleth--the one with divine powers, quite literally the Goddess Incarnate--returning to how she was at the beginning is so powerful. This person, who became a weapon to change the tides of war, now gets to be a normal human. The crest stone breaking and her heart beginning to beat for the very first time symbolizes the collapse of the crest system and the freedom from a system that hailed Byleth as a weapon rather than a person. What’s more, Edelgard, the lord fighting for ideals of humanity, is the first person to hear Byleth’s heartbeat. She is the first person to realize Byleth’s changes, to see how they become a person again. Her dream for Fodlan is realized first in the person she looks up to the most, the person who has fought by her side since the start of the story. If that’s not poetic, I don’t know what else to tell you.

Catharsis

Now, what about Edelgard?

Let’s not pretend that she isn’t controversial. She is, and for good reason. Presented as attractive and likeable regardless of your choice of house, Edelgard serves as the antagonist for 3 of 4 routes. She dies in every route except CF and that matters. She turns into a heartless, cold leader whose ruthlessness can no longer be justified as the bloodshed continues to worsen. In the eyes of the other lords and Rhea, there is no possible way for someone as crazed as Edelgard to live. And frankly? The way that she turns out without Byleth, that makes sense.

So, why does it matter that she lives in CF, and that we see her the way she is? In no other ending do we ever see Edelgard herself returning to a sense of being human. No other ending provides reason for why she should live. CF is the only route where we can explore her character in full, realize that she is just a girl after all, and that she is human, too. That is why it is only in CF do we see this: Edelgard crying.

Following the battle at Tailtean Plains and slaying Dimitri, Edelgard nearly cries when she talks about the fallen king. Now, this is just a headcanon of mine, but I imagine that she might have remembered something about him and their childhood at the mention of her nickname, El. (”To the fires of eternity with you, El...”) His death shakes her to the point of nearly crying, but she doesn’t. She even says that the Edelgard who sheds tears died a long time ago.

But she cries when she thinks Byleth is dying.

This is the moment when the Adrestian Emperor returns to who she really is: Edelgard. Unable to help herself, Edelgard experiences grief and reacts as any person might by crying for the person she loves. She does something she hasn’t done in years, probably since she’s been a very young child in the dungeons underneath the palace in Enbarr. Why? Because she loves Byleth and losing someone you love should break you. This scene goes to show how Edelgard cares deeply for her teacher to the point of experiencing loss. When she realizes that Byleth may yet be alive (since the crest stone broke), she presses her head to her chest, hears her heartbeat for the first time, and starts to laugh. Yes, she laughs! Quietly, and mangled with the sound of some tears, which we can assume are shed out of pure joy that their professor is alive.

Here we see that Edelgard, like Byleth, is returning to a more human state. She’s finally allowed some catharsis, a major resolution to her suppressed character. Throughout the whole game, Edelgard has been nothing but repressed, constantly wearing the mask of Emperor, bound by duty, unable to be truly free. Without Byleth, she becomes even more inhuman as she really becomes more tyrannical. But with Byleth, like her teacher, she becomes more human, able to express feelings, able to be warm, able to experience loss because she loved.

Now, this is my more personal take on it, but I have always liked the thought of Edelgard and Byleth being more romantic than platonic following the timeskip. It’s heavily hinted that Edelgard has always taken a keen interest on the professor. What initially begins as a hope that Byleth may side with her turns into an actual desire to walk with her and experience a new dawn with her. Interestingly, the Japanese version has Edelgard more explicit with her romantic feelings than in the English version. Regardless of whether you read their relationship as romantic or platonic, I think this ending makes it clear that Byleth and Edelgard are equal, humans, people who care for one another and work well together. Byleth fulfills their role as more than an advisor. They are a mentor, a friend, and even family (see their ability to call Edelgard “El”, a name only Edelgard’s father and Dimitri use in CF). In that way, this route’s final message is this: that to love is to be human, and to be human is ultimately to love. That is why I really think that this route is the best possible outcome for Edelgard and especially for Byleth.

Other Takes

While I was disappointed that it was only 18 chapters long, CF does take a more direct approach, as the tides shift significantly when Byleth sides with the Empire. I would have liked if Claude and Dimitri played a more prominent role, though I know that CF focuses mainly on Edelgard and the BE’s against the Church of Seiros. I really think there was potential for Claude and Edelgard to be something besides a warring emperor and a neutral leader. I will admit: Edelclaude is a crack ship of mine. But I find their similar views on the church, their dreams of a new dawn for Fodlan, and their odd interactions to be interesting enough. I understand why Claude either must die or leave (for Almyra). If he hadn’t, that could have changed the way the war turned out, ultimately lessening Byleth’s role. It’s an interesting thought for a canon-divergent story. And let’s be real: Edelgard and Claude somewhat flirting while they face off in Derdriu? Ain’t slick at all!

And Dimitri... Oh, poor Dimitri. My best friend and roommate just finished AM and was so defeated by Edelgard’s death because of her relationship with Dimitri. They’re a tragic set of people, Edelgard and Dimitri, and it makes sense that in both AM and CF, one of them must die. Still, I was so shaken by Dimitri’s last words before Edelgard personally executes him in CF. I would like to think that that was not easy for her at all. I would like to think that she remembered him, at least a bit, and that she felt something there as she killed him. I don’t know what else I would have wanted out of Dimitri in CF, but I know I wanted something more. AM does a great job of providing good angst from Dimitri’s side. It would have been nice to see that from Edelgard’s side as well.

----

All in all, CF was a great route and may remain my favorite route, as I’m very impressed by Edelgard as a character. We’ll see! It’ll be a while until I play another route, but suffice to say that I’m floored by FE3H’s story, characters, and world. What a beautiful game, through and through!

[sunflowers-heart]

October 23rd – Monster

13 Days of Spooky Writing Event

Pairing: Thranduil x Reader

Word count: 1,896

Warnings: Big sad, much emotion.

Author’s note: I really love Thranduil, okay?

During many years of your lone journey through the Middle Earth, you have heard many words describing the King of Mirkwood. Some of them revealed the hidden fear of the Elvenking, some included fascination and some said that he did not even exist in the first place, that he was a made up story for children, just like his whole kingdom. However, there was one term you could not so quickly forget, the one engraved in your memory for some peculiar reason—the one you repeated to yourself while crossing the borders of Mirkwood, wary of what you might encounter.

The rumour that the Elvenking was a heartless monster.

You were familiar with the infamous stories on how he paid no mind to those in need, how little did their lives mean to him, how his egoistic nature caused him to fight for what he believed was right only, how selfish was his attitude and how he considered his kin as above everyone else. Perhaps you would eventually believe in them all if you did not know better than to listen every rumour you hear along the way. Words spread faster than a diseases, every next one changed a little by the mouth they were spoken from and so, you wondered how much of a truth they actually contained.

Contrary to what you imagined to see, the Elvenking did not resemble any kind of monster in the slightest. His grace and pride was undeniable, his beauty outstanding and his voice deeply serene. The weight of his gaze upon you seemed to be enough to crash you to the ground but instead of that, you were invited to the feast as a guest. A storyteller, the one who could share the most recent news about the world outside of the kingdom.

He did not act like a monster when he shared his people’s food and wine with you, neither did he act like one when he was listening to you talking, lazy sight carefully picking out every single detail of your appearance. Firen was the only way he addressed you endlessly, no matter how many opportunities you took to remind him your real name.

You have lost the track of time soon after arriving to Mirkwood, all days melting together like one, the kingdom surrounding you so magical that you forgot about all the evil creeping outside. There was no flesh eating creatures under the magnificent roof with countless waterfalls flowing down the halls. There was no fear between the ancient pages of the books you were eventually allowed to look at. There was no tears during the evening feasts in the forests. There was no pain in dancing all night long in the pale starlight.

There was only calmness filling your soul, the steady rhythm of your beating heart and the utter peace of your soul where apparently nothing bad could reach you. Walking in a dream, you found yourself falling in love with the world you did not belong to and to your surprising notice, you could experience all of it simply because the Elvenking—Thranduil, as you learned—allowed you to.

Simply because his heart was not as cold as the rumours claimed it to be.

“Tell me about your ancestors, firen,” he ordered on one particularly warm day, when the first, vivid green leaves were poking their tips out from the thin branches. It was an early morning, the fog still not fading in the sunlight and it was an accident that you stumbled upon each other—the Elvenking attending his usual morning stroll and you, still not going to sleep after a truly interesting lecture you managed to find in the library, written in a language you understood.

“About my family?” you wondered. “With all due respect, I’m not sure if I can interest you with this kind of story, My Lord. They are no royalty.”

“If I wanted to listen about royalty, I would simply take a look upon the letters my father left me.” His voice was haughty yet soft, like a fresh rime. “I was wondering what kind of people could beget a woman willing to travel alone through the foreign lands.”

“Are you thinking about lunatics or heroes?”

He did not smile at your little joke, but something in his expression changed. Perhaps your words did amuse him, which might be the reason why he apparently enjoyed your company, or maybe it was just the small bullfinch sitting on a nearby branch which caught his attention.

“I suppose we are to find out about that,” he barely whispered, not taking his gaze off the bird.

And so, you started talking, carefully choosing what to say next so you would not bore him with this not so exciting story. Living for as long as all Elves did, you would be surprised if he thought of any part of your speech as even remotely interesting. He has seen it all and much more, already, he has witnessed war, loss and love, he had an adult son and once a wife also. Your history, no matter how much could it mean to you, would soon be nothing but a blink of an eye for him, just as fleeting the seasons were.

You were a whisper on the wind, made to be heard by his ear and eventually fade out.

“Give me your hand.” The command caused you to stop talking in a middle of the sentence and look at the Elvenking confused. A quick motion of his arm caused an expensive robes to move gracefully before he showed what he expected from you. “Like that.”

You did as you were told, slowly outstretching your arm and only then noticing how the bullfinch tilted its head to the right and jumped few times on the branch before opening wings and swiftly landing at Thranduil’s open palm. It was a breath-taking view to observe, the trust of the small creature completely unexpected. You stood in the same position, listening as the Elvenking started talking, while gently stroking the bird’s head with his index finger.

“There is beauty in simplicity, something a race of Men often tends to forget about. Ironically, since they are the ones who should cherish it the most, the gentle passing of time. I find your admiration to save as many moments as possible as equally pointless and fascinating. To know that one day your whole existence will turn into ashes brings out the most primal instincts—but only the wise can focus on the beauty of a fleeting moment. A single memory.”

Slowly, he reached to you and you held your breath when the bird cautiously jumped from his hand onto yours, it’s tiny feet gently tickling your skin and the smile appearing on your lips.

“Not many of the race of Men can find a beauty in evanescence.” Thranduil continued, watching you staring at the bullfinch as if it was the first time in your whole life that you experienced such a moment. “It is a rare ability among those who do not feel the impact of time and even rarer in those who are the most prone to it.”

The bird on your hand with its adorably red belly was fascinating enough that you did not notice the way the Elvenking looked at you, aware that he was going to savour this single image in his memory for many, many thousands of years in the future.

Thranduil was not a monster, although he understood why many were ready to address him as such. He was aware of his doings, of his regrets and faults but he also knew how much does it take to carry the weight of the necessity. Men were foolish, easily led by their own emotions which changed as quickly as the wind, and it was their doom they always brought upon themselves. Perspective makes history look different, the deeds appearing in a light nobody would expect them to centuries ago and it was the ability their kind lacked.

How could they possibly understand what was wise and what not, if they never truly lived to face the consequences of their own actions? If they had no idea what would their descendants have to endure?

The human he decided to invite to his kingdom was no less blind than the rest of her kind, nevertheless he found her presence and stories amusing. It was different; her point of view, the news she brought from the lands far on the east, and he found himself roaming through the halls of his kingdom with head full of the images of her face and the sound of her voice. She talked about the beauty of the lake she stayed by one night in a way which made him feel like a fool. As if it was him, who was blind for this whole time and could not see the world in the same way she did.

Ironically, it was his eyes which were used to seeing more, looking through darkness and illusions.

There was a reflection of the setting sun in her eyes when she spoke about it, a picture so clear that he could almost touch it, as if he was witnessing it for the first time in his whole life. There was a melody in her tone when she was repeating the legends she heard along the way and for some reason he grew fond of it, the excitement being something he has forgotten long ago. There were not many things which could still surprise him, after all, there was nothing to look for, nothing to long for.

Except, perhaps, for the gentle softness of her lips when he imagined how would they feel against his. Would it be different and refreshing, just like her stories were? Would he still be able to enjoy it? Would the kiss bring out new palette of unnecessary emotions from her fragile heart?

He was never a monster, he told himself. The real monsters were out there, in the world, ready to slay the weaker, the ones of her kind. He would be selfish if he did not offer his help to those in need, if he did not provide the food supplies and wine for people from the Laketown who needed it the most after the terrifying dragon attack. The great serpent was the worst monster walking upon this lands and suddenly Thranduil felt grudge for everyone who dared to compare him to the vicious beast.

The Elvenking was never heartless, not in the moment when he was trying to protect his people from the mindless slaughter the Dwarves suffered in Erebor dozens of years ago, nor when he was ready to fight until his last breath to reclaim the gems of his wife—the last physical memory of her that he could still own. But especially not when he was kneeling on the cold, hard ground on the battlefield, holding the body of the human storyteller to his chest and listening to the silence where once her heartbeat was, the echo of a sword slicing the air where he was supposed to stand still loud in his mind, just like her desperate scream and a pitiful attempt to shield him.

Thranduil was never a monster but he knew better than anyone that he was, instead, a fool.

[loadet851]

Pc Games With Character Creation Offline

Games With Character Customization Pc

Steam Games With Character Creation

One of the things I love most in a RPG (Role-Playing Game) is the possibility of creating my own character with tons of different options and add-ons. I made a research yesterday and found some interesting PC Games I already knew about, adding them to the titles I have or plan to get with the best Character Customization. I’m going to list them here for you guys also attaching a few videos so that you can see directly how they work and what kind of possibilities they offer.

It’s the main reason I enjoy games like Skyrim and Fallout. But there seem to be so few good (single player) games with decent character creation - and not just picking from a few presets. The character creation in Dragon Age: inquisition was amazing (although I struggled to enjoy the game) as well as Saints Row (which I really enjoyed). Addicting Offline Co-op Games For PC You’ll Want To Play. Dennis Patrick / Features / Best Co-op PC Games, Co-op, Cooperative. Sonic the Hedgehog is a staple video game character. Best MMORPG with Character Creation. Final Fantasy 14 has one of the most complex and sophisticated character editors. In this game, you can change the smallest details using different sliders, pick a unique voice, or add unique tattoos, accessories and facial paint. What Are Best RPGs With Character Creation? Role-playing games let us live out some of our greatest fantasies like slaying dragons, saving the world and owning a house. Whether your main character is dead, alive, or somewhere in between, these games will let you adjust your appearance and abilities to however you see fit. I've always loved games that give you the option to create your character before you start in the world. I enjoy the game even more when it has role playing or social aspects added to it, allowing you interact with NPCs, or other players if the game has a multiplayer feature. Just character creation would interest me enough to check any game out.

Follow me under the cut if you’re curious!

I’ve been introduced to this type of creation with a game I still keep in my heart and consider one of the best of all times; The Sims 2. Seriously, I’ve created so many 3D characters that if I could win an award I’d have 200 on my shelf by now.

With that said, here you are my personal list of PC games with their awesome customization in no particular order:

I tried this game myself (the free beta that is) a few times in the past and I swear the CC included in it is currently one of my favorite. Without the complete pack I probably didn’t have a lot of additional options available in terms of clothes, makeup and hair, but what truly mesmerized me at the time was the shaping tool, not yet common in games when they released EVE. You can grab and drag different parts of the head and body, modeling unique characters every time.

2. Black Desert Online

This game has been released recently with two different packages and it seems to be quite a popular MMORPG (Massive(ly) Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game) in Russia and Korea. I’m not surprised considering the quality this game seems to have and its customization is clearly no less. Just like EVE Online, Black Desert offers a good sculpt instrument to shape faces and bodies as much as you like, plus a beautiful variety of colors and combinations.

UPDATE: The game is also available on Steam!

This patch lets you play Legend of Zelda Spirit Tracks with mostly non-touch based controls. The new control bindings are Control Bindings: D-Pad=Run Y+Dpad=Walk B=Wide slash B+Dpad=Long slash Y+B=Spin Attack A=Interact A+Dpad=Roll. Legend of Zelda Spirit Tracks D-Pad Patch This patch implements non-touchscreen controls for essential actions in Legend of Zelda Spirit Tracks. Legend of zelda spirit tracks xenophobia patched rom.

3. Blade&Soul

This is another Asian MMORPG with the classical ‘Anime’ style, you cannot freely reshape the character’s structure, only pick one of the available presets and play around with the sliders to modify the whole body. Andy mckinney molly hatchet. Still, I honestly like the bright colors, the races/classes and the fact that you can actually recreate other existing characters using additional content (just like this guy did with Cloud from Final Fantasy VII).

4. BLESS Online

Yes, another Asian online title. Hey, it’s not my fault if they look so pretty! Bless is quite recent and not yet released in its final stage, but judging by how the CC works you have as much freedom as in EVE or Black Desert and the same unmistakable Fantasy touch.

5. The Sims 4

Didn’t I mention The Sims 2? Well, looks like the latest title in the series has improved quite a lot in this area. The shaping/sculpting method is here as well, considering that we finally have more possibilities I certainly won’t complain!

Note: In this video I can see the woman has a few mods installed. If you decide to get this game (or even the previous chapters) I definitely suggest you to do the same if you don’t like the default character design.

6. Fallout 4

Another recent (and quite famous) game. Apparently you can only work on the face here, but once again we see the sculpt tool in action. Even if the hair options are a bit limited you can still customize your character and create unique features playing around with your cursor.

7. Dragon Age: Inquisition

Who knows me is well aware of the fact that I am completely OBSESSED with this game, thus I couldn’t really leave it out. The hair options are definitely questionable and just like in Fallout 4 you do not have any body morph nor slider to alter, but as you can see from this video example you are still able to personalize your Inquisitor in a good way, also using real people or other characters as reference. To be honest I like some of the default presets too, if you don’t like spending two hours working on a face (I do that all the time, but I am a basket case so please ignore my madness :P), you can pick those and get a good result nonetheless.

And don’t forget about mods! 😉

8. Skyrim (The Elder Scrolls V)

This one has been around for a very long time and it remains probably the top 1 Fantasy game out there. If you’re not into mods at all and want to keep your game vanilla be sure that the overall quality is not as improved as the current generation, you can see that from the low-res hair and general textures. The reason why I’m including this CC in the list anyway is because even if old, Skyrim looks quite good compared to other games where you only get 3/4 slider options.

9. APB Reloaded

The last game I’d like to mention (and I literally just discovered it) is this not so new title which has a kick-ass Character Creator. Not only it shows some quality graphics there, but the level of customization is unbelievable! You can make hair shorter, beards longer, create beautiful tattoos (and place or rotate them wherever you want!), add patterns to clothes and even get your personal car! 😀

Chose one serial + PILIH Salah satu WORKING 99% per 13 Januari 2013 1330-1971-4830-1762 1330-1912-2628-0850-0232-4869 1330-1148-0472-2735-6555-0617 1330-1544-4195-8131-3034-5634 1330-1886-0283-4688-9152-2034 1330-1118-3174-6558-8260-5378 OR 1330-1971-4830-5668-6067-1762 1330-1912-2628-0850-0 232-4869 1330-1148-0472-2735-6555-0617 1330-1544-4195-8131. The serial number for Adobe is available. This release was created for you, eager to use Adobe Cs6 master collection full and without limitations. Our intentions are not to harm Adobe software company but to give the possibility to those who can not pay for any piece of software out there. Adobe cs6 master collection activation key wondershare.

There are of course many other games with a Character Creator, but they all seem pretty similar or not good enough to be mentioned in my list.

What do you think about these? Let me know with a comment if you like!

Those late-night multiplayer sessions can be really fun sometimes. Surely, everything is better with friends, they say and you’ll agree with that at some point. However, after a long day of work and studying, I like to relax with offline games. Sometimes, it’s satisfying to let yourself indulge in a great single-player story and forget about any problems bothering you. So, if you are like me, then welcome to the club! Below is my list of 20 best offline games for PC and I hope you’ll enjoy them.

1. The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt

W2k16 pc download. Well, you’ve guessed it! The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt takes first place on the list with its epic setting, characters, gameplay, and those breathtaking visuals! It’s a compelling game that will offer you more than a hundred hours of non-filler gameplay, and there’s always something to explore. The game looks amazing, and the combat system is great. This open-world title is everything you need on your free days! Combine that with the great RPG elements and fun dialogues with NPCs, and you got yourself a pretty good offline game! Go and play it now, it’s a must-play.

2. Wolfenstein 2: The New Colossus

Wolfenstein series has been once again revived with Wolfenstein 2: The New Colossus. The positive reviews flashed all around the globe, and this game quickly became one of the best shooting games of 2017. B.J Blazkowicz is such a badass protagonist and the characters surrounding the game are interesting. You’ll quickly start to care about each and every one of them, making this game a worthy offline title. Bethesda said that they won’t be focusing on multiplayer, so they can bring an immersive single-player experience. Well, you nailed it, Bethesda; great job!

3. The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

Bethesda is one of my favorite companies when it comes to gaming, at least they were a few years back. A few years back, this masterpiece called The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim was released and it took the Earth by storm! This offline open-world title offers hundreds of hours of exploration and you’ll probably never get bored of it! The combat system might be dated, but it’s damn fun to play and explore every corner of the game. After six years since its release, I’m still eager to give Skyrim another go. It’s that great!

4. Fallout 4

Games With Character Customization Pc

Fallout 4 is one of those top offline games that you either like or dislike. It’s a great single-player experience, as you explore a huge world of fictional city Commonwealth. I mean, the story here is scattered here and there, and our protagonist is in search of his abducted son. However, the game often steers away from that and let you have some freedom and exploration. It’s a fantastic reboot of the series, and it’s surely the best game in the franchise. If you are up for that Stalker-ish feeling, then give this a try!

5. Hitman (2016)

Hitman isn’t a strictly offline game, but I included it because it has a great single-player campaign. While the previous entry in the series Hitman: Absolution relied more on linear, claustrophobic, and confined experience, Hitman (2016) went in a different direction. Here, you’ll experience a vast, open-world with lots of stuff to do. The levels are not that numerous, but they are as big as hell! You can complete your missions in various ways and earn certain rewards and points for doing so. Hitman is a challenging stealth experience, but once Agent 47crawls under your skin, there’s no going back!

Steam Games With Character Creation

6. Nioh

Nioh is a less-known offline game released this year, and I feel like this game is very underrated. It’s a child of Dark Souls and Bloodborne series, which can tell you much about this game. It has a single, crushing, and unforgiving difficulty that will leave you begging for mercy. It’s hard, and you’ll need some blazing fast reflexes and huge gaming skills to finish it. There are more than twenty bosses in the game, and every single boss will kick your ass! Don’t expect to finish this game in a few days; you’ll need weeks to finish it and it will be painfully slow as the bosses shame you every little time… you helpless gamer!

7. Nier: Automata

Another underrated game – Nier: Automata. How could the gaming community overlook this game? Are you blind, or what? This game offers thirty hours of a pure, refined, and amazing experience! It’s a hack-and-slash title that mergers several genres with it. The open world in this game is huge, and the post-apocalyptic environment looks depressing and feels like a void. Nier also introduces RPG elements so you can now level yourself up, upgrade weapons, buy stuff, etc. On top of that, there are some 2D sections that feel like a great platformer, and that’ very unique! Nier: Automata is better than most AAA titles and costs double the less of that price, which is one more reason to get it.

8. Dark Souls 3

Dark Souls series got a fantastic reboot with Dark Souls 3. Just if it wasn’t enough for the previous games in the series, and now we got this punishing game. What can I say? Prepare to die a LOT in this game, as it’s created to kill you. I’m not joking, the whole game is against you, and you can’t do anything about that except fight like a lunatic. Even when you die, the enemies around you respawn and you must fight again and again, which is really frustrating. However, if you have the balls to play it, and manage to finish it, then you deserve a medal, Sir!

9. Bioshock Infinite

Bioshock Infinite is the newest installment in the Bioshock series. This cheap game can give you a huge value for your buck, especially when the Holidays come. I mean, for just a couple of bucks, you can get a fantastic FPS game, which campaign isn’t short and definitely isn’t boring! Bioshock Infinite continues its tradition with great shooting mechanics, various powerups, and that fast-paced shooting in a beautiful environment of the game. Get ready to cause mayhem!

10. Alien: Isolation

Alien: Isolation is that PC offline game that will haunt your dreams every time you try to sleep. It’s a horror game in which you try to stay in one piece and escape that damn space station called Sevastopol. Sounds similar? Well, that’s because the game is based on Alien (1979) movie, which was a very disturbing experience at the time. It’s an intense game that makes your palms sweat and your heart beating so fast that you’ll think it’s gonna come out of your chest! Try this horror if you dare, and watch yourself getting swallowed by the Alien, in a single bite!

11. Far Cry Primal

Elephants are cool, but mammoths are so badass! In Far Cry Primal, you can hunt mammoths and even ride them when you get to higher levels! How cool are you from zero to riding a mammoth? This beautiful-looking game is set 10,000 years BC and no, you aren’t going to shoot guns, but bash the hell out of your enemies. The arsenal of weapons might not be that huge, but the combat is great and requires more thinking, as the enemies are sometimes overwhelming and can easily kill you. If you have the luck to tame a sabertooth tiger, you may survive in this harsh world!

12. Resident Evil 7: Biohazard

There is something special about that claustrophobic feeling, especially when it comes to horror games that you can play without internet. That sense of dread and despair when you don’t have much space to move is priceless. Don’t think of me as a psycho, but I LOVE the horror genre! RE7: Biohazard is a game that caught my attention as soon as it was released. This bad boy will provide you with a horrific experience that will leave you scared to death! As the game plays from the first-person perspective, it’s much easier to get yourself immersed, but also scared.

13. Outlast 2

Outlast 2 is yet another offline horror experience, where the developers decided to leave your powerless. There aren’t weapons for you to use, and surely no means to defend yourself. So, what are you left with? Well, a camera and a journal should do the trick! The game does a damn fine job of melding the horror and the dread with stealth and great storytelling. In the end, you may feel a little let down by the ending, but I know you’ll enjoy it until the very end.

14. Dead Space 3

Cat et 2015a factory password generator. While the past games in the series focused more on that horror experience, Dead Space 3 is more of an action-horror game. Sure, there are Necromorphs and they are vicious and all, but the action part is more prominent. Needless to say that Dead Space 3 is an amazing game and I’m very sad that Visceral Games is closed by EA in October. This survival horror game is hugely underrated, but it’s awesome and I recommend you to play it. It’s just a couple of bucks for this experience, don’t be a niggard!

15. Portal 2

There’s something awesome when it comes to Source Engine. The games made with this engine looks amazing, yet they run smoothly. How did Valve manage to do that? Well, as I am not a game developer, don’t ask me! But ask me about Portal 2, which is Valve’s magnum opus, and a compelling puzzle game. The whole point of the game is to use a Portal gun in order to create portals and pass through them. However, the game isn’t that simple and requires some brain skill to finish it. Grab your Portal Gun, and let’s go on a venture!

16. Limbo

This 2D game is straight-up terrifying, dark, and misanthropic from the start to finish! In Limbo, you are a little boy that needs to survive this colorless world of the game as he overcomes various obstacles and escape scary monsters. I like the game’s artwork and the atmosphere is simply top-notch here if you like the dark ambient in the games. It’s a must-play for every offline Indie games lover!

17. S.T.A.L.K.E.R.: Call of Pripyat

Speaking of the atmosphere, very few great offline games can replicate the atmosphere as it is in S.T.A.L.K.E.R.: Call of Pripyat. That post-apocalyptic atmosphere of Pripyat looks great, and the game isn’t colorful, which is the whole point. Everything has that grey-ish tint, as this town suffered greatly when the Nuclear Powerplant in that area exploded. It’s based on a real-life event that occurred around 1989, which gives the game a certain weight and meaning.

18. Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain

With MGSV: The Phantom Pain, Hideo Kojima proved that he still has what it takes to create such immersive PC games without internet. This stealth game is challenging and full of stuff to do, due to its open-world nature. The characters are badass and the game feels somewhat dark, with a very serious tone. Oh, and not to forget that plot twist at the end that’s worth those thirty hours I’ve spent on this game!

19. SOMA

Horror fans will be pleased that I mentioned another horror title here. SOMA is an absolutely spooky and nerve-wracking experience! It creates that atmosphere that’s very unique, and with the story being told in the shape of various documents scattered through the game, it’s even more badass! You are all alone here and you’ll fight for your life, only to find out that you aren’t actually alive! A truly wonderful offline game for Windows.

20. Superhot

Superhot is a cartoonish-looking offline game that revolves around time. To make it simple, the time in the game moves when you move, so if you are standing still, nothing will happen. Vice Versa, if you are moving and shooting, then the enemies will do the same. It’s a lot of fun, but a lot of challenges too. I played it with some of my favorite death metal albums, just to ensure that I’m hardcore enough to beat it!

As we are approaching near the end of our journey through the offline PC games, I’m here to ask you a question. What is your favorite offline game for PC? I tried my best to count some of my favorite offline games, and although I’m maybe going to start a war for not including some of the games, I stand behind my words. Oh, and why don’t you tell me what game did I miss? Do you have any favorites besides these 20 games? Please, let me know, and don’t forget to do some gaming today!

[destiny-smasher]

My personal 2020 GOTYs

1) Hades

This game, dudes. THIS GAME. A fraction of the budget, a fraction of the dev team size, reportedly HEALTHY development schedule and management...and imo it offers at least some of everything I want out of a single player video game. I have poured over 60 hours into this and I see myself putting in some more over time and ALL of the time I have spent has felt rewarding and edifying. Clever design, smart writing, organic voice acting, sharp gameplay, and all done at a fraction of the resources of these big budget, bloated games. You love to see it.

2) Final Fantasy 7 Remake (Part 1?)

I went into this year not caring much about this game at all. FF7 was a game I played as a teen, enjoyed, respected, and moved on from pretty easily. This Remake, so far, has done more than I could’ve expected in terms of actually REMAKING a game. It’s literally a new adaptation, and I as pleasantly surprised at just how hard it went. From realizing the world of Midgar into something so full of detail and plausibility, to reiterating and doubling down on its postmodern anti-corporation themes, to making Barret the character I loved the MOST somehow?? Combining everything I love about real-time RPG action with a tactical strategy element long missing from the genre, reimagining and fleshing out characters and concepts into something deeper and more meaningful...I’ve never considered myself a huge FF7 fan but this game was really something, and I absolutely cannot wait for more (and praying they do my girl Yuffie justice). I’ve been super skeptical of Nomura as a director given...the mess that has become Kingdom Hearts, but as it turns out, when he has others to reign things in, some surprisingly nuanced stuff for an anime game can come out of it. It has its flaws, to be sure, but it’s still the most enjoyable experience I had with a big budget game this year.

3) The Last of Us Part 2

I feel conflicted over this one in particular - I feel Neil is not longer a director I respect the way I did back with the first game. I feel Naughty Dog is falling victim to all of the late capitalist issues plaguing big budget game dev. But I also love this game. It’s much more flawed than the first, but that’s mainly because it’s more ambitious and complicated. It’s THE most flawed game on this game, honestly, but overall as a game I am compelled to respect its writing, its gutsier decisions, its art direction, acting, presentation, etc. It’s an impressive game and the most technically impressive game I played all year if not all generation. Props where they’re due, but at the same time, I think this game was poorly directed and I love it in spite of issues with its production, rather than because of some strong vision. That’s the big Sony bucks, I suppose, matched with a dev team willing and apparently somehow able to fulfil what they want to create. I still get the impression there was a bit of ‘design by committee for a mainstream audience’ kind of shit going on - how could there not with something this big? - and as a result I think the game is a bit bloated. Shave off about 3-5 hours from a few spots and it’d be a more focused game, and maybe I’d feel more edified and satisfied rather than weirdly conflicted. Even so, a huge accomplishment and I hope to see more games tackle premises as ambitious as this down the road.

4) Bug Fables

This game technically launched last year but it debuted on console in 2020, and I didn’t play it until then. This is as close to a follow-up to old school Paper Mario as it gets, while simultaneously doing a lot to forge its own identity and even improve on the formula presented in the previous games. Its rough around the edges but that’s mainly because it’s an independent game, and it’s amazing just how well the dev team was able to reproduce the scope and details of this specific subgenre of RPG, all while continuously implementing new game design elements and multiple features that make it feel more modern in its direction. Fantastic stuff, I’m still not even finished with it because I’ve been taking my sweet time, though I intend to finally finish it this month, and I have to say, it’s quite a special game in my opinion.

5) Fall Guys: Ultimate Knockout

Absolute banger of a multiplayer game, really love the presentation, the concept, the overall execution, the way the team has been updating the game every month or so in response to feedback and implementing new content. So good to see the battle royale genre FINALLY pushed beyond just...arena shooting. Can’t wait to see where else this game can go over time.

6) Animal Crossing: New Horizons

Somehow this one slipped my mind when I first wrote this up, despite having poured well over 100 hours into it this year. I think part of it is that New Horizons did a lot of things I’ve wanted the series to do for so long, and yet is still far behind in terms of so many other things I wish they would do. Quality of life things prevent me from really re-investing into it, and yet despite that I have to admit it REALLY sucked me in for a solid few weeks and I continued to play off and on for months. It was the perfect game we collectively needed right when it came out and graphically I can’t think of how to really improve on that style. A really relaxing getaway I needed earlier this year, though like with previous AC games, I don’t find myself going back to it as much as I’d think I would.

7) Going Under

A surprise hit for me, this rogue-like swooped in from ‘heh that looks amusing’ to ‘oh wow this is legit just a great game.’ Its weird visuals, funky 3D gameplay, and surprisingly sharp storytelling make for a rogue-like unlike any other and one totally near the top for me.

8) Marvel’s Spider-Man: Miles Morales

Squeezed this in just this past week or so, and this one also satisfied me greatly. I wish we’d see more big budget open-world games like this -- laser focused, not wasting any time, and not being repetitious aside for completionists. So cool to see another team’s take on Miles after how much I fell for Into the Spider-verse, and very glad the team both homages that movie while subverting some expectations fans of the film might have, all while continuing to adapt Insomniac’s take on Spider-Man from a couple years ago.

9) Demon’s Souls (Remake)

As a big fan of FromSoft who never got too far into this one originally, it’s been great to visit it as if it’s a new Souls game with an alternate art style. And a very clean art style it has. This was a good pick to be remastered because many, even FromSoft fans like myself, missed out on it, and it feels unique from its predecessors while still showing a solid foundation they’d go on to build from.

10) Crash Bandicoot 4

An amazingly well done follow-up to the original trilogy, this game GETS what makes old school Crash games good, and it improves upon things in a number of ways, from making Coco the alternate hero, bringing back old faces in new lights, going ham with the visuals both in raw art and unique filters when replaying stages, and giving incentive for completion with so many great costumes. Well done, great old school platforming with modern design sensibilities. 

Honorable Mentions:

CrossCode

This also technically launched before 2020 but I didn’t play it until this year, and I don’t think it hit consoles until this year. I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect going in, just remembering that I had enjoyed the demo well enough. This game delivers in most ways you could want from an indie game, with an expansive world of sidequests and RPG growth, a flexible combat system that can be nailbiting and engaging, and old-school dungeon designs with lots of environmental and elemental puzzles that really ask a lot of you. All of this capped with a surprisingly great narrative with characters I grew to love, including a much needed protagonist with a unique identity unlike any in games that I’ve played, as well as extra bits of detail and production values invested at JUST the right moments where the story needs it the most. It feels a bit tedious at times and part of me wishes more of the sidequest content involved direct interactions with the named, recurring characters, but it’s still one of the most impressive and well-done indie games I’ve ever played.

Katana ZERO

Razor-sharp game design, this one. It’s a brief but intensely focused experience that feels like the video game equivalent of a slick, experimental indie film. Could do with some more replayablity for those who want it but what’s here is just damn good and I gobbled this game down like a fantastic, hand-cooked meal at an atmospheric dive bar barely anyone knows about.

Necrobarista

Haven’t quite finished it yet but this is definitely one of the best visual novels I’ve ever experienced just due to how hard it goes on presentation and pushing for a more cinematic and thoughtful vibe than any other VN I’ve ever experienced. The characters and writing feel ripped out of an early 2000′s webcomic, for better and for worse, but all the same, it’s some fantastic stuff and it’s so refreshing to see a game set in Australia tackling a well-worn genre by giving it a new spin.

Slay the Spire

Another personal pick since this released in 2019, and I’m not quite sure which consoles it hit or when, but I didn’t get into it until early this year, and was totally hooked. Fantastically addictive, probably the most well-design deck-building rogue-like I’ve seen, certainly one of my favorite deck-building games in general. Apparently I’ve sunk 50 hours into it this year, more than most on this list, and I wouldn’t be surprised if that number spikes up again at some point.

[deuce-duce]

Am I...?? (Inwardly GASPS)!! Which Part...??

Today is March 2nd 2021 and I got my puter back and went to look at what I had last written on December 16th 2020. When I opened the file, it had been changed… dates had been obscured and certain things had been reworded… So… I have decided to go back through all of my previous posts to ensure the integrity of what I am writing stays that way! During this process I will be putting together a collection of my favorite quotes and post fragments. Which I will dub Rock and Roll’s Greatest Hits, if you live near me go buy airhorns Ill tell you why, When the greatest hits album comes out. What your about to read is primarily from Dec. 16th with a few changes or should I say… restorations?? Probably a little of both to be honest. Everything is still as it happened, I just add better descriptive words and fine tune the analogies so that they are easier to digest… My English teacher always told me that was what I was good at! Along with many others… who have said the same… not only do I understand it… I’m able to explain it in a way that others understand as well. ENJOY

On the seventh of December I woke up not too sure if something had occurred that night or not… as I have mentioned before they use a numbing agent that basically masks the pain until it wears off approximately 12 hours later… When I a woke on this day I was having moments of clarity and for some reason just couldn’t keep them to myself. talking to one of the staff members of the homeless shelter I expressed my destiny that I actually had one, that was going to bring me to greatness… then out of nowhere I just blurted out there is going to be a power shift!!!! And at that very moment I couldn’t believe what it was that had just come out of my mouth. I didn’t even believe it at first because the guy at the desk was like IDK… about… that… but when I went back into my room, the look on my roommate’s face said it all!! It seems as though those who pull strings and orchestrate a lot of this… put all of their eggs into one basket. I don’t know exactly what the terms of thee bet were but I’m assuming it had/has something to do with me not being able to control my compulsivity associated with my dissociation. Unfortunately for them I made a deal with God. It was while I was on quarantine and even though I was in a basement all by myself people kept F$%^&*!> with me. This is when I prayed stating that I would not falter, for my body his temple his craft and his glory. that I need to take care of myself and my destiny, for it is in his hands and I won’t let my selfishness or imperfections stop him from fulfilling his plan. Over and over again I have cried and cried about how fundamental and powerful this is all going to be. EFFIN CRAZY!! And now that I know without anyone telling me and it literally being given to me somehow is what is freaking everybody out. How do I know or how the hell did I figure it out!! I really couldn’t tell you and the only thing that is possible is that our Creator endowed me with such responsibility. Crazy!! (this was before I considered the probability of God being a woman, A mother, A Lover)

Low and behold one of my favorite artists Mr. Kid, Maniac, Rager, Wizard, Pursuer of Happiness Cudi dropped a new album entitled Man on the MOON Three. Ill have to say it’s a wonderfully made album! The album delves deep into who Scott is… I know the Fans are going to love it.

Rewind a little bit sorry for my hiatus just needed to stay focused and well as your aware have been led here not by accident and had some things that I needed to take care of before I started writing again. Not to mention I have been dealing with a lot only to know that I am who I am for a reason Rockstar Knights off MOTM3 has a lot to say concerning who I am and what I have realized as a result to my struggle. The Song is a collab with Trippie Redd and really encapsulates so much, that its hard to describe in words.

I had a very interesting conversation with my mother the other day and came to a pretty profound thought. 1st I was telling her how I was being told that I am too….!!! Smart!! Like WTF!! REALLY!! Is that even a thing?? But I didn’t let it get to me too much as it probably is the reason I face so much adversity, No matter the community I enter into. This is how I have explained it to her and a couple other people in the community as well as the Rasta Man in the PNW. The best analogy I could present is if a plant with a fire burning so big and so hot on one side of the plant, a fire so big and hot that it probably would kill most other plants, but not this plant. This plant had sooooo much drive and will to live that instead of giving up it grew in the opposite direction of the blaze. While the roots could withstand the blazing inferno becoming one with the heat and pain Upon the journey away from the fire (society) the plant developed different characteristics colors and attributes that no other plant had. Essentially that journey completely changed that plants physiology Psychology and possible its genetic makeup altogether. Now that the plant has grown so far from the fire (Society) that its all alone. Now theres a different kind of fire where he once thought was safe. But as he grows back towards the fire to escape the new blaze (tyranny) he realizes he will never be able to be the same as the fire he grew so far away from. Now the only option the plant has with death being imminent is to grow as big and bright as quickly as possible before it is engulfed on all sides.

All this taken into account along with factoring in the two major belief structures in the world one Being Creation or Evolution (The Big BANG) this plant which has defied all odds still shines brightly displaying its colors and unique characteristics no matter how dark the room may be it still continues to bloom! Is this a Divine will and plan or are we experiencing the next step of Evolution??? My honest opinion is its both! For the mere ability to adapt and change and prevail in situations others couldn’t dream of or even have nightmares about is truly remarkable and in my eyes is an act of GOD! Just as any evolutionary step would be. The crazier part is… he has no handle!! Nothing to grab on to leaving no way for anyone to grab hold and control! AYE….

I thought this all might just be me being stubborn or simply an idiot until for some reason I opened up my meme App. Something I never open or even look at and the first thing that popped up was a picture and quote saying that many told Marilyn Monroe that she was only beautiful because of the clothes and dresses she wore. It then concluded Marilyn Monroe did a photoshoot in nothing but a burlap potato sack. The photos and the message she sent were completely opposite of that which was being said by spectators. Now!! As scrolled to the second meme I was expecting something funny!! That wasn’t the case what I saw next was the upcoming alignment of the two largest planets in the solar system Jupiter and Saturn. Not only does their alignment happen only every 20 years but the proximity of this occurrence to the earth as well as the proximity to each other hasn’t been the same for close to 800 years… What does it all mean… IDK but The Christmas Star is what their calling the alignment and if your familiar with the bible is the star that the kings, from other lands followed  to bring gifts to baby JESUS! Who knows what this alignment could usher in.?

So profound thought comes to me on a daily basis now it’s so strange the way that it comes it will just be momentary thoughts that will pass through my conscience and as they go by I latch on to it delve a little deeper and experience an overwhelming amount of… IDK what to call it but it feels very powerful so much so that it brings me to tears… I don’t know exactly what the future holds but I think that is what makes this so great! I just keep my mind open Like apple IOS Systems letting everything come and go as it pleases when something goes by that strikes me, I latch on and don’t let go. Its weird how it all happens.

Steve Jobs once said that if he had never had an acid trip that he would have never of come up with the operating system for Apple and after explaining to you what I do as a spiritual and destiny seeking process I believe was his thought process as well. This in of itself is what I think they mean when they say to keep an open mind. Just so you know I didn’t come up with that little bit about the late Mr. Jobs by plan it just came to me when thinking about how to have, use and keep an open mind.

The reason I explained this to you was because this is how I Pray! After I pray I sit still with an open mind allowing multiple ideas thoughts and perspectives to pass through my brain… until like an IOS operating system, something speaks to me… when I latch on to it, focus on what it means and what it will mean… “I Get Those Goosebumps Everytime” (Goosebumps, Travis Scott, feat. Kendrick Lamar, Birds in the Trap Sing Mcknight, 2016). This is how you know! A little extra for ya, when I went to look up the info for my first Hip Hop citation it was 11:11 lol there they go again… its really a cool feeling!

Can someone tell me if that APA or MLA…?? Ya know what!! Eff IT!! None of my writing is orthodox, besides I kinda like the way I did it haha

Kid Cudi’s new video just dropped and I couldn’t be more amazed with all of the hidden messages that are in there. He is officially the man on the moon. Passion pain and demon slaying like a maniac on the pursuit of happiness. Love that DUDE!!

That’s all I got for 12-16-2020 Five More Days…

LOVE & PEACE

Songs

Heaven On Earth – Kid Cudi

Goosebumps – Travis Scott, feat. Kendrick Lamar

Dirty Heads – Sound Of Change

 Just so you know the only thing I added this time other the cleaning up what I had already written was the praying part. Although I originally remember that being the purpose as to why I wrote what I did looking at it today March 2nd 2021 it wasn’t there… have a great day everyone. Ill post this on 3/3/2021

I've added parts to the story on my business cards and will leave then random places, what you do with them is up to you but I think It would be cool for those who want to stop me to have to work extra hard just like they make me!!  

LOVE

[dancingkirby]

Finally another Azula Chapter!

Yooooo, I’m all done with the first two acts of the story now!  (Except for editing and adding on any new ideas, that is.)  And, as promised, here is Azula’s second PoV chapter.

WARNING: Non-graphic incest in the first part.

PAST

Flush with the excitement of the rally and freshly scrubbed, Azula was preparing for the audience with Father that she knew was imminent.  It felt good to be back in her armor; the red and pink outfit had been both pretty and practical, but simply didn’t offer the same amount of protection. On the outside, she looked every bit the maiden warrior-princess.  However, her inner layers were not nearly as modest.

Shiza made her patented frown as Azula rejected her usual bindings in favor of Daddy’s favorite pair of lingerie.  Azula was fairly certain that Shiza had known about their secret relationship for some time; it would be hard for her not to since she was the one getting Azula ready most of the time.  However, they appeared to have reached a silent agreement that they would both pretend she didn’t know.

The knocks on the door came at the perfect time, just as Shiza was putting the makeup knife away. So it was Father who wanted to speak with her first, then.

“Are you…will you be all right?” Shiza asked tentatively as Azula turned towards the door. What an odd question.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she replied.  

The throne room was empty save for herself and the Fire Lord…just as it had been when he’d sent her on this mission over three months ago.  Azula stopped a respectful distance away, knelt, and pressed her forehead to the floor.  Even when she raised her head, she remained kneeling with her eyes downcast, only daring to look up when she heard him part the flames.  

“The conqueror of Ba Sing Se,” Father said.

Azula would have liked to bask in the praise, but knew exactly what she was expected to say. She made a noise of demurral before responding, “I would never have been able to do it if I hadn’t had such a wonderful teacher.”

“Indeed,” Father replied, slowly walking down the steps.  His nearness made Azula quake in her boots, and not entirely out of fear. But she couldn’t think about that now.

“And your brother slayed the Avatar,” he continued, tugging on his beard.  “I was surprised.  I didn’t think he had it in him.”

How was she going to make this story believable?

“I didn’t either,” she began, trying to stall for a few seconds to think up the details.  “I was busy fighting the waterbender.  But then the Avatar was preoccupied, and Zuko saw his chance and took it.”  Should she say he used lightning?  No, that would be stretching credulity a bit too much.  “Fire blast straight to the back.  It was so precise and powerful that the Avatar never even knew what hit him.  And if that didn’t kill him instantly, the long fall to the ground certainly did.”

There.  That seemed to be an acceptable enough fudging of the truth.  She didn’t mention that they still hadn’t got official confirmation that the Avatar was actually dead, which was making her a little nervous.

“Wonderful,” Father proclaimed.  The story appeared to have passed his muster, and Azula made an internal sigh of relief.

“I take it that you received my dispatches about the intelligence I gathered?” she inquired.  Father smirked.

“Yes.  They’re planning an invasion during the eclipse. How precious.”

Azula allowed her face to relax the tiniest bit, and said, “I have no doubt that they think they’re the first people to ever try such a thing.  The Earth King sang like a sparrowkeet about their super-secret plans without me even having to try. I wish you’d been there to see for yourself; you would have loved it.”  Those idiots. They would have had increased security measures that day regardless.  

Father gave a shout of laughter so loud and sudden that even Azula was startled.  

“So do I!” he exclaimed.  “But let us discuss that a little later, shall we?  There are other matters I would like to attend to first.”

And just like that, Father became Daddy, and Azula adapted accordingly.  She knew from years of experience how to change her entire demeanor in the blink of an eye.  As she tugged her hair out of its topknot and let it fall freely down her back, she allowed her expression to soften, looking up at Daddy through her eyelashes while biting her lip.  

“What a brilliant idea,” she said, voice changed from formal and measured to almost a purr.  This had exactly the effect on Daddy, who ran over, picked her up, and slung her over his shoulder.

“Ohh,” she whispered into his ear.  “Unhand me, you brute.”

“Do you have any idea how difficult it was for me to find a replacement for you all those months?” Daddy growled as they left the throne room and began what seemed like an unbearably long trip to his rooms.

Azula really didn’t want to think about who might have been her replacement.  Instead, she giggled and said, “I can imagine.”

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

The first time did hurt, a little bit, but that was to be expected, and nothing that Azula couldn’t handle.  The second time, Daddy wasn’t in such of a big rush, so he could help make it feel good for her, too.  After he had been thoroughly satisfied–twice–he was ready to talk strategy again.  Azula always felt a little uneasy when he did this, because she wasn’t sure how to categorize this.  It was sort of in between Father and Daddy; he expected her to be all business when she didn’t have a stitch of clothing on.  

“The Avatar may be dead, but his friends will be out for revenge,” she told Daddy.  “They should not be taken lightly.  The waterbender has improved significantly even in the time I’ve fought against her, and rumor has it that the earthbender has somehow figured out how to bend metal.  If that is true, our bunker is no longer impervious.”

Daddy frowned. “That is unfortunate.  So you think that those two are our biggest threat? We will put the best of the Royal Guard at the main entrance, then, to neutralize them immediately.”

“Actually…no, I don’t think that,” Azula clarified.

“Then who is?”

Azula felt a smile tugging at her lips as she said, “The nonbender boy, believe it or not.  His name is Sokka.  He’s the brains of the group, and apparently the one who, um, figured out how to take down the drill.”  Maybe not the best idea to remind Daddy of that.  She rushed on, “Get into his head, knock him off-balance, and their entire plan will fail.”

“And you believe that you know how to do that?” Daddy asked.

Azula’s smile widened.

“I do,” she said simply.

PRESENT

She was prepared for every eventuality.

Well, maybe not every eventuality.  She supposed that perhaps they would figure out how to make a replica of her drill. Or…or maybe they’d make a giant walking suit of armor that shot energy beams so powerful that they could annihilate anything in their path.

Actually, that last one was an intriguing idea.  She’d have to remember to write that one down later.

But those were exceedingly unlikely scenarios, and she knew it.  Without the Earth Kingdom’s resources, there was no way that they would have the wherewithal to make such powerful weapons.  She was still prepared for every plausible eventuality.

Azula was quite confident that the Avatar and his friends would be heading this way.  War Minister Qin had been instructed to misdirect them, and that was a simple enough task that she thought even he couldn’t mess it up.  Everything was ready.  She had her Dai Li as backup, perched in the rafters. (Really, she wished she could have had Mai and Ty Lee with her as well, but they were sheltering in their own homes.) The past several weeks, Azula had been occupied with perfecting her nonbending fighting and evasion skills.  She’d had Ty Lee give her some pointers, and even considered getting her lover to chi-block her to mimic the effects of the eclipse (all her research indicated that said effects were not pleasant). However, she had ultimately decided against it. That might set an unfortunate precedent, after all.

Speaking of which, she thought that the effects were kicking in now.  It wasn’t so bad if one knew to expect them; mostly a sensation of cold and mild nausea.  Everything was muted this far underground, anyway.

Then…footsteps and shouting outside.  Qin had succeeded in his deception.  She adjusted her posture so she looked exactly the right combination of threatening and casual.  As the doors were blown open with a gust of wind, she smiled.  

“So, you are alive after all,” she said, just as she had rehearsed in the privacy of her bedroom countless times. “I had a hunch that you survived.  But it doesn’t matter.  I’ve known about the invasion for months.”

The look of shock on the trio’s faces (the waterbender girl wasn’t with them; too bad) was quite possibly the most gratifying thing that Azula had seen in her entire life. Did they perhaps think of her as some sort of supernatural entity with psychic powers?  She was happy to let them continue believing that.  The somewhat more mundane truth was, they hadn’t been quite as good as hiding as they thought they were, and she had received intelligence from multiple islands about a group matching their descriptions.

“Where is he? Where’s the Fire Lord?” the Avatar demanded.  Did he honestly think she was going to just tell him?

“Mm.  You mean I’m not good enough for you?  You’re hurting my feelings,” she said as she stood up, letting the barest hint of the voice she used for Daddy seep through.  She would do whatever it took to keep them distracted.

“Stop wasting our time and give use the information,” Sokka demanded, gesturing with his sword.  He’d caught on quickly, just as Azula had expected. “You’re powerless right now, so you’re in no position to refuse.”

Pfft. Look who’s talking.

The earthbender (her name was…Toph?) added, “And stick to the truth.   I’ll be able to tell if you’re lying.”

“Are you sure? I’m a pretty good liar,” Azula answered. Quickly casting around in her head for the most ridiculous statement possible, she said, “I am a four hundred-foot-tall purple platypus bear with pink horns and silver wings.”

It took no effort at all.  Every successful member of the Fire Nation royal family learned to lie almost as soon as they could talk.  When one was in such a high-stakes position, wearing one’s feelings on one’s sleeve could be deadly.  Zuzu had learned that the hard way.  

“…Okay, you’re good, I admit it,” Toph said.  Azula managed to not so much as even flinch as the earthbender trapped her in a column that went up to her chin.  “But you ought to consider telling the truth anyway!”

So far, everything was going exactly according to plan; it was almost too easy.  By Azula’s mental count, about two minutes had passed since the start of the eclipse.  All she had to do was to continue to occupy them for six more.  

Azula and the Dai Li had agreed that the latter would make their presence in the room known as soon as Toph tried earthbending for the first time.  Right on cue, the column binding Azula crumbled into nothing.  Her trio of adversaries looked flabbergasted again; Azula could almost hear them thinking, “Wait…she can earthbend?!”

“When I left Ba Sing Se, I brought home some souvenirs…Dai Li agents!” she explained.

The fight that followed was more an amusement than anything else.  At last, Azula got to show off the results of her extensive practice. No matter what obstacle they might throw at her, she could leap, jump, or flip through it.  It was rather like what she’d always imagined that airbending would feel like; sometimes, she looked at Ty Lee’s gray eyes and wondered.

Finally, Sokka realized how much time had passed, and told the other two to stop attacking.

“She’s just playing with us.  She’s not even trying to win this fight!” he said, a note of panic creeping into his voice.

(If he thought Azula hadn’t noticed how his eyes raked over her body as she flew past him, he was deluding himself.)

“Not true!  I’m giving it my all,” Azula informed him.  Technically, this wasn’t even a lie, since she didn’t specify what “it” was.  They bickered a while longer, accusing her of wasting their time when they were doing a perfectly good job at it themselves.  Then Sokka got them back to their senses again, and the three of them turned and started walking away.

“It’s a trap.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Azula said.  There were only a couple of minutes left in the eclipse now; she doubted that they’d reach Father in time even if they did know the way.  And if they blundered their way into one of the rooms surrounding his…it would not be pleasant for them.

“Ignore!” Sokka urged them as they continued walking.

It was time.  She’d been looking forward to this moment for the whole fight.

“So, Sokka’s your name, right?” she began.  “My favorite prisoner used to mention you all the time.”

He halted, turned his head back to look at her.  She had him.

Azula continued, “She was convinced you were going to come rescue her.  Of course, you never came, and she gave up on you!”  As his face crumpled, she felt a surge of triumph and…something else?

Had she thought that her trick with the dagger was going to work?  Not really.  Things would be more convenient for her that way, of course, but it would have put this part of her plan to a disappointingly premature end.  In any case, Toph disarmed her and threw her against the rough stone wall hard enough that Azula was certain it would leave a nasty bruise, and Sokka had her pinned before she could retaliate.  

“WHERE. IS.  SUKI?!” he snarled.  Oh, did he think that Azula had tortured his little girlfriend?  She was happy for him to continue thinking that.  Father would have used torture, yes, but Azula didn’t see the point of resorting to it when there were other, more subtle ways of getting what she wanted.

She continued to smile down at him, saying nothing, and couldn’t help but notice that his Fire Nation topknot suited him well.  So did that primitive…thing that passed for a military uniform with the Water Tribe barbarians.  That darker blue was definitely his color; he should wear it more often.  

“Where’s Suki?” Sokka repeated, interrupting her musings. “Answer me!”  The Avatar tried to get him to back off, but he didn’t listen. “Where are you keeping her?!”

Azula simply smiled even more.  Making him angry was so…so…wait.  Was that just her feeling the eclipse about to end, or was her body responding to him?  Daddy had had her against walls, many times, and often as enraged as Sokka was now.  That was all it was.  Still…if she managed to take Sokka prisoner as well, maybe she could…

No.  Daddy wouldn’t allow that.  And even if he did, it was a stupid idea.  Thankfully, before her hormones could come up with any further less-than-brilliant schemes, Azula was bailed out by the sound of a large explosion coming from the general direction of Father’s room.  She could feel her own power resurging as well.  

“Oh!  Sounds like the firebending’s back on!” she said in faux-surprise.  She had herself freed within a few seconds, and generously informed her opponents of her father’s location.

Azula felt elated as she ran out of the room.  Her plan had been a complete success; Father would be so happy when he heard.  She didn’t have any time to check in with him, though; she had to hurry onto an airship to make sure the Avatar and his friends got out and stayed out.

…Right after she found a bathroom.

[thetvmoviefan]

Nabrina Fanfics Part 5

Sabrina Spellman & Nicholas Scratch (Nick Scratch) Fanfics MASTERLIST

Updated 8/19/2019

Made a new list of Nabrina Fanfictions for anyone who’s dying for Nick/Sabrina content and waiting for Part 3 and 4 for our very own Power Couple to come back. Some fics are from the old list and some NEW!!! All worth the read and re-reads. 

Anyways ENJOY!!!! 

Fics In order by last Update since 8/19/2019

1. “Lessons in the Unseen” 

Author: bunivy 

Summary: Academy Teachers AU. Sabrina Spellman lives as simple a life as a half-mortal half-witch can. Despite her dislike for the headmaster, she enjoys spending her time teaching Ritual Magic at the Academy of Unseen Arts, hoping to positively shape the minds of young witches and warlocks. However, the sudden dreadful announcement of her aunt Zelda's engagement paired with the appearance of one mysterious - and strikingly handsome - Nicholas Scratch, Sabrina finds that her life is not so simple anymore. Or all that safe. AU - Rated Mature - Chapters 10/? - Last Update 8/19/2019

2. “But The Greatest Is Love” 

Author: sarahkwut

Summary: The acheron captured Lucifer Morningstar, but their problems are far from over. The coven is decimated, the Church of Night is no more, Father Blackwood is on the run, and Nick and Sabrina's relationship is in ruins. How do they pick up the pieces and move on? There are more questions than answers and the consequences could be of biblical proportions. Rated Mature - Chapters 5/? - Last Update 8/18/2019

3. “The Institute for the Divine Craft”

Author: rayo aka @its-nabrina-bitch​

Summary: After a humiliating spat with Father Blackwood pushes Sabrina away from her witching life and the Academy, Madam Satan crafts an alternative solution to move Sabrina Spellman further down the path of night. Ultimately leading her to the Institute for the Divine Craft. A handsome Headmaster with mysterious ties to her father, convinces Sabrina to abandon her mortal life, and cultivate her abilities as a child of the Church of Lucifer. AU - Rated Mature - Chapters 15/? - Last Update 8/10/2019

4. “The Jock”

Author: mikaila_ealum

Summary: An Alternate Universe where Nicholas Scratch is Baxter High’s quarterback along with one of the most popular boys at school. With few knowing the truth, Scratch is living a double life as a warlock at the Academy of Unseen Arts. Sabrina takes a hiatus from the Academy to get more in touch with her mortal side. When Sabrina gets back she becomes partners with Nicholas for a project in theatre class. AU - Not Rated - Chapters 8/? - Last Update 8/7/2019

5. “act 5, scene 2 (thou and i are too wise to woo peaceably)”

Author: ghostemo aka @wickedscratch​

Summary: When Sabrina Spellman rose to a challenge issued by Prudence Night, she never imagined she’d actually make the varsity cheer squad - or that doing so would upend life as she knew it. Now she has to navigate her new role within the social hierarchy of hell -er Baxter High as well as trying to get her boyfriend to actually communicate. It certainly doesn’t help that she’s been paired up with the annoyingly handsome Nicholas Scratch, captain of Greendale’s beloved football team, for a project in her theater class. It’s exactly as, if not more so, cliche as it sounds. AU/AH - Rated Teen - Chapters 3/? - Last Update 7/25/2019

6. “Off The Record”

Author: sarahwut

Summary: AU. Detective Nicholas Scratch left New York for Greendale in desperate need of a change of scenery. The small town takes some getting used to, but local reporter Sabrina Spellman quickly grabs his attention. It's the fresh start he needed until Greendale's residents start turning up dead. With a murderer on the loose, no one is innocent - and anyone might be next. AU/AH - Rated Mature - Chapters 29/29 - Completed 7/22/2019

7. “Bring You Close To Me”

Author: BridgetMcKennitt

Summary: Sabrina and her friends managed to bring Nicholas back from Hell. There was a lot the two of them needed to discuss, but tonight, they had this. Rated Explicit - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 7/13/2019

8. “Be True To Your School”

Author: rayo aka @its-nabrina-bitch​

Summary: Nicholas Scratch is the Golden Boy™ of Baxter High; star athlete, top of his class academically, and devastatingly handsome. Sabrina Spellman sees Sophomore year as an opportunity to expand her horizons; joining the cheerleading squad, running for student council, and making new friends along the way while working to maintain her relationships with her old friends. What Sabrina Spellman doesn't know: sophomore year is about to turn her world upside-down. AU - Rated General - Chapters 3/? - Last Update 7/09/2019

9. “A Brief Moment”

Author: bunivy

Summary: Ever since he's returned from Hell, Nicholas Scratch has been having nightmares. With help from Aunt Hilda, Sabrina unknowingly shows him a light and for a moment, Nicholas knows everything will be okay. Rated General - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 6/24/2019

10. “Jealousy is a Killer” 

Author: Melissa1226

Summary: Will Sabrina and Nick Start something new? and who is watching them from the shadow full of jealousy? Rated Mature - Chapters 7/? - Last Update 6/09/2019

11. “To Hell and Back”

Author: swtnerdgirl

Summary: A year has passed since Sabrina and her friends rescued Nick from Hell. No one came back the same. They all had their scars. Some emotionally. Some physically. In the days leading to Hilda's wedding, they all prepare for their lives to change and heal their wounds. Rated Mature - Chapters 16/? - Last Update 6/06/2019

12. “Dead Witch Walking” 

Author: rayo aka @its-nabrina-bitch​

Summary: Faced with the possibility of being harrowed to death by her classmates, Sabrina finds an escape Rated Explicit - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 5/26/2019

13. “The Hunt” 

Author: OnlyInAutumn

Summary: Nick howled into the night, up at the stars to signify that he was ready on the eve of Lupercalia, the darkness of midnight around them. The first sound of the horn sent them into the forest.The hunt had begun. Rated Explicit - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 5/11/2019

14. “Secrets, Secrets are no Fun” 

Author: filmharlot

Summary: Sabrina is the new kid for the first time in her life. Choosing to go to the Academy full-time seems to be a hard transition than she was expecting. With the Weird Sisters harassment at an all-time high, dealing with leaving her mortal friend's and condescending teachers, Sabrina is suffering. She's not even allowed to have Salem for comfort.It's not all bad though. She is finally free to do magic whenever she wants, and there's a charming warlock who is being particularly nice to her. Plus, someone is leaving kind gifts on her bed at the end of the night. She just wishes she knew who it was. Not Rated - Chapters 1/? - Last Update 5/06/2019

15. “My only love sprung from my only hate”

Author: filmharlot

Summary: High School AU where Nick is based on the version of him that Sabrina creates in her dream during the Batibat episode. Harvey and Sabrina have broken up and don't want to work together on the Romeo and Juliet assignment in Drama class, so she ends up being partners with Nick. AU - Not Rated - Chapters 7/? - Last Update 5/04/2019

16. “Ground Beneath Her Feet” 

Author: mindlesshappy 

Summary: Sabrina is born out of a miracle - one that she wishes would repeat for her, but when she is destined for someone else, how much can she resist before her heart decides to give in. Alternatively, Nick is Sabrina's soulmate, but she really just wants Harvey to be it. Also, in the backseat are all the other possible ships, getting their own soulmate glories. AU - Rated Teen - Chapters 2/? - Last Update 4/30/2019

17. “Unsettled Nighttime Creatures” 

Author: mindlesshappy 

Summary: We all know Sabrina is going to save Nick. This is how Nick reacts to being saved - which, spoilers alert - is like a very stupid warlock. Rated Teen - Chapters 5/5 - Completed 4/25/2019

18. “Selfless” 

Author: sarahwut

Summary: Sabrina Spellman dragged Nicholas Scratch back from Hell. But Hell might be better than a world in which they aren't together. Rated General - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Completed 4/23/2019

19. “Homecoming” 

Author: cherrystems

Summary: After several months Sabrina is able to get Nick back from Hell with the help of her family and friends. However, Nick has to adjust to Earth again while dealing with PTSD and anxiety. This tells the story of the growth of Sabrina and Nick's relationship over the recovery time. Not Rated - Chapters 3/? - Last Update 4/20/2019

20. “Under Your Spell” 

Author: londonmarie

Summary: Sabrina doesn't hesitate to have her Dark Baptism and things go differently. Rated Teen - Chapters 10/? - Last Update 4/18/2019

21. “Photographs” 

Author: Greyowl9831

Summary: It's been at least 150 years since Sabrina signed her name in the Book of the Beast. One day she finds an old photo album. Will the memories it contains be a great walk down memory lane or will it be more than she can bare? Not Rated - Chapters 4/? - Last Update 4/14/2019

22. “An Itch That Needed Scratching”

Author: umbrellacorp

Summary: What if Nick slayed his familiar and Sabrina and Nick got to experience the last night of the Lupercalia festival alone. Tonight, Sabrina would be transformed. Nick was going to show her power that she never knew she had, an innate carnal power. They were about to become the most powerful union of the Church of Night. Rated Explicit - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 4/13/2019

23. “and I keep waiting (but I won’t say I’m waiting)”

Author: lost_n_stereo aka @lost-n-stereo

Summary: You would think that it would hurt less as the days go by, since it’s been nearly two years since Nick sacrificed himself for the greater good and Lilith took him to hell. Except, he didn’t sacrifice himself for the greater good, he sacrificed himself for her. And that makes it a hell of a lot tougher to let go. Rated General - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 4/10/2019

24. "The Four Pictures” 

Author: Copper_16

Summary: It’s been 10 years. Nick and Sabrina are teachers at the Academy along with some familiar faces. It’s been a decade there can’t be that much chaos anymore, right? Wrong. Rated Teen - Chapters 3/? - Last Update 4/09/2019

25. “Fire” 

Author: OnlyInAutumn

Summary: Their power—together—was overwhelming. It was something that she had not felt either, the consuming feeling of expanding power.It was entirely addicting. Rated Mature - Chapters 2/2 - Completed 3/24/2019

26. “something I can believe” 

Author: Anry

Summary: Missing scene after Sabrina's baptism. I wouldn't say that it's really a relationship here, just conversation. Rated General - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 1/25/2019

AND THERE YOU GO!!!!!! 

Make sure you leave love through comments and kudos to these amazing writers for giving all these amazing Nabrina Fics, because without them the hiatus would be much harder. 

So make sure to say how much you love their writing by giving them all the encouragement they deserve through comments or just sharing their stories. If anyone has any other suggestions for the list feel free to message me :).

ENJOY!!!! 

[the-master-cylinder]

SUMMARY King Titus Cromwell and his men land ashore of Tomb Island in search of Xusia of Delos, a long-dead sorcerer who may be the key to overthrowing his rival King Richard, whose land of Ehdan is the richest in the world. Using one of Xusia’s worshipers to awaken him, Cromwell convinces Xusia to join his cause. With the sorcerer’s black magic at his command, Cromwell easily lays waste to Richard’s formidable army.

Eventually, Cromwell becomes eager to be rid of Xusia. Fearing that the sorcerer could turn against him, he attempts to kill Xusia by stabbing him in the chest and chasing him off a cliff. With only one army left to defend the city, King Richard prepares to lead the charge against Cromwell in a last-ditch effort to save Ehdan. He orders his family to evacuate to the river, and entrusts his youngest son Talon with his triple-bladed projectile sword, instructing the boy to avenge his death should it occur.

While searching the corpse-littered battlefield, Talon comes across Mogullen, his father’s closest adviser. Gravely wounded, the old soldier confirms that the battle is lost. At that moment, Talon spies his father in the distance, just seconds before his execution. Enraged, Talon starts off to claim his revenge, but Mogullen warns him that Cromwell will be heading to the river to intercept the queen. Talon desperately races to the river on horseback, but is too late to prevent his mother’s death at Cromwell’s hands. After narrowly surviving an ambush, Talon manages to evade capture and flee from the kingdom.

Eleven years later, Talon returns as a seasoned warrior seeking to avenge his family, even as the sinister Xusia, still very much alive, vows to repay Cromwell for his treachery. In the city of Ehdan, a rebellion has begun under Prince Mikah, son of King Richard’s closest adviser, who many believe to be the rightful heir to the throne. After confirming the final plans with Machelli, Cromwell’s war chancellor (who is secretly a double agent), Mikah relays the news to his sister Alana, but Cromwell suddenly bursts into their hideout and a battle ensues. Although Mikah is captured, Alana flees through the city streets, but is eventually cornered by Cromwell’s men. She is then rescued by Talon, who easily dispatches her assailants.

At a nearby tavern, Alana learns of her brother’s imprisonment and asks Talon to rescue him, along with a faction of rebels who have been recently trapped by Cromwell’s forces. Unable to bribe the lustful mercenary with gold, Alana reluctantly offers herself to him for one night. Satisfied, Talon departs on his mission, but Cromwell’s men arrive shortly thereafter and capture Alana as well.

Successful in freeing the rebels, Talon infiltrates the castle through the sewers and is able to rescue Mikah, but is subsequently detected and captured by Cromwell. After forcing Alana into marriage, Cromwell invites the four neighboring kings to their wedding feast, where he intends to assassinate them with Talon crucified in the dining hall. Before the plot can be carried out, Talon summons the strength to pull himself free of the crucifix, just seconds before the rebels, led by Mikah, storm into the dining hall and overpower Cromwell’s soldiers.

Cromwell attempts to flee the castle with Alana in tow, but Talon intercepts them. Machelli then takes custody of Alana and brings her to the catacombs beneath the castle, where he reveals his true identity as Xusia. Although Cromwell tries to intercede, he is no match for the sorcerer, but Talon is able to resist Xusia’s power long enough to strike him down with his projectile sword. He then engages Cromwell in combat, finally slaying the evil king. Afterwards, Talon saves Alana from a giant constrictor snake, but Xusia suddenly rises again, prompting Talon to finish off the sorcerer with a blade concealed in his gauntlet.

Having no wish to rule the kingdom, Talon yields the crown of Ehdan to Mikah, and Alana honors her commitment to spend one night with her brother’s savior. As Talon and the mercenaries prepare to leave Ehdan, they are approached by Rodrigo, a member of Mikah’s rebellion, who asks to join them. Talon agrees, and the group sets off for another adventure.

DEVELOPMENT The Sword and the Sorcerer,” explains Brandon Chase, producer of the independent fantasy hit. “Our company, Group 1, is a distribution company-it has been for 15 years – and we decided that the picture had the profile of a winner. We decided that if we made a deal with a major, we wouldn’t be able to retain as much money as we would if we distributed it ourselves and gave it that hand-care kind of treatment. With majors you tend to get lost in the shuffle, especially if it’s a movie they don’t know how to sell.”

When Chase first heard of the Sword and the Sorcerer property, the screenplay had already been making the rounds. Chase recalls, “The three guys who put it all together – John Stuckmeyer, Thomas Karnowski and Albert Pyun-had been peddling it for about five years. They’d gone everywhere with it and been turned away. They came up here and we weren’t that thrilled with it either. And then Excalibur came out and we saw the box office numbers on that. We figured that maybe this is a new genre. We pushed the button right after Excalibur.”

The director of this ambitious project was one of the screenwriters, Albert Pyun, a 26 year old who had never directed a feature-length picture before. Chase says Pyun got the call to direct, even though he had little experience, because “he was tied to the project. In other words, they (Pyun, Karnowski and Stuckmeyer) had worked on it all these years and they felt that he should have a shot.” Chase admits he was nervous about trusting such an elaborate property with a first-time director, but even though he had the option of dismissing Pyun at any time he let him stay on. The producer feels that the experienced crew on the picture was able to keep things running smoothly. “Having Joe Mangine as cinematographer, who has directed himself, and guys like George Costello on art direction as well as experienced lighting people to watch over Pyun allowed us to keep him on for the whole picture. It was a unique kind of experience for Pyun, but now, I think, he has some experience behind him, and I think he’s learned a lot from this movie. If he gets another job | think he’ll do a lot better.”

To make the Sword and the Sorcerer, dungeons, costumes and medieval weaponry had to be designed and made, and an extensive array of special effects had to be engineered: the hero wields a tri-bladed sword whose three blades take off like rockets towards their targets; 120 faces come alive on the side of a mausoleum; a chest bursts open; the hands of the sorcerer glow; actor George Maharis reaches up to the top of his head and splits it right down the middle as he speaks. A production of this sort would be a demanding task for a full-scale studio production with tens of millions of dollars at its disposal, let alone for a four-million dollar independent feature. Working within this relatively limited budget the Sword and the Sorcerer team came across with a picture of impressive production value. Chase explains: Unlike the big studios, we’re not locked into certain ways of spending money. We get a lot more up on the screen per dollar.”

Chase’s thoroughness in overseeing every aspect of the picture was crucial to maximizing the production value on The Sword and the Sorcerer. Says Chase, “We made sure that in those areas of vital necessity, such as set design, costume design and cinematography, we had the absolute best people. We don’t say, ‘Go build a set and send us the bill.’ We shop first. We actually hired the individual people to bang the nails into the walls. So it’s just by being very careful, by establishing an attitude overall where money’s not to be wasted. We’ve worked with a lot of the same people before on other pictures – we know how good they are, how fast they are, how conscious they are of the dollar. That makes all the difference in the world. The majors, for example, take twice as long to shoot because they’re involved with numerous unions which we don’t have to become involved with. That causes them to take a lot of extra time and spend a lot of money.”

BEHIND THE SCENES/INTERVIEWS Interview with Director Albert Pyun

How did you initially become attached to direct THE SWORD & THE SORCERER? Albert Pyun: SWORD & THE SORCERER was my conception. It took me 4 years to attach an investor. The same is true for most of my films.

What was the inspiration for THE SWORD AND THE SORCERER? Albert Pyun: It was really influenced by the films I had seen in Japan when I was in the second grade. I would go down to Shibuya and watch historical costume dramas and fairytales. I really enjoyed watching them so I brought those elements into THE SWORD AND THE SORCERER, along with stuff like the Lone Wolf and Baby Cart series.

Was there any reservations at directing such an ambitious film? Albert Pyun: None. After spending a year on the storyboards, I knew exactly what I wanted to do.

The film was extremely imaginative. How did you respond to the challenge to fulfill your vision on a lower budget? Albert Pyun: I had done a lot of commercials, so I had some experience in how to make cheap compromises that looked good. I knew that if I threw as many ideas up on screen in each shot as I could, some of them would come through.

Did producer, Brandon Chase direct any of the film? I notice it says during the opening credits, ‘A Brandon Chase Film’. Albert Pyun: No, he did not direct any portion of the film. Brandon Chase’s company put up the money which gave them control. I was too young to know better.

Despite CONAN being very different, was Milius’s film ever an intimidating factor during the production of TS&TS? Albert Pyun: No intimidation. Communication about who was making what and how was slim in those days, compared to now. I knew the Conan film was in the works and held admiration for Milius. I personally hoped the film would be tremendous and did not realize SWORD & SORCERER was in competition until later.

What are your memories of working with Lee Horsley? Judging by his performance, he seems to have enjoyed himself as the lead, Talon. Albert Pyun: Horsley was terrific. However, the wig gave him a scalp infection. There was too much blood and he hated being put on that cross.

What was it like working with Richard Lynch? Albert Pyun: It was wonderful and inspiring. Richard was intensely creative. He literally spilled over with ideas everyday. He worked hard to make each scene the best it could be. Richard remains one of the most focused and professional actors I have ever worked with. A very gifted, courageous artist. The Sword and the Sorcerer was actually a quite difficult shoot and I was tempted to quit or was threatened with being fired throughout. Richard and Lee Horsely were instrumental in supporting me.

What are your memories of Richard Moll? Judging by his propensity for doing comedy, was he a cut up on set? Albert Pyun: No, he was not comfortable with the makeup and contact lenses. His cornea got scratched when he emerged from the tomb and he was taken to hospital.

Was there a moment that you, or any of the production crew considered not completing the film after the tragedy that befell stuntman, Jack Tyree? I can only imagine what that must have been like. Albert Pyun: We were all terribly shaken and upset. I was not involved in the discussion of what would happen next. I waited with the crew while the decisions were made. It was tragic and it taught me a lesson. I never had another death on one of my sets.

Veteran stuntman Jack Tyree was filming a scene for The Sword and the Sorcerer on the production’s Malibu set in which he was to jump from an 80-foot cliff. He unfortunately landed a few feet away from his landing airbag, causing severe injuries that ultimately cost his life.

The stunt was ultimately left in the film, despite his tragic passing, and the film was dedicated to him. Tyree was 37.

Did Kathleen Bellar have reservations about her characters (tastefully done) nude scene? I am assuming it was a double during the shot where the camera slowly pans over her body as she is being massaged. Albert Pyun: Yes, she had a body double. I don’t remember any discussions or reservations.

What was the initial critical reaction to the film overall? The public seemed very receptive to the film. Albert Pyun: Gene Siskel loved it and Roger Ebert hated it. That’s indicative of the overall critical reception. Fan reception was very enthusiastic and long lasting.

Are there any memories, good or bad, while shooting the picture, that you would like to share? Albert Pyun: I enjoyed the cast very much. As my first experience directing seasoned actors, it was really fun and magical to see them bring the characters to life.

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Interview with Producer Brandon Chase How did you get involved with The Sword and the Sorcerer?

Brandon Chase: Two years before Excalibur, three young guys [director-cowriter Albert Pyun and coproducer-cowriters Tom Karnowski and John Stuckmeyer] came into this office with a fantasy. I was not excited for two reasons: their own moviemaking naiveté and my misgivings about the genre. Excalibur changed my mind. That movie showed there was an untapped audience for the sword-and-sorcery genre. As soon as I saw Excalibur‘s opening grosses. I said, “Let’s go.” There’s always a danger that when something new catches on, everyone will rush to cash in But the logistics of making a movie like this were too complicated for that to happen, and we were ready, to start right away.

How were you able to make a film full of special effects, with a large cast and almost a hundred stunt men, for so little money? Brandon Chase: In pre-production on a movie of this scale, a big studio has up to 150 people. We had 30. The studios have created an overhead charge of 25 percent on every dollar because of their facilities and bureaucracies. Pre-production was crucial for getting this film made for a price. Our art director, George Costello, didn’t just do line drawings, he did dimensional drawings, so that we could work out camera moves weeks in advance.

Richard Lynch Do you think that your performance as the villainous King Titus Cromwell may have been partly responsible for you getting larger roles in the films that followed? Richard Lynch: On The Sword and the Sorcerer, I am going to give all the credit to the director, Albert Pyun. He is a very creative writer. It’s one of his earliest movies, and he was very inventive what he did with film. It was a difficult film to make, by the way; a person was killed on that picture. There were many difficulties working on it. Films run in cycles and that was the year that they came out with Excalibur, and then there were a whole lot of movies that were just like it. Brandon Chase, one of the producers on The Sword and the Sorcerer, decided to make this little movie, and they made a large profit on it. It was the number one top-grossing independent film worldwide that year. My work stood out, and I won a Saturn award from the Academy of Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror.

Is there anything else that you recall about the production of that film? Richard Lynch: The death of Jack Tyree, who was a wonderful stuntman. God, man, that is a heavy thing to remember, but I remember the day it happened. He jumped off a cliff and missed his airbags. It is a dangerous job, stunt work. I will never forget that, it was a very sad event. The other thing was the heat. We shot a lot of it in Riverside, California, and in those costumes, it was boiling.

SPECIAL EFFECTS

The Chiodos proved quick learners and soon landed their first major assignment: creating a crypt of bloody, fleshy, living heads for Sword and the Sorcerer. Steve and Charlie designed and sculpted more than a hundred urethane puppet heads to cover the five panels of animation needed for the film which were worked, as puppets, from behind. “Siskel and Ebert singled it out as the movie’s scariest part,” says Steve. “But there was some problem with the camera that resulted in the sequence not being highlighted enough. The film was on such a tight shooting schedule that there wasn’t enough time to go back and fix it.”

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Greg Cannom provided the special makeups seen in THE SWORD AND THE SORCEROR. Makeup Effects Lab of Hollywood contributed a few “blood and guts” effects –like the black witch’s exploding heart-and Ve Neill did straight and character makeup, as well as burn and torture effects under Cannom’s guidance. Cannom, who created and applied many of the special effects makeups for the THE HOWLING, was able to complete only half of the makeup effects planned for THE SWORD AND THE SORCEROR. His four stages of progressive makeup for demon Xusia are particularly impressive. For Xusia’s first appearance as a “fetus-Buddha,” Cannom made foam pieces to fit actor Richard Moll’s body. The pieces were covered in fake blood by Effects Lab of Hollywood and did not need to be highly detailed.

For Xusia’s next appearance, Cannom sculpted a series of foam appliances that gave Moll an extremely wrinkled visage. Cannom jokingly christened this stage the “LITTLE BIG MAN look,” referring to Dick Smith’s classic old age makeup. The third stage was the re-use again of the molds from the “fetus-Buddha.” without the blood and with detail and coloration visible.

The fourth, and most impressive stage is Xusia’s transformation from a man back into a demon. To achieve this startling effect, Cannom used air bladders a la THE HOWLING, a falsechest oozing a mixture of Kayro syrup and black dye and an elaborate fake head which is literally torn in halfand stripped down the sides of a dummy like a banana peel exposing a puppet head of Xusia.

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CAST/CREW Directed Albert Pyun Writing Credits Tom Karnowski John V. Stuckmeyer  Albert Pyun  

Lee Horsley as Prince Talon Kathleen Beller as Princess Alana Simon MacCorkindale as Prince Mikah George Maharis as Machelli, Cromwell War Chancellor Richard Lynch as Titus Cromwell Richard Moll as Xusia

Makeup Department Allan A. Apone        …       special makeup effects (as Allan Apone) Greg Blocker …       makeup assistant: special effects Greg Cannom         …       special makeup effects (as Gregory Cannom) Anthony Esposito    …       hair designer (as Anthony E. Esposito) Jeff Kinney    …       makeup assistant: special effects Karen Kubeck         …       assistant makeup artist

David B. Miller         …       makeup assistant: special effects (as David Miller) Kenny Myers …       makeup assistant: special effects (as Kenney Myers) Ve Neill         …       head makeup artist Mark Shostrom       …       special makeup effects artist Ronald W. Smith     …       hair stylist (as Ron Smith) Douglas J. White     …       special makeup effects (as Douglas White) Vera Yurtchuk         …       assistant makeup artist

CREDITS/REFERENCES/SOURCES/BIBLIOGRAPHY coolasscinema money-into-light SensCritique looper La Cosa Cine Fantastico Issue #113 rollingstone.com Fangoria#21 Cinefantastique v12n05-06 (1981) Tales from the Cult Film Trenches

The Sword and the Sorcerer (1982) Retrospective SUMMARY King Titus Cromwell and his men land ashore of Tomb Island in search of Xusia of Delos, a long-dead sorcerer who may be the key to overthrowing his rival King Richard, whose land of Ehdan is the richest in the world.

[anatomyandcappuccini]

HOW TO BE READY FOR SEPTEMBER

AND WHY IT IS THE PERFECT MONTH FOR FRESH STARTS

Hey! It’s been a long time since I wrote a master post here... And I’m really sorry about that. I had a pretty busy summer and honestly, I wasn’t that inspired. I barely had time to manage my new studygram (btw it would mean the world if you follow me!!).

However, I’m back now, stronger than ever as I got the opportunity to live tons of new experiences this summer... Good and bad. I learned a lot and I’m grateful for everything this period brought to me.

Now, let’s get to the true subject of this post, which is how to get ready for September!

Why September ?

Because September is a month that I personally love since it means that a new school/uni year will start, and I think it’s the best season to try something new or to switch your routine a bit. I’ve always been better at taking new initiatives in September than for the NYE and I noticed that every year I apply the same kind of ritual. 

We’re in the middle of August right now and I think it’s the best moment to prepare yourself a bit so you can start September in the best way possible :)

I also think you can link this article to a previous one that I consider super important and you can read it here if you haven’t already done it! :) 

Step 1 - Reflect

Take a step back and think about what you did during this last year. If you were at school, think about what you want to get better at, what skills you may want to improve and/or which study method really worked for you and which didn’t. 

Think about your current routine and/or the one you have right now and ask yourself if it will be sustainable once you start school, or how you’ll be able to do it whilst going to school every day. 

This will let you reflect on what you learned during this year, what you’d like to know more of, and what mistakes you may have made. Be thankful for every experience you have faced, and always remember that experiences make you grow as a person. Don’t criticize yourself, don’t judge, just observe, say « thank you » and use this as a way to become more mature and closer to the person you want to be. 

Also, don’t be afraid to be honest with yourself as this “reflection” time will really help you to set up your goals for this new fresh start.

Step 2 - Write down your goals

What do you want to improve? Do you want to start a new routine? Do you want to get rid of a bad habit? Do you want to get better grades in maths? 

Write down everything and be as clear as possible. You can also separate each goal by its specificity. I like to make 3 columns, one for each kind of goal :

My new routine goals : ex. Waking up earlier, eating more home cooked meals, doing homework right after going home, etc.

What I want to stop : biting my nails, neglecting maths, etc.

What I need to maintain : day-by-day planning, studying a little every day, actually reading the textbooks, etc. 

The most important thing is that your goals have to be achievable. Start slowly but surely!! 

Think about how you’re gonna achieve what you want, find new strategies, do some research and/or ask for tips! 

You can also start working on your goals right now so it will be easier once school starts. For example, my goals for September are to be able to wake up earlier, going to the gym more often and also trying to do more meditation. In order to achieve that, I’m already changing my routine because I have a lot of free time so I can “test” this routine and see if I’ll be able to stick to it once I start uni again. I’ll then adjust it in function of how it feels :)

Don’t be afraid to dream big!!

Step 3 - Get into the mood

September means a new start, and new starts mean that you’re allowed to change your environment! Here’s my non-exhaustive list about what you can do :

Review some topics that have to be well known for the incoming year. You’re late with the math program? It’s the best time to get in touch with it again! I know it may be super boring but you’ll be much less stressed when you start the year :)

Download apps and/or buy some books that will be useful for the incoming year! Ask to previous year students what helped them and ask for advice ! You may know super useful tips you never thought of!

Upgrade your studyspace/bedroom (check my article about this!) - it’s like buying new workout clothes : it motivates you much more. I remember when I switched my desk and bed I actually wanted to spend all my free time in my bedroom! 

Buy new stationery - new planners, pens, agendas, notebooks! Of course, don’t buy tons of useless stuff and make sure you’ll actually use them (even if having 10 super cute notebooks seems really tempting :P ) 

Make a September playlist!! I always love doing this, most of the time I add happy and motivating songs so they get me in the best mood ever :D

Make your vision/dream board!! This is the most amusing and creative way to help you visualize your goals! Save images/pictures/quotes that you like, and print them or make a collage and make it your new computer wallpaper or hang them in your bedroom. You just have to put it in a place where you’ll be able to see it every day!! By doing so, you’ll actually wake up every morning seeing your dream board and you’ll start the day feeling more inspired !

Talking about inspiration, I think September is a good moment to get rid of toxic stimulations. We may not notice it but most of us tend to spend a lot of time on social media. I don’t know you but I had a period in my life where I just woke up in the morning and the first thing I would do was checking Instagram and most of the time I fell so upset about my life when I was seeing all the “dreamy” pictures taken by “influencers”. It made me feel so bad that one day I decided to unfollow all these pages that made me feel like crap. For each page/person that you follow on social media, try to ask yourself if it actually inspires you or it just makes you feel bad/anxious about yourself. Unfollow every page that doesn’t bring you anything positive or that is not helping you get motivated. Follow instead pages that support the same things as you and that inspire you to be the best version of yourself!!! Remember P-O-S-I-T-I-V-I-T-Y is the key to success :)

Start a bujo, and plan your year ahead. Write down all due dates, exam dates, vacations and everything you want! Make reading lists, movie lists, new recipes, challenges, etc. I find it to be so practical and also creative. 

Start a new TV show! Since I started this studyblr I discovered Gilmore Girls and I absolutely love it!! It’s really relaxing to watch and Rory Gilmore is definitely my inspiration character haha. Just remember that watching 3 seasons in a row is a bit anti-productive :P 

Get informed about college applications/internships/jobs or everything related to your academic future. It’s always better to be informed soon so you can already prepare yourself.

Start a studyblr/studygram : I found it to be the best source of motivation I’ve ever had. Starting this blog is one of the best decisions I’ve ever made!! This community is honestly amazing and I love how supporting and genuine it is! I find it to be so inspiring and you guys share so many great tips!

So that’s it! I know that you may be very upset that school/uni/work starts soon but you can make this new start more fun! Personally, I always get a bit stressed in September because of the all coming deadlines but following these tips always helped me figure out what I need to do or what habits I need to change in order to SLAY this new academic year :D

I hope these tips will help you and that you’ll have a great fresh start on your first day!

Margot X

STUDYGRAM

[journalxxx]

No Rest for the Wicked (4)

The darkness vanished in overflowing hues of gold, red and pink as the first sunrays appeared. Few thin, non-threatening clouds streaked the sky, promising a wonderfully clear and bright day. All was calm and silent, save for the occasional chirping of the birds and the cheerful burbling of the food in the crockpot. The scent from it was delightful too, exciting like only a simple and hearty breakfast could be for an empty stomach. Between the fire and the hot pots, even the temperature was pleasant, just cool enough to shake off the torpor of sleep and get one into gear for a productive day. Wilson crossed his arms and leaned back against the ice box with a content sigh, focussing all his senses on letting that invigorating atmosphere permeate his very soul. Whether by design or by accident, even the Constant offered its moments of beauty and peace, and one had to be either foolish or heartless not to partake in those rare gifts.

“These eggs are runny. Practically raw.” Maxwell grumbled, poking around the bowl with his crude fork. “It takes some skill to mess up frying an egg.”

“Why don’t you make your own breakfast?”

“Why waste the effort? You’re going to make it for everyone anyway.”

“Now that I think of it, why don’t you make breakfast for everyone? You’re always awake before anyone else anyway.”

“Oh, sure. Why don’t I, on top of taking care of the heavy gathering and the occasional magic necessities, also do the cooking? Why don’t I give everyone back massages and polish their shoes too, while I’m at it?”

“Why do you hover around me and pester me for an early portion, only to complain that it isn’t cooked properly? Intriguing questions, I agree.” Maxwell snorted, and Wilson finally averted his attention from the horizon to consider his unhappy diner’s plate. His whites were a bit transparent, and not nearly the most disgusting or dangerous thing either of them had ever ingested. “Fine, leave that. I’ll give you another.”

Maxwell waited in irreproachable silence for the remaining minute of cooking time, while Wilson finished preparing more meat and proteins than Maxwell himself had in his whole body.

“Oh, by the way, we’re planning to hold a birthday party tonight.” Wilson casually offered, along with the second, piping hot and perfectly executed portion of bacon and eggs.

“A what?”

Maxwell wasn’t exactly the kind of man who wore his heart on his sleeve. However, he had a way of openly displaying few selected emotions, contempt and bewilderment in particular, that could have earned him a living as an actor in the real world. There was something oddly likable in how his whole lanky body bent forwards to deliver an accusatory glance or backwards to highlight the most artificially genuine shock, or in how his features crumpled in disgust or bloomed in deranged amusement, something that inexplicably made one tend to chuckle and humour his curious mannerism rather than mock it.

“Nothing grand, mind you, but I think the kids will appreciate it anyway. They haven’t celebrated it in who knows how long, and this happens to be roughly the time of year they were both born in, so-”

“A birthday party?” Maxwell repeated, still shell shocked by the news. He was even letting his precious second portion get cold. He wasn’t getting a third one, that was for sure. “You do realize that seasons - hell, that time itself is purely ornamental here, right? They aren’t any older than when they arrived!”

“Maybe not physically, but I’d say they’ve certainly grown in other ways. Hardship and death toughen the spirit, don’t they?” Wilson mused, sitting beside Maxwell and claiming the discarded dish for himself. He eagerly shoved a good quarter of its content in his mouth with a single forkful, almost tearing up from how tasty it was. It was the small things in life.

“Don’t go all philosophical on me, it doesn’t suit you.” Maxwell spared him a single judgemental glance before picking at his own food too, thankfully without further complaints. “Besides, we have more urgent things to worry about. It’s almost winter, we have to mend the warmer clothing and make some new thermal stones-”

“The’e ifnt mah two-”

“Were you raised in a barn!? Chew, you animal!” Maxwell unceremoniously pushed Wilson’s head sideways, censoring his regrettable lack of table manners. Wilson doggedly chomped on his food and gulped it down purposefully loudly, ignoring Maxwell’s disgruntled groan.

“There isn’t much that still needs to be done, actually. And we have a huge surplus of food, we may as well put it to good use before it spoils.”

“And, instead of turning it into meat statues or feeding it to the birds or the pigs, you suggest you fools simply stuff your face with it while singing obnoxious tunes near the fire? Have you people learnt nothing at all about resource management?”

“Relax. We’re good on supplies for food and materials, we all have life-giving amulets, neither hounds nor giants will attack for another week, at least. We can afford to take it easy for a single day.”

“Ridiculous. I won’t be taking part to any of this nonsense.”

“Believe it or not, no one was really expecting you to.” Wilson sighed. He helped himself to an extra portion from the crockpot, as a reward for putting up with Maxwell’s charming personality so early in the morning, every morning. “Woodie and Wolfgang have kindly offered to decorate the camp according to the kids’ every whim. Willow will be taking care of the cooking-”

“Oh God, why would you let her do that? She’ll set the whole place on fire-”

“In her own camp. Wickerbottom will keep an eye on her too. She’s objectively the best cook out of all of us, even though her dishes tend to be-”

“Charred.”

“Slightly overcooked. Sometimes.” Wilson patiently corrected. “Are you sure you don’t want to join us? You could use some-”

“I can think of at least half a dozen better things to do with my time, frankly. Including catching fireflies, reading, and being murdered by bats.”

“That is certainly one way you could spend your night, yes.” Wilson absently commented. He eyed his grumpy companion with mix of concern and curiosity. Maxwell wasn’t the most easy-going and jolly fellow even at his best, but usually he wasn’t that unsociable. “You know, I was thinking that you could-”

“Pass.”

Wilson pouted. “Hear me out, at least-”

“No. Whatever you’re thinking of suggesting, no.”

The tempting scent of breakfast was always the best wake-up call in the camp; the low murmurs and rustles coming from the tents informed Wilson that the others would be joining them soon, and by that time Maxwell would have already disappeared. Ordinarily, Wilson wouldn’t dedicate too much mental energy to challenge Maxwell’s rebuttal: the man needed to meet his daily quota of lonely sulking just like air, apparently, and experience had proved that dragging him into forced socialization would only backfire tragically. But that day, Wilson decided, was going to be a good day. A day of merriment and rest and good food and birthday parties, a good day like no one in the Constant had had in ages, and he didn’t want a single, fleeting worry to cross his mind even for a second. He wouldn’t worry about death, he wouldn’t worry about finding a way out, he wouldn’t worry about the Shadows and their throne, and he wouldn’t worry about where the hell Maxwell could be or what could be slaying him at any given moment. He gobbled down the rest of his eggs, eliciting yet another disgusted noise from the object of his current predicament. He put down the plate and casually threw his arm around Maxwell’s shoulders, giving him his widest smile and holding his fork like a cigar, channeling his best impromptu impression of demonic persuasion.

“Listen, pal-”

“I will gouge your eyes out with my bare hands, Higgsbury.”

“You know, death threats lose their edge after being enacted more than 50-60 times. Anyway, I was merely thinking that you may delight us with one of those fascinating shadow shows of yours, like you did on Hallowed Nights. Everyone loved it, especially the kids!”

“Oh, how flattering. I’m being recruited as the court jester. Too bad the mime isn’t here.”

“What mime? Is there a-”

“No. There isn’t.”

“Mh. Too bad. I think you’d make a decent mime yourself, to be fair-”

“YOU TAKE THAT BACK-”

“Whoa, all right, no mimes! But I do wish you performed for us tonight.” Maxwell didn’t reply, and Wilson flashed him a marginally more honest smile. “Do it for the children, at least? You know, the children you kidnapped and likely mentally scarred for life? One of whom is your own flesh and blood-”

“Oh, for the love of - why are you so insistent about this?”

“Because it would be fun! It’s the point of this whole thing, to get everyone’s mind off things and just have fun, for once! And I do mean everyone, including you- don’t give me that look, I saw you last time, you were having a blast with those illusions-”

“Gööd mörning, Wilsön!”

Wigfrid’s fierce salute startled them both, and suddenly a swarm of famished survivors assaulted the steaming pots, in a lively cacophony of greetings and compliments to the chef. Maxwell immediately seized the occasion to weasel out of Wilson’s grasp with the efficient grace of an annoyed cat.

“You’ll think about it, then!” Wilson threw out, somewhat hopeful. He thought he saw Maxwell’s hand waving in response, utterly vague and non-committal, before he disappeared among the tents. Well, it had been worth a try.

Wilson’s day was indeed one he’d later remember with fondness. It had been so long since he had been able to afford the luxury to pour his remarkable inventiveness into purely recreational activities! Crafting decorations and trinkets with no purpose other than making them pleasing to the eye and amusing, with no concern for their durability or their usefulness, was incredibly refreshing. Everyone seemed to be feeling the same, and the camp was soon filled with a playful and gaudy atmosphere that drew laughs and jokes out of anyone who happened to stop by. Time literally flew by as the preparations for the party proved to be just as enjoyable as the main event was going to be. It was dusk before Wilson realized it, with three firepits blazing to light up the whole base and more than a dozen lanterns strategically placed for extra safety and ambience. Willow and Wickerbottom had produced enough delicacies to satiate a whole army, and everything smelled and looked so damnably appetizing that Wickerbottom had to guard the food with a stick to keep rude hands from snagging an early bite: Wilson himself got slapped once on his wrist for trying to steal a butter muffin, and twice on his head for trying to get Chester to commit the heinous deed in his stead.

The official start of the party was signalled by a veritable barrage of firecrackers and applauses for the youngest pair of survivors. In truth, Wendy’s mood didn’t seem to be any better than any other day’s, impervious as she was to any sort of positive emotion, but Wilson considered the fact that she wasn’t openly annoyed by the noise and the celebration of a prolonged lifespan a small victory in itself. Webber, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. Somehow, he had interpreted Wickerbottom’s constructive speech about age and personal growth as an encouragement to share what he had learnt in his hypothetical year in the Constant, starting from a genuinely impressive wrestling technique to be employed against pig warriors. Naturally, that had quickly devolved into playful roughhousing between Webber and Wolfgang, aptly clad in pigskin to better fit the part, and Wilson could only hope it wouldn’t result in too many accidental bruises. He watched in genuine amusement for a while as they tumbled on the ground at a safe distance from the fire, chuckling at Wolfgang’s belligerent oinks and Webber’s boisterous battlecries. Soon, however, Wilson’s enthusiasm started to wane. Not for any particular reason, just… well, Wilson wasn’t exactly a party animal. Noise and abundant company usually entertained him for an hour or so, but it was never long until he automatically gravitated towards the edge of the room and just got lost in his own head, letting the music and the chatter and the people blend in the background as his mind drifted back to that one project he was so invested into. Currently, he was short on idées fixes, so he simply let his eyes wonder. On the food first, yes, he was that base. While Wickerbottom was busy scowling at the brawl, he casually strolled to the table and snatched one of the coveted muffins; he idly munched on it as the little bubble of enthusiasm around the contenders kept sizzling without him.

Eventually, he noticed that Wendy wasn’t among the cheering crowd. He gazed around the camp in concern, but he spotted her soon, sitting at the very edge of the light and rather far from the group, holding her flower in her lap. Beside her, intently observing the unique item, was Maxwell. Wilson hadn’t noticed he had arrived; in fact, he had given up hope he’d even show up soon after he’d made himself scarce at dawn. Wilson couldn’t tell what they were doing: they appeared to be talking only now and then, and very briefly. At one point, Maxwell cupped the flower under his palm; when he removed it, shadows bled from its petals, morphing into copies of the flower itself, tied together and elegantly arranged as a whole garland. Wendy gingerly took it in her hands and studied it carefully, before wearing it. She was smiling.

A sharp cry from the crowd distracted them. Webber was standing victoriously on top of a squealing Wolfgang, dramatically begging for mercy. Neither Maxwell nor Wendy looked especially impressed, but Maxwell smirked when the girl whispered something in his ear. He closed his fist and made an odd gesture, as if he was rolling something between his fingers. He opened his palm, and tiny lumps of shadow plopped down from it, rolling here and there on the ground. They immediately grew small appendages and started crawling towards the group - they were spiders, Wilson realized as soon as they were close enough: not the kind of abominable arachnids that dwelled in the Constant, but the inoffensive earthly sort. Wilson hadn’t seen an ordinary spider in so long that he had almost forgotten they existed, and for some reason the realization made him inordinately nostalgic. How long had he even been away from home? It felt like a lifetime… Well, technically it was. Many, many lifetimes, however brief.

Wilson lost sight of the shadowy critters as they creeped among the crowd, unseen. Wolfgang’s scared yelp, a genuine one this time, made it clear where they were headed, and Wilson rolled his eyes. For all his haughty talk and composure, Maxwell had some rather juvenile tastes on the matter of pranks. Webber, on his part, immediately started collecting the spiders with obvious delight, letting them scuttle freely on his shoulders and head. He was positively adorable, at times. He ran to the dastardly duo as soon as he identified them as the responsibles for the disruption, and the rest of the group spontaneously followed. Maxwell didn’t look particularly happy about the invasion of his little corner of darkish solitude, but he didn’t complain vocally.

Finally, Wickerbottom declared it was time for dinner. Wilson barely managed to shove the rest of the muffin in his mouth before she finished her sentence, half choking in a desperate attempt to erase all incriminating proof. He obligingly waited for everyone else to grab their servings before approaching the banquet with an innocent smile. He was met with no reprimands, but the tight line of the librarian’s mouth made him suspect that he’d be charged with a sizable amount of crockery to wash later.

The feast was absolutely to die for. The loud chatters and laughters were soon replaced by the sound of vigorous chewing and a veritable onslaught of praises for Willow, who kept insisting that the best ingredient in any winning recipe was a fierce, crackling fire under the pot, and possibly around and inside it too.

“We should do this more often, eh?” Wilson heard Woodie comment amidst the other voices. “Lots of us usually eat at the same time, but we rarely do it together. Do you get what I’m saying?”

“You are absolutely right, dear.” Wickerbottom agreed. “It isn’t always easy to find the time and the energy to be properly sociable in this dreary place, but it would undoubtedly do us a world of good.”

“For what purpose? When death will inevitably seize one of us, our bonds will only deepen our suffering and haunt us to our own grave.” Wendy objected, and Wilson didn’t miss the small smile her words elicited on Maxwell’s face. Everyone else remained understandably silent, until Webber, probably used at the girl’s candid morbidity, chimed in as if no one had just exposed the tragic truth of human attachment.

“You know what would make this party even better? A story!” He looked straight at Maxwell, his many eyes shining with the unbridled excitement that only a hopeful child could harbour. If possible, everything went even quieter.

“...You want a story, eh?” Maxwell popped his last honey nugget in his mouth, without looking up from his plate. Suddenly, the old man was the center of everyone’s attention, and Wilson could bet that at least half of the bystanders, including him, were more or less expecting him to single-handedly ruin the evening with some untimely jab or rant. He unhurriedly put down his empty dish, cleaned his hands, and slipped his black gloves on.

“You know, I met a sailor once, just come back from a lengthy trip on the shores of Angola, who told me the tale of a boy just like you.” Maxwell stood up and started pacing in the middle of the rough circle of people, slowly rubbing his hands. Wilson could vaguely spy something coming into existence between Maxwell’s palms, some sort of fine, black mist; it almost looked like the gloves themselves were dissolving into thin air. “Anansi, the boy was called. A bright, mischievous lad, half human and half spider, with a heartfelt craving for stories as well.”

Maxwell waved his left hand with a flourish and a whiff of smoky shadow wafted from his fingers, coalescing into a vague Webber-shaped cloud. The apparition was different from Maxwell’s usual puppets: it was more ethereal, less defined and completely immaterial. Nevertheless, it fluttered and danced around with delightful ease and fluidity, immediately capturing everyone’s gaze and even earning Maxwell a couple of awed ‘Ooooh’. The story, as far as Wilson could tell, was a charming and classic fairytale with an exotic flair: a young boy sent on a quest for dangerous beasts, which he managed to capture against all odds through sheer wit and cunning. Despite the simplicity of its content, the tale positively enraptured the audience thanks to Maxwell’s stunning performance. Characters, monsters, items and even scenery were promptly summoned by Maxwell’s magic as soon as they were mentioned, interacting with each other, phasing through the onlookers and fusing hypnotically. Maxwell himself often stepped out of the circle to leave his creations under the spotlight, only to suddenly jump in again with a dramatic roar to highlight the plot twist. At one point, he even dived face-first into the silhouette of the current villain, brought the lit tip of his cigar to his lips and blew out, reproducing, in all its erupting magnificence, the impressive burst of fire the monster had just spit towards the protagonist. Wilson found himself wishing he had two pairs of eyes, so that he could watch both the shadows and Maxwell at the same time, for they were both spectacular in their own merits. The former King’s hands never stopped moving, his fingers wiggling and flicking as if he was really controlling his shadows via invisible strings. He never stopped pacing either, circling his spectators, drawing bizarre shapes in the air with the smoke arising from his cigar, as if tying his story together with that ephemeral strand. His narration was impeccable as well: he acted out each character’s lines with genuine passion (needless to say, he had a talent for channeling villainous threats and malignant snark), and his low tone and naturally coached voice had an enthralling quality that literally stole the show. When the story came to an end and the triumphant spider boy was promoted to God of the Stories, no less, for his brave deeds, Wilson felt the genuine impulse to join Webber in his enthusiastic request for one more tale. Everyone clapped warmly, and Maxwell dispelled his shadows with one last, wide motion. For the first time in the whole evening, Wilson’s and Maxwell’s eyes met and for a moment, just for a moment, Maxwell’s perfect showmanship seemed to falter: something shifted imperceptibly in his studied confidence and he stopped, briefly holding Wilson’s gaze, before bowing deeply to his audience.

Sadly, Maxwell wasn’t in the mood for an encore, and soon he retreated back to the farthest corner of the camp, away from the mounting buzzing and chit-chat. Wilson graciously allowed him five minutes of respite from human interaction, before deciding to fetch two cups of berry juice and join him there.

“That was amazing.” He sat beside Maxwell and handed him a drink. The other man accepted both the compliment and the juice with a nod. “You really have a knack for this sort of thing. You always look perfectly at ease when you’re in the spotlight.”

“I have been told. You could use developing the same skill, you know. The quality of your stitches is inversely proportional to the number of people observing you while you’re applying them.”

“Ehr, yes, I’m working on that. Speaking of peculiar skills, what’s the deal with that fire-spitting thing you pulled off back there? You can’t actually create fire, right? Because that would have come very handy on a bunch of different occasions-”

“I swear you get more gullible every time the sun rises. No, I can’t spit fire. That was just some basic fire-breathing trick.”

“I guessed so. It was fairly impressive but, if I were you, I wouldn’t have done it with Willow watching. She’s definitely going to try to do that, probably setting the whole camp on fire in the process. And when that happens, I’m going to blame you.”

“Like hell you are! She’s a grown woman, she’s responsible for her own actions.”

“Maybe, but you do have a talent for bringing out the worst in people. Anyway, how come you know how to breathe fire? Do you get a free course when you’re hired as a demon? Does that figure among the key curricular skills devils in training need to acquire?” Maxwell snorted in his drink, and Wilson smiled as well. “Do you have to pass a fire-breathing qualifying examination before you’re deployed to torment mortals? I suppose that demons who can’t properly handle the heat must be fairly damaging to the corporate image-”

“You cheeky sod.” Maxwell burst out laughing heartily. That jovial sound, so rare to hear, warmed something deep within Wilson’s chest. “Sure, why not? If I told you the truth, you wouldn’t believe it anyway.”

“Oh, yeah? Try me.” Wilson grinned, leaning his cheek on his palm and turning face Maxwell fully.

“Mh, let’s see…” Maxwell stroked his chin with a playful smirk. “I’ll give you three options. See if you can figure out the real one.”

“Nothing is ever easy or straightforward with you, is it?”

“Number one: I learned it from my own creations. I simply had to study how the dragonfly harnesses and redirects heat from the atmosphere to grasp the basic mechanism.”

“Mmmh… an intriguing explanation, but a faulty one. You can’t possibly create something functional without knowing or at least guessing how it works beforehands.”

“With just that one sentence, you fully proved your complete ignorance about the very foundations of the magic arts. Anyway, number two: I learned it from an alcoholic, self-proclaimed fakir travelling with a circus in exchange for half a bottle of Port.”

“That’s so ridiculously out there I can’t even imagine how you came up with that.”

“Number three: I never learned it. This was my first attempt ever and I instantly nailed the technique by virtue of my natural, unrestrained talent.”

“...This is stupid. All of these are stupid. You’re just pulling my leg.” Wilson pouted. “You’re right, I’m just going to assume Satan taught you.”

“Suit yourself.” Maxwell chukled, taking another sip.

“What did you use as fuel? Oh, wait-”

“You guessed it. Nightmare fuel, what else?”

“I didn’t see you put it into your mouth though… Where did you keep it?”

“Inside my very soul.”

“Ha! Ha ha! That- that was a joke, right?”

“Oh, I wish.” Maxwell declared with the utmost seriousness, taking a long drag from his cigar like the overly dramatic ass that he was.

“Is nightmare fuel even flammable? I experimented with it a few times, but I never managed to ignite it…”

“It can be, in the right hands. It’s extremely versatile if you know how to use it.”

“Well, that wasn’t an unnecessarily vague or creepy explanation in the slightest.”

“Oh, my apologies. I’d hate to accidentally give you the impression that your onslaught of childish and nosy questions was getting on my nerves.”

“Oh no, you aren’t fooling me, you know?” Wilson waved his finger at Maxwell with a knowing smirk. “You’re in high spirits tonight, no matter how hard you try to hide it. It’s quite telling that you even went as far as to waste some of your oh-so-precious fuel for the sake of our silly entertainment-”

“Mph! I only used few drops for the fire. The shadows didn’t even require any, they were little more than glorified tricks of light-”

“Nevertheless! You had a whale of a time and it showed, and damn if that wasn’t refreshing to see you waltz around like that!”

Maxwell gave Wilson a strange look. “Well, I’m certainly glad that my favorite petulant brat enjoyed the show. And Webber and Wendy too, of course.”

”Hey, no need to be- oh. Ha! See? You’re on fire tonight! With or without fuel.” Maxwell pinched the bridge of his nose with a pained groan, but it wasn’t enough to hide the obvious smile on his lips. “...You know, I’m glad you took up my suggestion. We’ve all been in dire need of a break for a while. Especially the kids, especially considering it’s their birthday-”

“It really isn’t.”

“It probably isn’t.” Wilson conceded. “But what’s the point of surviving just for the sake of surviving, with no real perspective of escape in sight, if we can’t find it in ourselves to enjoy our hard-earned lives?”

Maxwell didn’t reply immediately, regarding Wilson with something awfully similar to concern.

“...Say, is everything all right?”

“Uh? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, you’ve been awfully sentimental lately. And what’s with all this ‘poor kids’ here, ‘poor kids’ there? Where does this misplaced parental solicitude come from?”

“What an asinine question. I’ll give you a pass for not caring about the unjust punishment you’ve served to a bunch of naive adults, but Webber and Wendy, of all people, deserve better than being confined in this dreadful place. They’re just children!”

“Tsk! If you ask me, children are just as selfish as adults, if not worse. They’d literally sell their siblings for a handful of liquorice.”

“Oh come on, how can you be so cynical?”

“I am not, it’s perfectly true. My brother did it twice, and he didn’t even share the sweets. Wretched rascal.”

“Your brother?” Wilson couldn’t help but ask.

“Mm-hm.” Maxwell didn’t notice his surprise immediately, but he did when Wilson kept staring silently at him in mild fascination. He made a face. “What’s that doe-eyed look for? You chewed my head off for having a niece, you already know I have a brother.”

“No, I didn’t! It could have been… a sister… too…” It didn’t sound nearly as silly of a reply in Wilson’s head, truly. And Maxwell’s raised eyebrow did nothing to diminish his rapidly growing embarassment.

“Can’t argue with that airtight logic.” He deadpanned.

“Give me a break! You hardly ever talk about yourself, let alone your family. Sometimes it’s hard to remember you didn’t just burst out of a sulphur mine.”

“I really sold you the demon shtick flawlessly, didn’t I? Hey, and get this - you won’t believe your ears. I had…” He leant towards Wilson cospiratorily, lowering his voice and shielding his mouth with a hand. Wilson felt automatically compelled to draw closer as well. “...A father.”

“...Ha. Ha ha. Hilarious.”

“And a mother too! Astounding, I know. Don’t let the claws and the magic and the devilishly good looks deceive you, I’m 100 percent human, plus another 15 or 20 stemmed from the murkiest depths of darkness itself-”

“Will you stop that?” Wilson giggled despite himself, punching Maxwell on the shoulder. The old man let out a completely unwarranted yelp and leaned away from him, nursing his injured arm with an affronted scowl. Wilson was tempted to call him out on his dramatic reaction, before he remembered that that happened to be the spot where he had administered the injection.

“...Oh, sorry. Is it still sore? It’s been a few days, it should-”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Maxwell ineffectively tried to wave Wilson’s hands away as he prodded the area. “It’s barely noticeable by now.”

As far as Wilson could tell, there weren’t any perceptible swollen or hardened lumps beneath the clothing. “Are you sure? I can have a look at it.”

“You don’t get to act all compassionate and thoughtful after deliberately poisoning me. Hands off.” Maxwell retorted without any real bite, and Wilson raised his hands in surrender. After a beat, Maxwell looked away. “Besides, you have no reason to worry about it. I think there may be some merit to that formula of yours.”

“Really?” Wilson instantly perked up. “Have you been feeling better?”

“Something of the sort, yes.”

“As if you had never died in the first place?”

“Possibly.”

“Yes! I knew it!” Wilson grinned, pumping his fist in triumph. He didn’t let Maxwell’s half-hearted answers mislead him: if he had felt like spontaneously bringing it up, the improvement must have been undeniable. “Now we only need to wait a little more to make sure it won’t have any odd side effects in the long term...”

“Glad to see you’re still expecting me to kick the bucket at any moment. How long will I supposedly be in danger for?”

“Now, I wouldn’t say you’re in ‘danger’… but I’d wait at least a full month before using the medicine on others.”

“Oh, bloody hell.” Maxwell rubbed a hand on his face. Wilson chuckled and patted his back encouragingly.

A comfortable silence stretched between them as Wilson nursed his drink and Maxwell smoked quietly. They watched absently the small but lively crowd from afar, lost in their own thoughts. On moments like those, when Maxwell was in a decent mood, Wilson was honestly glad they had met after the throne. If one managed to grow a liking or at least a tolerance for Maxwell’s cutting humour and his peculiar ways, having him around could be positively invigorating. It could be fun. For all his gratuitous complaining and gloom, he wasn’t one to just sit and let the world kick him the teeth. By hook or by crook, he’d pull himself and anyone he needed together and he’d come through, with a sharp sword and an even sharper grin. On moments like those, when they were virtually alone and their past misgivings didn’t weigh on their minds and their words, Wilson could even take a honest look at himself and contemplate his own feelings without worry. On moments like those, it wasn’t difficult to see all the disquieting thoughts and suspects about the throne’s influence as the overgrown paranoia they actually were, and dismiss them with ease. And when the little tidbits of Maxwell’s past, the unguarded laughs and genuine concern, and even his distinctly British interjections reminded Wilson of how exquisitely human that self-proclaimed fiend actually was, accepting the undeniable affection he felt for the man was as natural as breathing.

“What did they do?”

“Mh?“ Maxwell came down from his own reverie with a surprised puff of smoke. “What? Who?”

“Your parents.”

Maxwell let out a deep, long-suffering sigh. “You have this unfortunate, ingrained habit of mistaking thinly-veiled insults for viable topics of conversation. I didn’t mention my parents because I feel like sharing my life story, I did it to highlight the fact that you’re as dumb as a rock.”

“Oh, I don’t do it by mistake, I assure you. It’s a deliberate choice.” Wilson answered genially. “It’s also basically the only way I can ever talk with you for more than thirty seconds.”

“Lucky me.”

“What about your brother? Who did he sold you to?”

Maxwell flashed him his widest, most disturbing grin. “The Devil, maybe.”

“...All right, I guess I walked into that one.” Wilson rolled his eyes, still smiling as well. A couple of high-pitched cries made them both turn towards the crowd. Wilson couldn’t quite see what was happening back there, but if he had to hazard a guess, Webber was probably testing his fighting skills against Wigfrid, this time. “...Have you thought about what I told you? About trusting the others a bit more?”

“Not really, no.”

“But you must see it’s for the best. Hell, just tonight you had proof of how little it would take you to make a great impression on them. I’m not going to say that now all is forgiven and forgotten just because you put up a fancy magic show, but you can bet everyone will be more friendly with you tomorrow. That’s a start, and it took you no effort at all.”

“That’s an awfully simplistic way of conceiving human interactions, and you’re well aware of it. It’s certainly easy to see everyone in a good light now, with full bellies, warm clothes, good health and relative safety. But when food starts to grow scarce and danger approaches, that’s when people show their true colors.”

“And your solution is to treat them as if they had already betrayed you, without even giving them a chance? Especially when you’re the one who betrayed them? What sort of backwards logic is that?”

“A more cautious one than ‘let’s just hope for the best’, surely. Besides, this whole situation is beyond worrying in and of itself.”

“What do you mean?”

Maxwell’s eyes narrowed, and his tone lowered. “...Do you really see nothing strange in this?”

“In what? What are you talking about?”

“This.” Maxwell made a vague, all-encompassing gesture, including the camp, the survivors, the darkness, everything and nothing. “All this. This… this is all wrong.”

Wilson blinked. He had no idea what Maxwell was referring to, but he sensed it must be something more important than his usual overly dramatic pessimism, so he waited for him to continue.

“Us. All of us. Meeting each other, surviving together, faring so well that we can afford to hold birthday parties, for heaven’s sake. Look at all the statues and the amulets and the piles of food! By now, death has become a mild inconvenience for us, rather than an actual threat. This is a far cry from the hellish experience you’ve had in the Constant when you first arrived, isn’t it?”

“I suppose it is.” Wilson agreed, dimly seeing where Maxwell was heading. Maxwell nervously shook some ash off his cigar.

“There’s a reason why you never stumbled into another living soul during all your travels, and that’s because I made it so. I kept you all accurately separated, I organized the connections between each world you crossed so that none of you would ever meet. Because surviving in pairs or larger groups is easier, both practically and psychologically. And this place was not crafted to make life easier. It’s an instrument of torture, devised to induce exactly as much pain as humans are capable of experiencing.”

Wilson didn’t speak. Maxwell crossed his arms, sulking at the noisy crowd. “And suddenly, within the span of few months, so many of us are reunited in a single place. Not by sheer chance, that’s for sure. Suddenly we’re allowed all this… comfort, company, cheer. It makes no sense.”

“Well, maybe the new Queen is on our side, inasmuch as she can be.” Wilson ventured to say. “You said you knew her, and she freed me from the throne. Maybe she genuinely wants to help us.”

“No, that’s not it.” Maxwell shook his head grimly. “Even if she harboured any sympathy for any of us, which is doubtful, she’d be in no position to favour us so blatantly. They wouldn’t allow it. Nothing happens here without Their permission, and They only care about Their own entertainment, which invariably involves slaughter and suffering.”

“So you’re saying that this is some sort of ploy?” Wilson frowned. “What are you concerned about, exactly? That there may be… I don’t know, a spy in our midst?”

“That is certainly a possibility.”

“Mh… that doesn’t sound right to me. It’s needlessly contrived and time-consuming as a way to torture us.”

“It certainly isn’t something I’d have resorted to… but if I was replaced, I guess They must have been growing bored of my methods to begin with.”

“I thought you got replaced because I bested you in a battle of endurance, stubbornness and wits.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that, if it helps you sleep at night.” Maxwell deadpanned. “Anyway, there are much simpler ways our current arrangement can damage us.”

“How so?”

“What Wendy said earlier is true.” Maxwell shrugged. “Wounds of the soul are much more devastating than those of the flesh. When this idyllic period of peace will inevitably end and corpses will start to pile up, loneliness will be a heavier burden than ever, and loss will only add to its weight. That kind of pain is definitely something I can see Them enjoying.”

“So you think this is only temporary.” Wilson murmured, considering Maxwell’s words carefully. “That it was given to us only to be taken away.”

“That much is obvious. Still, I don’t think that’s quite all there is to it. It’s too much trouble for too little reward. They’re planning something, and I have no idea what it is. I don’t like it.” Maxwell rubbed his eyes slowly. “I don’t like it one bit.”

So much for his day without worries, Wilson thought. He had never really stopped to question which conjunctures might have caused the survivors’ paths to cross, but, as Maxwell put them, they did look suspicious. The thought that he may, possibly soon, be out there on his own all over again, completely alone with his struggles and his hallucinations against a whole, murderous world, was indeed depressing. Yet, for some reason, it was even more depressing to see Maxwell similarly affected by that perspective. Wilson silently considered the other man, all traces of his earlier mirth and lightheartedness gone; suddenly he looked very old and very tired, barely any more alive than the listless shell of a man he had found caged on the throne. Something within Wilson found that simply intolerable. He reached out and gently squeezed Maxwell’s shoulder.

“...Hey, look. There isn’t really any point in catastrophizing. We all know this place is terrible and evil, but that doesn’t mean nothing good can ever come out of it. Look at yourself, you’re free now. That’s an improvement over being bound to the throne, isn’t it?”

“Tough call.” Maxwell replied laconically.

“That’s an improvement.” Wilson declared. “I’m faring better than ever too! I’ve learned a lot, I’m free and in great shape, and I have at least one person I can unhesitatingly rely on, and that’s more-”

“Who?” Maxwell asked, with ridiculously genuine curiosity. Wilson gave him a look. “...Oh, you mean me.”

“No, I meant Chester. Who else, you thick-headed prick!?”

“Sorry, it was the ‘unhesitatingly’ that threw me off. Please continue.”

“And!” Wilson added, and abruptly stood up and walked away. He marched to the table and filled two plates with as much food of as many different varieties as they could hold, and brought them back to their comfortably private corner. He proceeded to refill their bowls to the brim with berry juice as well, and he added those to the heap before sitting down again, while Maxwell kept observing him with a mix of confusion and amusement. “We are currently in the perfect position to build our strength for whatever obstacle They might be planning to throw in our way. So eat up, stay safe and gather comrades.”

“My God, this has to be the most predictable and shallow pep talk I’ve ever heard.”

“Trust me, you just have to tackle the most immediate problems one at a time and don’t let remote fears distract you. Small steps. That’s how I made it all the way to your den.”

“Every time you rub that one victory in my face, you come up with a different reason for it. Last time it was by exercising caution and always having a backup plan, which is just about the opposite of what you just said.”

“That too. And also by being generally better, smarter and stronger than you. I’m just an extraordinary guy all round, when you think about it.” Maxwell snorted. Wilson smiled and held out his bowl of juice. “To peace and prosperity, however long they’ll last?”

Maxwell shook his head, but he was smiling. He lifted his own bowl and clinked against Wilson’s. “To short-sighted optimism.”

“Good enough.”

They drank their juice and enjoyed some more of Willow’s cuisine. It was true, Wilson didn’t have much valuable insight or advice to offer about Maxwell’s worries, but small steps did it, for real. And as of now, managing to turn Maxwell’s frown into a crooked smile felt like a worthy milestone.

“Maxwell!” Webber yelled. “Willow wants you to teach her how to spit fire!”

Wilson sighed. Maxwell, at least, had the decency to look alarmed.

[zdbztumble]

Penultima Raving (KH III Spoilers)

No, I haven’t finished the game yet.

I must be near the end, as I’ve ended up in the crazy windmill world from the opening sequence, but as there was quite a bit that happened in the short span of story progress I made today, I decided against waiting ‘til the finale to do another write-up.

Where I left off last time was Sora piecing himself together - literally - and then proceeding to rescue everyone but Kairi in the various Disney worlds. That Kairi didn’t need rescuing, but was in fact keeping Sora from fading away, and was there to guide him back to the realm of light, was a great idea. The line “you’re safe with me” was wonderful, and a good start to a pay-off on her promise to be the one to keep Sora safe this time. But a great sequence in isolation can’t achieve its full potential impact when the character arc that it’s a part of is so neglected prior to that point. And as for the follow-up to that moment...well, let’s come back to that.

I feel torn here, because there’s quite a bit in this section of the game that’s brilliant in concept and beautiful to look at. If the execution weren’t so spotty, then this post would be much shorter, and much more of a SQUEE! in text form.

Going point by point:

- The cutscene when you enter the Keyblade Graveyard the second time, opening in the same way as the first, was a bit confusing but not a bad idea. But having Terra defend his friends against Terranort was. If I’m just starting to get the hang of how the Xehanort Horcruxes and Sora’s “host to three hearts” business all work, I still can’t figure out how Terra’s heart relates to his possessed body. More importantly - after Sora goes through the hard work of rescuing everyone and turning the clock back, having another character rush in to claim the Hero Moment leaves him feeling like a bystander in his own story. This isn’t a new problem in this level; Sora was a glorified bystander in the two Disney fairy tale worlds. Other characters pointing out how special and important Sora is throughout the game, besides being annoying and actually undermining Sora’s special qualities, make it all the more obvious when he gets left out of important action.

- Surfing the Keyblade stream is fun, but it’d be more fun if the combat didn’t just amount to hitting a single button in rapid succession, and if it wasn’t made confusing as hell with a random shout-out to the mobile game.

- The multiple Demon Towers surrounding all our heroes made for a very dramatic visual and a formidable sense of menace. It’s a shame I never got a chance to see how challenging they actually were, because this entire sequence is left as a cutscene. I imagine there are serious technical challenges to putting together a battle where Mickey, Riku, Aqua, Ven, Kairi, and Axel are all battle partners to you along with Donald and Goofy, but this just makes me think again that a toggling system that let you battle as members of various parties would be a great solution.

On the other hand, this sequence gave us Master Yen Sid casting his Fantasia magic all over the place, and that was a truly unexpected pleasure. I don’t care much for him being a Keyblade Master on top of being a wizard, but seeing him be a wizard was amazing. Now all we need is a Sword in the Stone world where Merlin can cut loose.

- Splitting the party up and leaving Sora to find them in a maze is a great idea, as is pairing enemies that were formidable bosses in their own right together to face him. I didn’t find any of them that much of a challenge, but I think I’m overleveled (spent a bit too much time having fun with the ship battles in the Caribbean, I think.) The bigger problem with these battles was the pacing, with cutscenes interrupting the gameplay entirely too often. Each of the villains is given an almost-identical death sequence, and with pretty much none of them being likable (or even memorable in some cases), the efforts at giving these moments some pathos, and the attempts to create moments between the dying and Sora, all fall flat.

- Did I miss something about there being two Replikus? I have been so confused about this ever since the Big Hero 6 level. The one running around being an evil Organizer was confusing enough, but another one living inside Riku? And being able to spontaneously emerge from his body to neutralize the evil one and leave behind an empty replica for Namine, who is also in this game by the way? The fuck?

- This whole sequence serves as a great illustration of the problems that come with having too big a cast. Terra gets his Hero Moment back in the Graveyard (and virtually the same one in the maze), but he gets written out of the action pretty quick. Aqua and Ven do too, as do Axel, Mickey, Riku, Kairi (still not back to her yet); all the Keyblade Wielders of Light get shoved out of the way rather unceremoniously unless the time for their one brief flash of brilliance (if they even get one), while the bulk of the story is driven by the antagonists. But as I said, the members of Organization XIII are still not very interesting, and there are too many of them for any one to stand out.

- What the fuck is Xion doing back here? She barely made sense as a character in 358/2 Days, but her death was one of the very last to have any sense of permanence, and to give the concept any meaning in this world. That’s now undermined even worse than it already was. On top of that, it seems obvious to me now that all those conversations between Ansem and “Ansem” that I thought might be alluding to Kairi’s part were actually about this blank slate of a character.

- And now we’re back to Kairi.

Xehanort cutting her down didn’t surprise me. I’ve been expecting something like this to happen from early on in the game, though I wasn’t sure whether it would be Sora or Kairi who was killed. In part, this is because I stumbled on some sad fan art that, though lacking any description or anything to tell me that it was a moment from the actual game, was tagged “spoilers” and made me nervous. A bigger tell for me was the fact that most of the Disney movies used have a moment of sacrifice for a loved one. Meg shoves Hercules aside, and Herc in turn offers his life for Meg’s; Eugene gives up his chance to be healed to free Rapunzel from Mother Gothel; Anna rushes forward to take a blow for Elsa; and Tadashi and Baymax both sacrifice themselves in Big Hero 6. At World’s End also sees the lovers Will and Elizabeth cruelly separated by Will’s death, with Jack sacrificing his chance of immortality to give them some measure of happiness.

Between that, and all the taunting by Organization XIII, there was a sense of foreboding early on in my play-through that something was going to happen to Sora and/or Kairi, and for all the missteps in the handling of their relationship over the years, those kids are still cute as hell, so I was emotionally invested. But then, in each of the worlds where a death or sacrifice happens, no connection was made by Sora, or any other character, to him and his bond with Kairi. In previous games, moments of much less importance would set him or someone else off, but not here. In some cases, that makes sense (Sora wouldn’t even be aware of the sacrifices in Big Hero 6) but for those moments that he literally bares witness to, it seemed very strange. While that was something of a relief, as it made any potential death seem less likely, it was also annoying, as I’d given the game credit for selecting worlds with the same thematic idea as a neat bit of foreshadowing that seemed destined to be an unfulfilled coincidence.

Then, when Kairi leads Sora back to the realm of light, Sora has a brief flash of Eugene and Anna’s sacrifices, and the connection was finally made. (Will’s death gets left out of the count for some reason.) It was very little, very late in the game, but it was something, and I started expecting a death again. But this was after the neglect of Kairi’s character and of her relationship with Sora became apparent, and the emotional investment did not return - at least not in full force.

It is rather cliche, killing the heroine (or letting her die) to motivate the hero, but that’s not a reason not to do it if it can serve the story and be executed effectively. Given how important Sora and Kairi are to each other, it’s the ultimate extreme that you can take with their arc. So I can’t object to the idea out of hand. And had Kairi been kept a prominent presence throughout the game and her training as a Keyblade Wielder made apparent and meaningful, her being cut down after demonstrating skill and bravery would have made for an extremely powerful moment.

That’s not what we got.

What we got was everything I objected to in my last post about Kairi, with a vengeance, in this entire section of the game. While I didn’t have the same experience of her being an incompetent battle partner that others have (she even pulled off a quick heal in a pivotal moment), she (and Axel) could have been removed and I wouldn’t have had any more trouble with those bosses. Of all the Seven Lights, Kairi’s consistently the one with the least screen time and the least to do in the cutscenes. The way Xemnas and Xehanort handle her, she’s reduced to a prop, a passive object. And when the moment of slaying comes, it lacks the dramatic flare and emphasis that was given to the deaths of literally every single member of Organization XIII, or to the revivals of Terra and Xion. This - the death of our supposed tritagonist, who is the prime motivating force for our hero and who plays a vital role within this fictional universe as a Princess of Light - is quickly tossed out and moved past.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; this is not about Kairi being a favorite character of mine (until she’s developed more, I can’t call her that.) This is a character who is supposed to be important. Not just important, but central. You can’t maintain the credibility of that idea if you leave this character sidelined for game after game after game, and only ever trot her out for when the plot requires something to happen to her. Again, the moment where Kairi tells Sora “you’re safe with me” is a good moment. Sora’s cry of “why her?” is striking; the implication is, basically, “out of all my friends that you could have killed, she was the one I would choose to save,” and that is a powerful moment. But moments can’t cut it on an arc this important, not after three games disregarded it and this one spent nearly all its time on the convoluted mess of the villains’ scheming.

That no one in the development process of KH III (to say nothing of the games between it and II) ever realized this, or recognized the problems that it would cause at the climax of this, the culmination of the entire series up to this point, is truly baffling, and I can’t imagine that there’s any way that the story can dig itself out of this mess in the short time remaining on the game.

[ckcker]

My Backsplash

The sun was out then for a second was covered and a second later reappeared like a fadeout that gave up, it was enough action to make me look out my window and enough environmental pressure to stick a leg out through my thoughts.  Feeling the way my skin pulled tightly over my face as I often did, I prostrated my nurdlescape wisdom before an inner monologue consumed by detecting evil in the actions or statements of other people. I collected these kind of events, unsure as to what actually is evil but hypervigilant about detecting it, guzzling the inner monologue. It refuses to name the behaviors of others as ‘evil’ because it claims to not believe in a supernatural arena of judgment, but the ‘negative’ behavior it searches for, still, in the part of the body where solutions are emotional, takes on the feeling of experiencing evil. Let’s say this affected communication. The physical-mental feed tube moves so fast, it is hard to grab it, to behead it. Another undetected speed. There should be a word for the period of time in which early users of a new technological device appear insane before the device becomes extremely popular.  

From some rapidly opened crypt came the suggestion, ‘I just feel like it’s time for me to date again, to get out there and meet people,’ a popular summary given by those recovering from a bad romantic calculation. Somehow everyone knew the location of that ‘there,’ and I began to think of it too since I also could say I knew where to access ‘there.’  The ‘out’ was hard, I did not want to go out.  Work forced it and at least gave the ‘out’ a knowable structure, but the other conditions of ‘out there’ shared certain aspects also found in the haunted house portrait with the moving eyes.  And I wanted to be that portrait, steeped in outdated inertia, spraying the room with unacceptable stares, not human but rendered in human form, accepted as a condition of the space.  It was difficult to be noticed against my will.  My apartment, though only on the 2nd floor, still gave me a view of urban space that was elevated, and so I felt a certain amount of reflection-conjuring power when I looked out my window at buildings, businesses, dogs that couldn’t see me, people looking down at their hands, streetlights and building lights in the cruise of twilight and the lights of businesses, and people with bum backs or legs moving temperately down the sidewalk. Even from the 2nd story window I could look at the components of an urban area and feel like I was above it, both subject to its expectations and laws and electric bills as well as the distant surveyor exploiting its pervasive electricity and improvisational arrangements of shapes as the overabused cinematic container for my longings, lunges and literal hurls. My skyline consisted of a hardware store with a parrot living in the front window, a few backyards connected by weed smoke and in the distance a tall supermarket that people said was not organic but had some good organic items, a billboard unpeeled displaying a solution for upside down credit, beyond it all the upper 1/5 of a prominent downtown building that relieved the panic of not knowing what city I was in, and over it all the far away voices of a mentally disabled singing group rehearsing guitar-accompanied pop/rock standards from the last 60 years at the community center catercorner from the dead spider I did not kill lying legs up on my bathroom window sill.  I had seen many things from this window in the brief time I had lived there, I saw a man fall into an abandoned Chipotle once. If one continually expects a problem (aka evil) in the voices and actions of others, always looking for the barbaric silica packet that helps covertly maintain some image of ethical, sensitive, open, accepting person, the ‘out there’ will move on to someone that appreciates it.  How obvious, and difficult to learn when you find your identity drifting towards the high cenobite of backsplash.  

“Slay mignon” I heard Rob say through the apartment door and then a different voice responded with something less interesting, it meant there were at least two people entering Rob’s apartment next door and that they were using a joking tone as they entered.  It was possible to joke around with friends: it was possible to fall into a Chipotle.  The reaction I communicated towards the front wall when I heard the knock on my door was jazzy reluctance (muted terror).  I answered the door, taking in the image of Rob and similarly young friend, who perhaps was trying to rehabilitate the toupee, in the 8:30pm apartment walkway light.  

“How’s it going?”

“Not bad, how are you?”

“Tired.  We’re having a bunch of friends over next door though, to let you know.  I hope it’s not too loud.”

“Oh that’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

“This is my friend Q.C.”

“Hi. Nice to meet you.”

“We’ll try to keep it down. But no promises, hahaha. Feel free to stop by if you want.”

“I mean, not sure what you’re doing tonight, or.”

“Thanks, I. I am just gonna do something low-key tonight I think. Thanks for asking.”

“Ok great. What’re you getting into tonight?”

“Well,”

“Oh sorry, you just kinda answered that.”

“Yeah, I, there’s that new nature documentary everyone is talking about. I’ll probably watch that.”

“Cool.”

I closed the door. I thought of the slightly crooked curtain dowel in the back right frame of a neckplay fetish porn still.  I thought of the crumpled top 1/4 of a straw wrapper on the oak floor of an upscale espresso bar.  One must be brave enough to forge one’s own backsplash. I didn’t know what I meant by that, I looked out my window. The skyline at dusk, I aggressively remembered a time.

I thought, ‘all that’s left is the practical and measured execution of plans I previously laid out under uncontrollable feelings.’  The feelings had passed but the structure of living developed during those de-cablings stuck around.  Now meaning nothing, their former dominance must be honored. I needed extensive plastic surgery asap.  My memory was too personal, gory, smelling of rain-scented incense. I fast walked from my room to a place where a TV played, which joined the space with testimony of a woman who somehow escaped her potential murderer.  She described her final maneuver in warbled tones, we are with her running alone through the California desert at night as she tries to find a road and a passing car.  This type of flashback people might find interesting, there are no cars nearby, her recollection voice was high and childlike.  Though I may stare so hard at my phone to make sure it will forever remember me, I never feel more powerful than when I close my eyes in public.  The story finished with her finally waving down a car on the highway; a couple picked her up and listened to her story in shock, as related by her and by then the killer had disappeared.  

The cool underside air of dusk in July on exposed skin, calm weather re-routing every thought or experience towards a positive conclusion was its own kind of repression: healthy.  It was possible to look at things during the sunset.  Sunset had something to do with the way restricted natural light made faces feel diminished with retreating red and less visible, and the time limit on how long was left for someone to be able to see was enough narrative intensity to leave a scratch in the head, if combined with some other high octane action, for instance walking near a pond with friends and viewing a deer.  I had not spoken with friends in months, I had not told them more than a present location, Missouri. That I lived in the side of the city that is Kansas seemed to be some sort of rotting occult intel that I kept totally to myself.  

I had no intention of watching the new nature documentary everyone was talking about. I decided again to try and experience the city. I closed my apartment door, turned, and, after several steps, read “What is PAIN Music?” typed on top of an unfolded piece of paper. It was lying alone on the roasted teal carpet and thus an object that I could view.  Underneath this title was one full page of description meant to answer the question and define PAIN music; it read:

“Dghdhdfj dfloifkij oifj kidfjg adfupifgj adpoifg adsoif oifj kidfjg adfupifgj Dghdhdfj dfloifkij oifj kidfjg adfupifgj adpoifg adsoif Dghdhdfj dfloifkij oifj kidfjg adfupifgj adpoifg adsoif  oifj kidfjg adfupifgj Dghdhdfj dfloifkij oifj kidfjg adfupifgj adpoifg adsoif oifj kidfjg adfupifgj Dghdhdfj dfloifkij oifj kidfjg adfupifgj adpoifg adsoif oifj kidfjg adfupifgj Dghdhdfj dfloifkij oifj kidfjg adfupifgj adpoifg adsoif Dghdhdfj dfloifkij oifj kidfjg adfupifgj adpoifg adsoif  oifj kidfjg adfupifgj Dghdhdfj dfloifkij oifj kidfjg adfupifgj adpoifg adsoif oifj kidfjg adfupifgj Dghdhdfj dfloifkij oifj kidfjg adfupifgj adpoifg adsoif oifj kidfjg adfupifgj Dghdhdfj dfloifkij oifj kidfjg adfupifgj adpoifg adsoif Dghdhdfj dfloifkij oifj kidfjg adfupifgj adpoifg adsoif  oifj kidfjg adfupifgj Dghdhdfj dfloifkij oifj kidfjg adfupifgj adpoifg adsoif oifj kidfjg adfupifgj Dghdhdfj dfloifkij oifj kidfjg adfupifgj adpoifg adsoif oifj kidfjg adfupifgj Dghdhdfj dfloifkij oifj kidfjg adfupifgj adpoifg adsoif Dghdhdfj dfloifkij oifj kidfjg adfupifgj adpoifg adsoif  oifj kidfjg adfupifgj Dghdhdfj dfloifkij oifj kidfjg adfupifgj adpoifg adsoif oifj kidfjg adfupifgj Dghdhdfj dfloifkij oifj kidfjg adfupifgj adpoifg adsoif oifj kidfjg adfupifgj Dghdhdfj dfloifkij oifj kidfjg adfupifgj adpoifg adsoif Dghdhdfj dfloifkij oifj kidfjg adfupifgj adpoifg adsoif  oifj kidfjg adfupifgj Dghdhdfj dfloifkij oifj kidfjg adfupifgj adpoifg adsoif oifj kidfjg adfupifgj Dghdhdfj dfloifkij oifj kidfjg adfupifgj adpoifg adsoif oifj kidfjg adfupifgj Dghdhdfj dfloifkij oifj kidfjg adfupifgj adpoifg adsoif Dghdhdfj dfloifkij oifj kidfjg adfupifgj adpoifg adsoif  oifj kidfjg adfupifgj Dghdhdfj dfloifkij,” and ended “oifj kidfjg adfupifgj adpoifg adsoif dfpoifgja [poifj apijf.”

What was most clear to me on seeing this text was that I didn’t and would never have any interest in trying to decipher or decode the definition of PAIN music. I did not know if it was even possible.  But I folded it back over and then again and put it in my pocket to walk with me.  

As I moved through the outdoor hallway from my apartment, I brought viewings into my head of the piece of paper, focusing on the detail I had seen in the lower middle-left corner: “The Coolest Music Ever” in dark font and gassy drop shadow.  This was an important clue that I had decided to never interpret or care about.  If the piece of paper had unfolded itself for me and only me, it would not receive the pleasure of my humiliation in tracing its undoubtedly core-tearing motives.  If it was meant to curse me with an assortment of serrated traumas and thus make new life paths available to deflate myself in and then be educated by, I would not meet it halfway to know why.  But I had decided to take it with me anyway, I did not interrogate my reasons for this, and neither did I ask myself why I considered “The Coolest Music Ever” to be an important clue.  Maybe because my days of pursuing an acute pleasure had passed by, had been “completed,” crunched by a mania for self-direction and fully shaved of shallow mysteries, like PAIN music. I had dropped my body parts in the mouth of a man in an empty field during a music festival, I had stared at the uptempo lonely dance music video playing on multiple screens at the club meant for young people and had sopped up the vulgar hypnotism, I had held the funneling friend too drunk at the party to not hear longing in any song with house chords and a gay male vocal. Amicable-disabled, part LARP, marshy, far, bloated as forensic bodies, hanging out menacingly, far away, deciding to try and drive along the spilling highway brush, more drooling light the color of mango and then new sustainable light, white and incapable of drool.

Luckily I have a second set of actions that play out in my mind during an action of my body, lucky for me that no one can read them, though I listen for any distant sound that might indicate a second set of actions in a person standing near me.  As my finger points at a happy hour menu, it also points at my shredded bed sheet that I will never replace.  The sheet that shredded wholly on its own, all it took was a sustained propulsion of my fatefully wound body in sleep over several years to cause a rip and days later a completed tear.  One has dual purposes, sometimes one’s purpose is to lose consciousness and rest the body, while one’s purpose is also to interrupt the body’s rest.  Sometimes one’s mind considers, ‘it would be more illuminating to challenge a command that this be the time for the body to rest.’  Two drinks in, the happy hour is passing and buy one get one free, and the young woman who is bartending has the look of someone reeling in a fantasy.  A cup of hot water fell off the counter and landed on the floor upright yet the black tea bag inside, briefly resembling a violent mid-launch health store fig, whacked against the bar wall with the sonic clarity of a professionally-recorded sound effect. Afterwards, her voice, direct and lifeless, responded when I asked for a lime.  When I opened my mouth very very slightly, my teeth touched each other in a light shake that was uncontrollable. My body did not want to talk, but my mind could not help but announce it was at work.  It caused my jaw to move although there was no content it considered to be worth releasing.  My teeth softly struck each other and it was because my second set of actions were reaching a stealth crescendo; whether a result of the bar music or not I couldn’t tell.  There are certain ways one can react to popular shriveled leprechaun vocalists building up hearts of listeners with irreversible we will hope’s and oooooh, don’t you know?s over simple creamy synth and a delirious light tone. One must pay attention to the background world, it is a dangerous dimension that sprays its mechanisms onto thoughts and senses even if you are in focus and obviously the more interesting subject. Therefore, background music must be monitored at all times. Atrocities incubate under background music, background glances, moments on the way to being busy, sounds on the street on the way back home. 

[mybleachedsoul]

Becoming who we were meant to be - Chapter 1 

My current multi-chaptered ichiruki fic. It’s always available on fanfiction.net if you want to read ahead, but I thought I’d post the first chapter here because we’re in desperate need of some pure IR content in the middle of this whole mess with the origos (sigh). Anyway here it is!

                                             1: Not a good day to die

Ichigo Kurosaki juggles with the pile of textbooks in his hands in a desperate attempt to regain balance and keep the tower standing. He thinks he’s succeeded, until one textbook falls literally in his face, making the rest of the textbook-tower crumble miserably on the ground. Ishida Uryu instantly becomes disappointed in his own lack of logical thinking. Really, he should’ve seen this coming long enough to be able to pull out his cellphone and film it. That would’ve made a great slow-motion montage, he thinks with regret.

“Fucking hell,” Ichigo cusses, staring at the mess he’d made around his feet.

“I would say nice going Kurosaki but honestly I’m not even surprised by your lack of grace anymore,” Uryu hides the amusement that was tickling his lips and pushes his glasses up on his nose.

Ichigo groans in animalistic irritation and bends his knees to start picking up his books, one by one. “Thanks a lot, asshole. Why don’t you help me pick these up instead of bragging like a goddamn princess?”

Uryu puffs air out of his mouth. “Well, since you always insist on the fact that you do not need my help, I’m gonna respectfully decline the offer, thanks.” He puts his hands in his pockets as he looks down at Ichigo.

Ichigo’s eyebrow pops. “Right when I was beginning to think you could do something besides knitting and sewing like a woman…” he mumbles to his friend, carefully getting up with a revisited textbook tower in his arms.

Uryu squints his eyes. He is about to retort when Kurosaki opens his trap again.

“Oh, and while we’re at it,” Ichigo says as he picks up his walking. “Thank you for letting me spend nearly a thousand-fucking-dollars on fancy ass textbooks when you already have all of them peacefully accumulating dust in your dorm room.”

Uryu catches up with him, frown growing heavier by the second. “I need mine in perfect condition, and as you can so clearly see, Kurosaki, you cannot be trusted with such value.”

Ichigo scowls deeply, walking even faster now in the hope of out-running Ishida. Honestly it could easily be possible; the man has the stamina of a morbidly obese Dachshund. Ichigo genuinely wonders how he ever could’ve considered bringing Ishida for his textbook shopping as something other than a terribly bad idea.

Sure, he had decided to change his major at the last minute. Sure, he didn’t know anyone to guide him through this other than four-eyes over here, and sure, maybe he had absolutely no idea what to expect of this medicine program but what the hell, he would’ve been perfectly fine figuring this out on his own.

After all, he’d been accepted into the program with his own grades, hadn’t he?

Not to forget the two years he had spent studying law.

Shit, what a mistake that had been.

The law program had seemed like a decent idea at the time. After spending a year working a part-time job and coaching Karin’s soccer team straight after high school, his dad had urged him to find something he wanted to study. Anything, he said, as long as Ichigo was living his life to the fullest.

And so, he chose law. If he’s being honest, Ichigo still isn’t quite sure why he first chose to go into law major. Perhaps it had been the integrity of it all, or the fact that he felt like, as a lawyer, he would be able to change things for the better. He seemed hopeful, and his dad was proud, though he didn’t say it out loud.

Might’ve been a perfect plan, had it not been so excruciatingly boring.

Reading after reading after reading. Paragraph following paragraph, following another paragraph. It never stopped. He might’ve been able to keep good grades, but for those two years of his life, he had never felt so severely bored and out of place. The only moments of peace he got were when Rukia or Renji showed up, about every month or so, and they would go slay a couple of hollows (a great way to relieve stress, by the way) or just hang out in his dorm or, on a few occasions, in Karakura town.

Ichigo suddenly gets dragged out of his thoughts when they finally reach his new dorm room, one he shares with a complete stranger; a nerdy and shy looking kid.

He throws his keys to Ishida, gesturing for him to unlock the door as he himself is busy carrying the mountain of books, which by the way, weighs a shit ton more than one would think.

As the door finally opens Ichigo barges in and drops all of his ridiculously new and expensive books on the couch. “Fucking finally,” he breathes out in relief.

Ishida comes in, slowly, and looks around. “So, this is your new dorm, huh. Where’s the roommate?”

“Uh, gone I guess.” Ichigo answers. “I only met him once.” He then turns his attention back to his books, beginning to sort them out. Anatomy and Physiology I & II, Diagnostics, Pathology, Pharmacology…and more, way more. How can one need so many books for the very first semester?

“Kurosaki,” Ishida’s voice resonates in the unfortunately small room. There’s a serious tone to it but then again, Ishida is always serious.

“What?” Ichigo snaps at him, but doesn’t turn to make eye-contact.

Ishida doesn’t answer right away, as if hesitating with the choice of words. He wonders if he should even mention it at all, but the words are leaving his mouth before he can stop himself and it’s too late.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

Ichigo stops, just for a moment, then resumes sorting out what he just bought. “Couldn’t have asked me that before I pissed away the content of my bank account?” He asks and Ishida knows there’s no seriousness in his voice, as if this isn’t one of the biggest decisions of his life.

“I’m serious Ichigo,” he continues. “Do you really want to throw yourself in medicine, after telling me again and again how tired you were of studying for your law classes? This program might be even more time-consuming and-“

“You don’t think I know that?” Ichigo cuts his friend suddenly as he swings around 90 degrees, looking at him straight in the eyes. “I don’t know if this is for me, Ishida, but I won’t know until I try.”

Uryu frowns, but barely. “Obviously. I just thought, to be honest, that when you dropped your law major, it was to accept the Seireitei’s offer.”

Ah.

There it is, Ichigo thinks.

Both men stare at each other for a few, weirdly quiet seconds, before Ichigo drops his eyes and sighs heavily. “That was one year ago, Ishida. And I still have no answer to their question,” he replies and doesn’t look at his friend, because he simply cannot.

One year ago, he got a proposal indeed.

The Seireitei were looking for something to add to their forces, to make Soul Society stronger; a way to assure it would never again risk collapsing into nothingness. And they found one. Some were against it, some didn’t think it would be wise, or even enough of an addition to actually strengthen the Gotei 13, but in the end, the Central 46 voted for the project to pass. A project in which they were planning on creating a 14th Division. And obviously, that meant they needed a captain, before anything else.

Apparently, they couldn’t come up with anyone better than him for the job.

Believe it or not.

Anyway, when Rukia and Ukitake-taichou showed up at his doorstep with the proposition, needless to say he was confused, speechless, angry and relieved, all at the same time. He was told to reflect on it, but no matter how many days he’d spent analyzing every single aspect over and over, he only had one and only answer in head, if it even counted as one. His time living in the human world wasn’t over, in fact it was far from being over. He wanted to experience it; live life the way his mom would’ve wanted him to. Soul Society would always be waiting, would something ever happen to him.

He just couldn’t give up on living.

At least not yet.

Rukia understood. Of course, he knew she would. She had always been the one to encourage him to live his life the way he was supposed to; as a human being. And when he’d been talking about it with her, on the Kurosaki residence rooftop, he saw something in her eyes. Something she never allowed the world to see but for a splint of a second, let him witness.

He was human, and he was also Shinigami. He still had the choice to decide which one of those lives he wanted to live. He could even choose to keep living in balance between the two. But Rukia never got to choose. So, when he told her he couldn’t accept, at least not just yet, what else could she do but understand?

The sharp ring of his cell phone pulls him out of his thoughts like a bucket of freezing water thrown in his face.

He sighs, roughly, searches for his phone in his pocket and opens it one quick motion of exasperation. He doesn’t even look for the ID before answering with a not-too-pleased “Hello?”

“Ichigo,” he hears his dad’s low voice on the other line.

“Dad? What’s up,” he asks, turning away from Ishida.

Silence.

“Dad?” he asks again, and feels a twinge of anxiety begin to form in the pit of his stomach. His dad rarely calls him, and when he does he’s yelling his name in his usual craziness, not staying silent.

“Dad,” he says suddenly and louder than before. “What is it?”

“Son, you better come home. You sister…” Isshin sighs, and the heaviness in his voice is clear, and it makes Ichigo’s heart beat fast as he feels cold sweat beginning to form on his back. “Karin… She was in a car accident. It’s bad, Ichigo.”

No.

No.

No, no, no, no, no, no.

Ichigo’s heart stops and he can’t tell if his lungs are still functioning. He doesn’t- What should he- What the hell happened- No- He can’t-

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” his mouth moves on its own and he hangs up the phone before he can hear another word from his father.

He immediately turns around and, checking for his wallet in his pocket, slides out of the room. “Ichigo, wait. What’s going on? Ichigo!” he hears Ishida ask behind him but he can’t answer, and instead, starts running, his legs numb as he heads straight for the train station.

The ER smells like isopropyl alcohol and needles when Ichigo flashes through the automatic doors of Karakura General Hospital. It’s been about two hours since he hung up the phone, back in his dorm room, and hasn’t gotten any news since, except for one text from his dad, telling him they are in room E-15.

Ichigo stops at a reception desk and hears himself asking for room E-15. The lady mumbles and points, and then once again his feet are moving, fast, and his heart pumps hard, filling and hitting his ears.

He passes by many hallways, then catches a thick black E-0 out of the corner of his eyes. He practically runs. E-1…E-3…E-5…E-7…E-9…E-11…E-13… He looks in front of him and-

Thump.

His dad is sitting on a chair in the hallway. His head is low, too low, and his shoulders are slumped down in resignation.

Thump.

He hears someone crying, sobbing, in the room facing his dad, and Ichigo realizes- It’s Yuzu.

Thump.

His father’s arm is resting on his knee, and his hand is curved upwards, as if holding someone’s hand. Ichigo raises his eyes.

Thump.

Karin Kurosaki, standing in front of her father, holds her hand in his own. There are traces of tears on her face and…

…a broken chain anchored in her chest.

Thump.

This isn’t happening, is the only thing Ichigo can think right now. He thinks his legs have given in, but somehow he’s still standing. His ears ring, in a piercingly low frequency. He takes a step forward and his dad lifts his head up just as Karin’s turns, and just like that both of them are looking at him, only…Karin’s eyes are no longer alive.

This isn’t happening. Ichigo feels like screaming and vomiting at the same time, but he cannot speak. Karin smiles at him through her pain, just as another tear falls down her cheek.

“Karin,” he murmurs, and his voice is dry.

He sees her lower lip tremble but she keeps her smile on, as if it’s the only thing preventing her from breaking. He hears another cry, then sees Yuzu come out of a room, room E-15, eyes heavy with tears and misery. “Ichigo,” he hears Yuzu’s voice crack and she runs into his arms, hugging him tight as she sobs, louder and louder.

Ichigo holds his baby sister, the sight of room E-15 finally filling his view and he realizes; he’s too late. There, in a hospital bed lies Karin Kurosaki’s lifeless body.

“She’s hasn’t left her bedside in over three hours,” his voice is hoarse and he basically whispers the words, wind blowing in his face as he stands on a platform outside of the hospital.

“She can only see the edges of her shape, Ichigo. Her reiatsu hasn’t grown since she was eleven.”

Ichigo looks down, and slowly shakes his head. “She’s never going to recover from this, dad.”

Isshin Kurosaki puts his hand on his son’s shoulder. “You’re wrong,” he says. “She will recover, because she knows Karin is not gone.”

Ichigo jerks his father’s hand away. “The human her is,” he says, and he can’t help how sour and raspy he sounds.

Isshin’s eyes soften. “Again, Ichigo, you’re wrong.”

Ichigo grits his teeth. This is unfair, so unfair. He imagines pulling on a brick until it breaks out of place and smashing it on the wall. He sighs abruptly, trying not to give in to anger.

“Did you call Urahara?” he suddenly asks his father.

The man keeps quiet, then shakes his head. “I was waiting for you,” he answers.

Ichigo rubs his eyes with two of his fingers. “Do it. Tell him to send a hell butterfly to Rukia,” he tells Isshin, turning around and entering the hospital building.

Isshin stares at his son’s retrieving figure until he is no longer in sight. He sighs silently and turns back to rest his arms on the metallic fence, eyes looking at the town’s horizon. The sky is charcoal grey and the sun’s almost completely set. He pulls his phone out of his pants pocket and dials.

It picks up after the second ring. “Kisuke,” he says. “It’s me.”

Rukia Kuchiki is sitting at her desk in the 13th Division headquarters, squinting and straining her eyes in her last attempt to read yesterday’s surveillance report. What kind of idiot would write in such an immature and deconstructed hand-writing? As she throws the paper away in frustration, she makes a mental note to find out who those initials belong to. If she can even make out the letters.

“Kuchiki-fukutaichou,” her squad’s ninth seat calls out and slides the door open.

“What is it,” she says coldly. How some people still enter an officer’s room without waiting for permission first is absolutely beyond her. Byakuya would never let something like this slide twice, she thinks.

“A hell butterfly arrived for you, from Urahara-san,” her subordinate tells her and she turns her head to look at him, but only briefly.

“Fine,” Rukia answers. “I’ll look at it once I’m done here.”

“I-It says it’s urgent,” the boy speaks again and this time, when Rukia looks at him her eyes have changed.

After passing through the Senkaimon, Rukia stops and feels for Ichigo’s reiatsu. He’s never been good at controlling his spiritual energy and right now, with what’s happening to his family, she knows it must be all over the place.

She closes her eyes for no more than a few seconds before she finds it and interiorly grabs that distinctive red thread with her hand. She uses shunpo to move, as fast as she can, again and again until she knows he’s close, and suddenly her feet are touching grass and she’s standing in a forest.

“Rukia,” she hears Ichigo murmur her name and she turns around. She meets his gaze, and lets out a breath as she instantly recognizes what she sees in his eyes. His amber eyes, usually so bright and vivid, are now faded into emptiness. Sober of the fire that makes them so driven and alive. With just one look she knows; he is defeated.

Therefore, she looks back at him, silently communicating in a sea of regret and understanding. This is the only way she can let him know. I’m here for you. For all of you.

Rukia walks foward and notices Isshin and Yuzu, a few feet behind Ichigo. She can practically hear Isshin’s gratitude emanating from the look he gives her, soundlessly saying Thank you. Rukia stays silent. Yuzu is clinging to her father as if her legs can no longer hold her weight. She isn’t looking towards her, in fact she isn’t looking at anything, and the expression on her face seems dazed and disconsolate. Rukia can only begin to imagine…what sort of pain she is going through.

That’s when she finally sees, away on the other side of a tree, Karin’s wandering soul. She’s already looking at her with her arms crossed on her chest and the attempt of a smile on her lips, as if trying to lessen the heaviness of the situation.

“Rukia,” Ichigo speaks her name again, breaking the silence. “I’ll do it,” he says and she doesn’t need anything more to know he’s talking about Konso. She turns to look at him and notices he is in his Shinigami attire; not in his human body. She nods and he continues. “Karin and I just had questions first.”

“Anything,” Rukia answers, turning back to nod at Karin.

Ichigo walks a few steps forward until once again, he enters her field of vision. “She’ll be sent to Rukongai,” he says as a statement. “There’s absolutely no way to know exactly where, right?” he asks and he already knows the answer, but can’t help asking anyway.

Rukia looks down, but barely for a second. “Unfortunately, no,” she turns to Karin. “Once we proceed with Konso, the soul finds its way to Rukongai, but the district is completely random.”

Karin nods, and somehow manages to pull up the strength to look at her brother with certitude. “I’ll be fine, Ichigo.”

He sighs harshly in response. “You don’t understand, Karin. Rukongai is made of 340 districts divided into four sections. If you somehow find yourself stuck in the lower ones, you’ll have to fight for your life.”

Karin’s pupils constrict. “I know, Ichigo. I’m not eleven anymore, and I’m in shape. I told you, I’ll be fine.”

Fuck, Ichigo almost hisses but manages to keep it in.

“Your reiatsu is high, compared to the average soul in Rukongai,” Rukia cuts in just in time. “We’ll have soldiers looking for you as much as possible.”

“I’m going too,” Ichigo adds. “I know how your reiatsu feels like, Karin. I might be able to find you faster.”

For a second Rukia thinks Karin is about to open her mouth, but she stops and nods instead.

“Will I…” Karin whispers, and Rukia notices she is now hugging her arms. “Will I remember…” She doesn’t finish her sentence but it isn’t necessary. Will I remember my life? Will I remember who I am? The words echo in her head.

“Some don’t,” Rukia answers in a low voice, eyes fixated on the ground. She swallows and for a moment, remains silent. She lifts her eyes back up and this time her voice is louder. “But some do.” She doesn’t say anything more. She knows, for Ichigo and his family, that the possibility hurts too much to even consider.

“Dad, what’s going on? I can barely hear anything…” Rukia suddenly hears Yuzu’s small voice and feels chills going down her spine at the desolation of it. She turns around slightly, and meets Isshin’s eyes. “It’s okay, honey,” he tells his daughter. “They’re just talking.”  

“How long has it been?” Rukia suddenly asks Ichigo.

He frowns slightly, most likely out of habit. “A few hours,” he answers. “Hollows have already felt her spiritual pressure, I had to kill two of them.”

Rukia nods slowly. “We shouldn’t wait too long before it draws out more,” she murmurs, and Ichigo knows she’s right.

They both look towards Isshin, to which he nods once. “It’s time, Yuzu.”

“I need to talk to her, just the two of us,” the blonde chokes out, wiping away a few tears that escaped. “Even if I can’t hear her that’s okay, she just has to listen to what I say.”

Karin takes a painful breath in before the twins move away from them, over to a quiet and hidden place behind a few trees. Karin puts her hand in her sister’s hand, even though Yuzu cannot see it.

“Ichigo,” Isshin speaks after making sure his daughters are out of sight. “Once you find her, come back and we’ll-“

“I’m not coming back,” Ichigo interrupts his father. When Isshin stares at him with wide eyes, he grits his teeth and continues. “No way in hell I’m leaving her alone over there.”

“Ichigo…” Rukia whispers but Ichigo yet again steps in.

“Don’t. I’m telling you, both of you, I’m not leaving her alone. I’ll figure something out.”

They both give in to silence. Really, Rukia knows there’s nothing she can say or do that’ll get to him. And his father probably knows that too, which is why all he does is sigh and nod as he closes his eyes.

The twins come back, Karin walking silently behind Yuzu, traces of tears down her cheeks. How unimaginably agonizing it must be not to be able to say goodbye to the one person you have shared everything with… Rukia swallows and feels her chest squeeze and she’s hurting, so much so for these people she has grown to know like a part of her family.

Karin walks in front of her father and hugs him. “I love you, dad. Please take good care of her… And tell her how much I love her,” she says, then smiles at him. “Tell her not to worry about me, I’ll be okay.”

Isshin smiles back, wrinkles appearing at the crease of his eyes. “I know you will,” he answers. “I’m proud of you, Karin. And your mom would be too.” He hugs her once more before releasing her and a few moments later, Karin is standing in front of Ichigo and Rukia. Her eyes expose her fear, but also a strong and striking fire of confidence, one Rukia is so used to seeing in Ichigo.

“I’m ready,” the twin whispers.

Rukia opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. There’s so much she wants to say, but she can’t. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, Karin… Somehow this feels like it is neither the time or the place, and before she knows it, Ichigo’s zanpakuto is in his hands and his hilt is brought lower and lower, very slowly, until it is completely facing Karin.

Ichigo swallows with difficulty, but smiles down at his sister. “See you soon, baby sis.”

Karin smirks at him. “I’ll be waiting.”

Ichigo brings Zangetsu’s hilt closer until it touches Karin’s forehead, and she closes her eyes at the contact, smile somehow still on her lips. A white light appears, originating from the contact, and increases in size, radiating all around Karin’s body. It lasts a few seconds before the light dies down and Karin is gone.

Rukia’s eyes are low, and she feels cold. Ichigo’s name is threatening to come out of her lips, and she wants to reach out her hand to touch his arm because it’s really the only she can let him know she’s still there, supporting him. She doesn’t speak, and when she moves to look at him, he’s already placing his zanpakuto at its usual place against his back.

“Let’s go,” he simply says.

Rukia blinks and regains her focus. She walks a few feet ahead and opens up a new Senkaimon. The wooden doors open, slowly, and she feels Ichigo’s presence getting closer.

“Don’t worry dad,” she hears him speak and there’s a determination she knows by heart. “I’ll find her.”

Isshin grins. “I know you will, son.”

Rukia waits until Ichigo turns and he looks at her, nodding. She nods back, and together, they walk through the gates. Gates leading them right into Soul Society. 

CLICK HERE TO CONTINUE READING THE NEXT CHAPTER

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

Something has always bugged me about the line "Arya had been entirely unsatisfactory as sisters went" in Sansa II, ASOS. I get the context is her longing for sisterhood with Marg and she's trying to warn about Joffrey's cruelty, which Arya recognized early on. The way GRRM wrote Sansa continuing to think of her presumed deceased sister as "unsatisfactory" sounds like such an unnecessary cheap shot considering where it falls in Sansa's development. GRRM's depiction of female relationships often

highlights the negative. Am I way off in being bothered by the way this line just feels shoehorned in there for no reason? I think we could get the point without it, but what’s your opinion?

I think the mention of Arya is more than a “cheap shot” against Sansa’s character or unnecessary here, it’s actually very relevant. You see, the context isn’t only Sansa’s longing for sisterhood, there’s more to it than that.

“Willas has the best birds in the Seven Kingdoms,” Margaery said when the two of them were briefly alone. “He flies an eagle sometimes. You will see, Sansa.” She took her by the hand and gave it a squeeze. “Sister.”

Sister. Sansa had once dreamt of having a sister like Margaery; beautiful and gentle, with all the world’s graces at her command. Arya had been entirely unsatisfactory as sisters went. How can I let my sister marry Joffrey? she thought, and suddenly her eyes were full of tears. “Margaery, please,” she said, “you mustn’t.” It was hard to get the words out. “You mustn’t marry him. He’s not like he seems, he’s not. He’ll hurt you.”

“I shouldn’t think so.” Margaery smiled confidently. “It’s brave of you to warn me, but you need not fear. Joff’s spoiled and vain and I don’t doubt that he’s as cruel as you say, but Father forced him to name Loras to his Kingsguard before he would agree to the match. I shall have the finest knight in the Seven Kingdoms protecting me night and day, as Prince Aemon protected Naerys. So our little lion had best behave, hadn’t he?” She laughed, and said, “Come, sweet sister, let’s race back to the river. It will drive our guards quite mad.” And without waiting for an answer, she put her heels into her horse and flew.

She is so brave, Sansa thought, galloping after her… and yet, her doubts still gnawed at her. Ser Loras was a great knight, all agreed. But Joffrey had other Kingsguard, and gold cloaks and red cloaks besides, and when he was older he would command armies of his own. Aegon the Unworthy had never harmed Queen Naerys, perhaps for fear of their brother the Dragonknight… but when another of his Kingsguard fell in love with one of his mistresses, the king had taken both their heads.

Ser Loras is a Tyrell, Sansa reminded herself. That other knight was only a Toyne. His brothers had no armies, no way to avenge him but with swords. Yet the more she thought about it all, the more she wondered. Joff might restrain himself for a few turns, perhaps as long as a year, but soon or late he will show his claws, and when he does… The realm might have a second Kingslayer, and there would be war inside the city, as the men of the lion and the men of the rose made the gutters run red.

Sansa was surprised that Margaery did not see it too. She is older than me, she must be wiser. And her father, Lord Tyrell, he knows what he is doing, surely. I am just being silly.

–ASOS, Sansa II

Sansa has remarkably good intuition, but she often forces herself to ignore it. (See this post, which relates Sansa’s separation from her intuition to the death of Lady; as well as the followup, which is relevant to our interests.) You can see from this quote that Sansa has figured out there’s something wrong with Margaery’s claim that Loras will defend her from Joffrey. And the more Sansa thinks about it, the more she sees the flaws… she’s just on the edge of realizing the truth of the “kingslayer stew” and how Olenna was planning to protect Margaery and Loras by poisoning Joffrey and replacing him with Tommen. Unfortunately, Sansa instead comes to the conclusion that if Margaery doesn’t see a problem it’s because she’s older and wiser, wise enough to know that there is no problem, and dismisses her worries and intuitive conclusions as “just being silly”.

And in this, we can see that Sansa is making the same mistake with Margaery as she did with Joffrey and Cersei. Because Margaery is a perfect lady, the perfect sister (unlike Arya), “beautiful and gentle, with all the world’s graces at her command,” Sansa believes she must be good and honest and true and wise. The idea that Margaery could ever be dishonest, that the kind and benevolent Tyrells could ever be hiding something darker and more dangerous, doesn’t cross Sansa’s mind… or if it comes close to crossing her mind, she pushes it away, because it doesn’t fit the story roles, the song she wants the world to be.

To clarify what I mean by that, let me quote @corseque on Sansa’s tendency to see others as roles in a story:

Sansa likes to relate to people through set roles taken from stories. An example of this: a few chapters later [after the Hand’s Tourney] she cries when her father doesn’t send “the hero” Ser Loras after “the monster” Ser Gregor to bring him to justice.

When the Knight of Flowers had spoken up, she’d been sure she was about to see one of Old Nan’s stories come to life. Ser Gregor was the monster and Ser Loras the true hero who would slay him.

This is why she doesn’t get along with Arya - Arya doesn’t conform to the highborn lady role in Sansa’s story. This is why she looks down on King Robert - he doesn’t quite match her mental image of a king. This is why she looks up to Queen Cersei - she is exactly Sansa’s mental image of a queen. This is why she is so lost when it comes to Joffrey. This is how she is able to assign herself a new identity based on weird generalizations she’s heard about bastards from stories - she relates to herself through a different story role (“the bastard girl raised in a sept”) the same way she relates to others through story roles, and it’s relatively easy for her.

So what does this have to do with “I knew the Hound would win?”

Sansa heard the Hound’s story about his face the night before, and she sympathized with the story enough to try to comfort him. Obviously, the story made an impact on her and was added to her little arsenal of stories, because she sees Gregor as a hideous monster from then on. Sandor’s role in the story that she is making up is a little more muddied, and changes depending on his proximity.

When Sandor isn’t around, she romanticizes him, thinking of him (especially after he saved Loras from his brother) as someone who would never let her come to harm. But whenever Sandor opens his big stupid mouth and says things like weak people are mutton for wolves, she has no choice but to try to reconcile her romanticized image of him with the reality of him being a scary rude horrible brute, and it hurts her feelings in the same way that Arya refusing to be a lady hurts her feelings.

Basically, the mention of Arya in this chapter is a clue, an alarm bell to the reader if not Sansa herself, that Sansa is unfortunately reverting to her AGOT mindset. Margaery and the Tyrells’ kindnesses and friendship, the promise that Sansa will escape and marry a great lord (not quite what she had always wished for, but good enough to dream and fantasize about)… they’re letting Sansa believe that life can be a song again, that everyone is perfectly fitting into the roles that they should have, and making her ignore all the little intuitive alarm bells that should be telling her otherwise. Dontos (annoyed and frantic that the Tyrells are stealing his* “convince Sansa she’s in a song” trick) tries to make her realize that they only want her for her claim to Winterfell, but she tells herself it doesn’t matter. A dressmaker comes to fit Sansa for a new gown, straight up telling her it’s on Cersei’s orders, almost giving away the fact it’s a bridal gown, and even though she’s uneasy Sansa convinces herself that the gown is Margaery or Olenna’s doing.

*(it’s actually Littlefinger’s trick of course, Dontos didn’t think of it on his own; as a former story-role believer himself, Petyr knows how to press Sansa’s buttons and knew the best method was to slot Dontos and Sansa into the roles of Florian and Jonquil, however unfitting a true Florian Dontos might be.)

Aside: I think some of the confusion regarding this chapter – why some tend to dismiss it as “Sansa has a dress fitting and nothing else happens”, why its importance to Sansa’s character development is sometimes overlooked – is that it’s told out of order, with the dress fitting a frame for flashbacks. The actual timeline is that after Olenna and Margaery interview Sansa about Joffrey (in her previous chapter) and tell her they wish to betroth her to Willas, the Tyrell entourage takes her in. Sansa meets Margaery’s cousins, relatives, and other lovely ladies, Sansa learns about the girls’ kissing games (and first develops her thoughts about the unkiss, to prove herself more mature than they are, yet also to romanticize a frightening and disturbing situation by (again) making it into a kind of story). And notably, Sansa realizes:

They are children, Sansa thought. They are silly little girls, even Elinor. They’ve never seen a battle, they’ve never seen a man die, they know nothing. Their dreams were full of songs and stories, the way hers had been before Joffrey cut her father’s head off. Sansa pitied them. Sansa envied them.

Sansa envies the girls’ innocence, the way they can still see the world as a story. And despite herself, despite her experiences, Sansa switches back into that mindset… because of envy, because of a wish to escape back to the song-like time before Ned’s execution, because of the comfort of finally having the sister of her dreams in Margaery. Once she’s in that headspace, that’s when Sansa goes hawking with Margaery and worries about her (but dismisses those worries, dismisses her intuition and experience). After that is when Sansa meets with Dontos, and filled with the delight of stories coming true for real this time, tells him all about the Tyrell plans for her and Willas. And after failing to convince Sansa that the Tyrells are using her and that they need to go back to his escape plan, Dontos goes to Littlefinger and tells him the Tyrell betrothal plans – and Littlefinger goes to Tywin, and Tywin decides the best way to deal with the plans is to marry Sansa to Tyrion (ASOS Tyrion III). Afterwards, Cersei orders the dressmaker to fit Sansa for a wedding gown and all the bridal accessories. And Sansa dismisses her worries about Cersei (because it must be Margaery’s “unfailing kindness” providing the gown), and thinks she’ll wear the new dress to Margaery and Joffrey’s wedding, and then in Highgarden where she’ll look beautiful for Willas.

So. Back to Arya. (Who Sansa may not be certain is dead or not, at this point.) Arya, the “entirely unsatisfactory” sister who never fit the story role of a lady, versus beautiful and graceful Margaery, the perfect lady, the perfect sister, the sister from Sansa’s dreams. Arya, who learned that “the heart lies and the head plays tricks with us, but the eyes see true”, who learned to “look with [her] eyes”, to see what’s really going on. Arya represents the ugly truth that Sansa intuitively knows is below the surface, but doesn’t want to believe is there. Margaery is the story, the dream, the way Sansa wishes the world could be; Margaery whose promises have let her envy the innocence of the past, let Sansa hope her song is coming true again, even though she once horribly learned otherwise. Margaery’s promises and story-song-dreams, so powerful that they even transform Arya in Sansa’s headspace, to be just a girl in Margaery’s entourage (Alysanne Bulwer, like Arya “though not so fierce”) or a child Sansa dreams of having with Willas.

Character development and growth isn’t always straightforward. Sansa’s character didn’t start growing at the end of AGOT (or even the middle, with Arya “spoiling” her song with Joffrey, or Sandor showing her the truth behind knighthood) and move in a perfect upward arc thereafter, never making mistakes, always losing flaws, always becoming a better person. Sometimes there’s negative character development, and that’s what we see in this chapter (among others), with Sansa reverting to previous forms of behavior and beliefs about people, disregarding her intuition, taking beauty and story-role-matching for truth and honesty. It’s why describing Arya as “unsatisfactory” feels like a negative mark in Sansa’s character, it’s supposed to be one.

And it’s this negative character development that leads Sansa to fall blindly into the horrible surprise of her next chapter, to see her story-song-dream crash down once again, to even see the perfect lady Margaery and her new Tyrell friends betray her. Nevertheless, Sansa will persist, will deal with those losses and survive despite it all, to continue her growth and development. And even though the Red Wedding comes and takes even her remaining hope away, Sansa will transform Arya in her headspace once more, to become a connection to her memories of innocent days in Winterfell, a longing for home and family and love.

I’d like to hope that this mental and emotional transformation will have its effects when Sansa and Arya eventually reunite, to make such concepts as “an unsatisfactory sister” entirely irrelevant, only a matter of regrets and apologies. And hopefully Sansa can learn that she can make life a song herself – not by forcing people into roles they don’t fit, or by assuming that if a person fits a role on the surface they must fit every element of that role – but by finding ways to inspire others, by making a world where the best parts of the stories aren’t lies. The course of events, character development, and all… well… we’ll just have to see…

@bluelemonsforever replied:

I think it’s interesting that Sansa starts out latching on to the perfect older, wiser sister, making Sansa take on the little sister role. Like Arya, she insistently tries to tell Margaery that Joffrey is a cruel monster. Her care and concern won’t be reciprocated. Upon her wedding to Tyrion, when Sansa needs support, the Tyrells withdraw their friendship. All she gets from the perfect big sister is a pitying look. That’s got to be a small taste of the way Arya felt let down and betrayed by Sansa. In the end, she is treated like the imperfect little sister that spoiled everything. So hopefully, this role reversal causes Sansa to empathize more with Arya’s position and how good of a sister she really had.

Yes, thank you, that’s another very good reason for Arya to be mentioned in this chapter, for the role reversal that will hopefully lead to Sansa’s greater understanding of Arya as a person and as a sister.

Her friendship with Myranda and Mya does give me a lot of hope for reconciliation with Arya. Especially in TWOW sample, she identifies running wildly with Myranda with running with Arya and Jeyne. It’s not a sisterhood of perfect ladies being perfect. She sympathizes with Mya’s struggles and hurts. She helps rescue Myranda from the unwanted attention of two gross men. She tells her it wasn’t her fault her first husband died. She is patient and sympathetic with her hurt over being rejected by Harry and Lady Waynwood. There’s a lot of support and solidarity with other women, even unconventional ones.

Exactly, yes. Note that even in TWOW, Sansa still relates to people through story roles somewhat (the Tourney of the Winged Knights being Sansa’s idea, an idea taken from songs and stories and weaponized, so to speak, tells us a lot), and Mya and Myranda no less there. (Especially Mya as the “bastard brave” daughter of a king, and as the focus of a warrior’s secret romantic attentions.) But that these women are atypical and imperfect, and yet Sansa falls easily into friendship with them, shows that she’s grown quite a bit from her early days. With luck, it should bode well for the future.