#like it’s fine regardless but my main gripe is just. that’s not the word you intend anyway | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mamamittens · 2 years ago

Text

Hallowed Shutters

Spooktober day #12

Fandom: One Piece

Ship: None

Warnings: Implied death and ghosts. Brief mention of needles, shots, and tetanus.

A complete lack of thunderstorm regardless of what the picture implies.

Word Count: 1,825

Thatch threw his arm over Marco’s shoulder with a cheery laugh, glancing back at the trailing members of their group with a grin.

“Don’t get too scared if you see any ghosts, Ace! Your big brothers will keep you safe!” Thatch teased at the grumpy young man. Ace rolled his eyes and gave a long look at Deuce, who merely pat his shoulder in sympathy.

“I really don’t get why we’re doing this.” Ace muttered, Izo just behind him with an indulgent smile for their antics.

“It’s a spooky manor on a nearly abandoned island. I don’t know how you expected us to not investigate.” Izo commented dryly. Truly, it didn’t take much to convince Pops to allow this adventure. Getting a group to go was a different matter altogether.

Marco was perhaps the easiest. Offer some specialty treats afterwards and a break from paperwork and he bent easily. Accept any consequence if his makeup gets ruined and Izo was happy enough to go on a ‘light walk’ around a historic building. Ace however, was incredibly unhappy with the prospect. Whether that was because he was secretly terrified and refused to show weakness, Thatch wasn’t entirely sure. Nothing really seemed to scare the young man, after all but perhaps this was just a critical weakness of his. If that was the case, then Thatch made it his mission to show his newest—and youngest—brother that he was safe here.

Deuce accompanied them as a show of support for Ace and didn’t say much on his personal opinion.

“You really want to go ghost hunting? Why bother?” Ace griped as they walked up the steps of the manor. Thatch cocked his head as Marco examined the door to determine if it was locked or needed a swift kick to open.

“Oh. You don’t believe in ghosts, Ace? After everything you’ve seen out on the Grand Line?” Thatch cocked a brow at the statement. Pure stubbornness definitely got him this far, but to thing such a simple thing as ghosts was impossible after getting this far was… very strange.

Ace rolled his eyes and sighed before giving Thatch a bored look.

“Of course, I believe in ghosts. I believe you should leave them alone too.” Ace explained slowly, like Thatch was a child. Sniffing at the insult, Thatch ignored the relatively light kick Marco gave the door as it slammed open under the brute force. “Breaking into their house isn’t likely to endear them to you, you know.”

Thatch reached back and swung Ace into his side, bullying him into the threshold with a cheeky grin.

“A talk about manners? Coming from you? My, what has the world come to?” Thatch crowed with a chuckle.

“Idiocy, apparently.” Ace smacked Thatch’s arm off of him and leaned against the grand staircase. “Sorry for intruding. My family is made up of idiots.” Ace called out to the building loudly.

There was a low groan of silence and a distant, howling wind from upstairs. The house was, predictably, dusty and dark. Covered in cobwebs and only mostly falling apart. Anyone seeking to renovate could do it, but it would require a lot more work than most would bother putting in. The tiles cracked and a strong smell of must overpowered anything else. Thatch was a little worried about walking around upstairs, but the ground floor at least, would be fine.

The last thing he wanted from this excursion was a tetanus shot. He put up enough of a fuss last time that the nurses still haven’t forgiven him and are likely to stab his ass with the needle than anywhere else. The prospect of wrestling Ace into one seemed borderline suicide. The young man did not do needles.

“We should probably stick together in case a floor collapses or something.” Deuce suggested reasonably, to which Ace sighed but nodded.

“Yeah, there’s no telling how rotted out the floors are if the main room looks this broken down. Ugh, I thought I was done searching garbage heaps…” Ace mumbled before spinning on his heel and meandering up the stairs, hands tucked into his pockets. “If there’s any hungry ghosts here, eat the pompadour first.” Ace called out loudly.

“Hey!” Thatch yelped, holding a hand protectively over his hair as he raced up the stairs after Ace.

Ace naturally ignored him as he turned down the first hallway he found and knocked on a random door before opening it. Deuce whistled lightly and, once Thatch caught up to them, he understood why.

The room was just as dusty and musty as the others, but the opulent decorations were still very impressive. A guest bedroom with a four poster bed, the blankets and hanging curtains thick and expensive looking. The furniture was elaborately carved and the candles still immaculate. Whoever this room was for never got around to using it. Ever.

“Wow. And to think no one raided the house over the years, huh, Ace?” Deuce whispered.

“Probably pissed off the ghost that lives here before they could.” Ace speculated as they went onto the next room.

From the looks of things, they were wandering the guest wing. Each room was much the same as the first, if differing in color and style.

“Wanna check out the other side?” Thatch whispered conspiratorially. Marco and Izo shrugged, not caring either way, which Thatch took as wholesale approval to jauntily walk to the other side.

“Try not to piss off the ghost, Thatch.” Ace warned dryly as he stalked behind him.

Thatch laughed loudly and ignored the comment, slamming open the first door he found.

It was, tragically, a nursery. Toys displayed on a dresser with drawers partially opened, baby clothes hanging out and littering the floor. The crib was knocked over, a stand for a bassinet empty. Gently, Ace reached past Thatch and closed the door softly. Thatch, understandably, didn’t argue with him. The next door he opened was with much more consideration.

A children’s room, in a similar state as the nursery. Half packed bags left on a messy bed, books knocked off the shelf. A doll was tucked in with a blanket on a rocking chair next to the shuddered window. Judging by the amount of pink and dresses lying around, it was a girl’s room. The room after that appeared to belong to a young boy just a bit older than the last room’s occupant. Messier and filled with a bug collection to boot.

By now, Thatch was thoroughly bummed the fuck out, which he should have expected. No one would talk about why the manor was empty, but wealthy people rarely just abandoned prime property like this.

The last room in the hall was, obviously, the master bedroom. A massive, ornate bed, made perfectly. Dresser delicately cluttered with women’s perfume and makeup, but nothing belonging to a man. A wardrobe was left open, beautiful dresses left for the moths. There was a portrait of a small family on the bedside table, next to several bottles of medicine near empty. There was a few mannequins with half finished dresses across the room as well for an adult woman and children.

Thatch almost missed the waif-like lady seated in the window, her body pale as the moon and like a mirage.

He nearly screamed, sucking in a sharp breath as Ace bowed at the waist.

“Good evening ma’am. I apologize for the intrusion.” Ace informed her, “My brother is just nosy.”

She laughed softly, her voice faded and weak.

“It’s quite alright. You’re much better guests than the last few that have come here.” She replied graciously, glancing at thatch with pure white eyes narrowed mischievously. “Ghost hunting is quite popular these days, I’m given to understand. Though why they bothered with the trip…” Ace snorted.

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Isn’t that right, Deuce?” Ace asked, his friend rolling his eyes and nodding.

“Yeah. They’re not the sharpest pirates though, so I guess it can be forgiven.” Deuce sighed, and Thatch was distracted from his pressing curiosity with the insult. It was probably for the best he didn’t actually ask why the woman died. It wasn’t exactly hard to guess.

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?” Thatch whined, glancing between his brothers for an answer.

Marco shrugged, but his expression was suspicious, and Izo looked as lost as Thatch felt.

“We’ll be leaving now. Have a nice night, ma’am.” Ace bowed again before shoving them out the door, gently closing it behind him.

“Goodnight, Portgas D. Ace.” The lady called out softly, “You do your mother justice.”

Ace paused for a moment and smiled softly, the sort of expression Thatch never expected him to ever have. Then, in a single breath, it was gone and Ace was rudely escorting them out of the manor. Much to Marco’s amusement as he leaned against Ace’s hands dramatically with a sigh.

It wasn’t until they were out of the manor that Thatch found his voice.

“Hey, what was she talking about back there?” Ace paused, looking over his shoulder.

“…About my mom?” Ace raised his brow.

“No! The other vague comment! And the one you’ve both been making tonight! What the hell are you three talking about?” Ace cracked a sly grin and laughed at Thatch with a shrug.

“Just don’t see the reason you wanted to go looking for a ghost is all.” Ace turned and made his way back down the overgrown path, still laughing.

Deuce snorted and threw his arm over Ace’s shoulder as they both braved the rugged path together.

It was then, as the clouds parted briefly, that something changed. Shifted.

Tan skin and freckles, the dark tattoo of their crew on his back, glowed in the light. Thatch’s heart caught in his throat as the lines of Deuce’s shirt became visible through Ace’s arm. The path softly illuminated around him, flickers of pale blue light rising around Ace. Thatch made a distressed sound in the back of his throat as realization rammed into him like a bullet to the gut.

Marco and Izo breathless beside him as they came to the same conclusion.

“…So much for ghost hunting.” Izo whispered as the clouds rolled back in place and Ace was once again, solid and real. Living and breathing flesh and blood… or at least he appeared to be.

How and why… Thatch didn’t know how to ask. If he even could manage the feat when the thought made his throat swell with emotion.

Some things, after all, were better left alone. Allowed to gather dust from disuse, never to be addressed again.

Maybe Ace would explain in his own time… or maybe not at all.

Thatch sucked in a harsh, throttled breath. Shaking his head before resolutely following behind.

None of it mattered. Ace was here. With them.

And Thatch was going to be the best big brother he could be. No matter what Ace was.

#spooktober #one piece #portgas d ace #thatch one piece #izo one piece #marco the phoenix #masked deuce #sfw

20 notes · View notes

king-paimon · 4 years ago

Text

HnK Post Chapter 95 Thoughts: 3 Months later...

Hi guys…. I’m so sorry for being away for so long and delaying this post. I can’t believe March is already almost over. This year is going by way too quickly, but honestly, is that really a surprise? I was working on this post back in January and was planning on posting it then, but life has been more busy than usual for me. I still feel really bad for promising to post this and not being able to keep it. But here it is now! I don’t know how many people will see it since the Houseki no Kuni tags have been pretty quiet, but you know what? I’m kind of glad I didn’t post this post right away because I wanted to properly talk about my feeling about the chapter, the series, and Ms. Haruko Ichikawa herself, and doing that when I was still emotionally charged wouldn’t have done this post justice. And though I don’t think my thoughts overall has changed too much, I’d still like to share my thoughts, if you are interested in hearing them.

This will be another really, really long post, so be prepared! I’m definitely going to be doing a lot of edits on this one so please bare with me if anything doesn’t make sense. Please let me know if anything I said is too confusing.

Anywhoo~ here it goes:

My view of the story at this point

I had to go over my last post to see if any of my original opinions had changed and, well, for the most part, not too much. Most of the gripes I have with the story is still about the same, particularly the remaining gems becoming lunarian and the many implications that comes with it, though I would say some of my anger has subsided. I’m still bothered by it, though. I understand why the story would go in this direction and why the characters, especially Euclase, would choose to make this drastic decision to change themselves, since that was they ultimately wanted: to no longer live in fear of being destroyed and live peacefully, even if it means changing what they all were. It’s still bothers me a lot, mainly because I can relate this to similar real life events of people erasing their cultural and even racial identity as a means of survival in a different and so-called “better” society. I remember in one of my very first posts in the fandom, I stated how uncomfortable it made me that the first moon gems were totally fine assimilating into Moon society and were wanting to completely change themselves to fit in this society, even if it meant removing what made them who they were. For characters who didn’t like their original identity like Cairngorm (or Welegato but I’m not calling them that), or felt stunted in their original society like Dia, and found solace in Moon society, I can see how this transition as a liberating thing…but only to an extent. The thought of literally going to the extremes of changing yourself inside and out, erasing all traces of what made you “you”, while also destroying all old meaningful relationships in the process, to live in a place you were conditioned to be believe is the better option for you…It hits a little too close to home.

I’m talking about cultural assimilation and cultural destruction, where racial and cultural minorities sometimes go through drastic measures in order to assimilate into the “better” society, even if it means completely erasing their original identities physically and mentally. I’m not saying all forms of assimilation is inherently bad and I’m not saying that you must stick with your cultural upbringing for it’s a part of your identity; that is a toxic view and it’s especially bad if you experienced terrible things because of that upbringing. I’m trying to talk about the extreme cases of assimilation when these individuals are essentially convinced to go through extreme measures to fit in to the “better” society because their old identity was “bad”, and by completely changing themselves, from their appearance to even their name, then they can finally be happy in the so-called “better” society. I’ve heard of people going through such lengths and it’s heartbreaking. It’s very cultish and that’s how I viewed the transition of the gems becoming Lunarians, with everyone accepting the change with seemingly no issue and especially after Aechmea literally gave Cairngorm that new name. It would have been one thing if Cairn picked that name themselves, but it was all Aechmea. The lustrous don’t exist anymore and everyone is ok with it. The gem society that we knew, at this point of time, is gone now. It was far from perfect but the fact that it’s gone is sad and disturbing to me.

My view of the key characters of the chapter

Now that I stated how I feel about the gems essentially being erased, the next question is how do I feel about these characters themselves?

Conflicted. Very, very conflicted, and even a bit disappointed and upset, especially with certain characters more than others. But surprisingly, even after seeing how the turn of events turned out for all of them while Phos is stuck on Earth alone… I don’t hate them. Yeah. After everything that has happened, I currently don’t hate the gems… For now, anyways. It all depends on what happens next.

But the one character that I feel the most conflicted with is Adamant, especially after his interaction with Aechmea. Part of me is confused by Adamant’s and Aechmea’s seemingly friendly interaction because of Adamant’s past actions and words, for they don’t seem to belong to someone who would be on friendly terms with someone who they were actively resisting against before. I’m talking about all of the times that Adamant would fight off the Lunarians but also that moment in Chapter 85:

(Chapter 85, Pages 10-11)

After seeing things like this, I just find it odd how Adamant’s interactions with Aechmea are so friendly now. And with the horrifying implication that everything that had happened was planned between them, which also doesn’t make sense, I’m not sure what to think. Maybe Adamant’s changed attitude relates to him being free of his burdens and physical body? This could explain the change in attitude, but it still feels… off. Maybe I’m looking too much into this. I don’t want to hold hope that when he and the other gems were transformed that Aechmea somehow manipulated their memories to make them more compliant, even though it was made clear that memories were going to be lost in the process. Maybe this will be explained more in the next chapter, but I won’t hold my breath for that either. To me, this just made me feel weird about Adamant because remember, I was both sad and relieved when he disintegrated in the previous chapter because I really liked his character. Now though, I’m not so sure. I still don’t hate him or any of the other gems, but I’m definitely on the fence with him more so than the others. I certainly don’t hate Euclase like many other fans; I didn’t agree with their past actions (or rather lack of actions), but like with Phos and other characters, they did what they felt was right given what they knew. Still not excusing it, but I understand why. As for Antarcticite... I’m not sure, honestly. Though I’m glad at least they brought up Phos, I can’t help but feel that their main priority is still Adamant. Out of recently changed characters, Antarcticite is the main character I have the most positive opinion on, but again, that can easily change within the next chapter.

So yeah, I still have mixed feeling about all that has happened that led to this point in the story, and I do have a more negative view of some of them. But regardless of that, I can’t bring myself to downright hate any of the characters. Disappointed with their decisions is one thing, but to hate them with every fiber of my being? No. I don’t think I can. At least for now. The same goes to the Lunarians, too. Hell, even though I’ve said before that I hated Aechmea for how he manipulated Phos and the other gems for personal gain, once again, I don’t think I downright hate him either (though I still want something bad to happen to him.) Aechmea is such an intriguing antagonist that I love to despise.

My view of Haruko Ichikawa at this point

Since the release of chapter 95, I’ve seen a lot of fans post their criticisms of Haruko Ichikawa herself regarding how she’s writing the story and her treatment of the characters. Someone even commented on my chapter post about how they don’t view her story as ‘amazing’ anymore because of her cruel treatment of Phos and the depressing turns in the story. Even popular commentors like @rinboz posted their criticism about what Ms. Ichikawa is doing with her story. As for me, I can agree with some of the comments made to an extent. Some of the choices Ms. Ichikawa made in the story has had me question her a few times; like the mentioned interaction between Aechmea and Adamant as well as the extremely predatorial relationship between Achmea and Cairngorm. I still think that chapter 95 was extremely rushed, especially going through the previous events that were stretched out into nearly 10 chapters. There are many other smaller issues that I personally have when it comes to how Ms. Ichikawa writes her story and characters, but I think the biggest criticism I’ve seen that I agree with is the concern about the current direction of the story. And at this point, the story can only go in so many directions and most of them are leading to anything but a genuinely happy ending for Phos. And it’s pretty depressing that Ms. Ichikawa has some of us pleading for Phos to die so they don’t suffer anymore. I can’t think of any other story that has me wanting the main character to die, not because I hate, but because I don’t want them to be mistreated anymore. This story is nothing but hopelessness.

But you know what’s crazy? I kind of like that.

Maybe Ms. Ichikawa has made me a glutton for tragic stories, or because I’ve been starving for a unique story, but I kind of like that this story hasn’t gone in the predictable, happy route for everything Phos has gone through. If this story were written by someone else, I can picture Phos somehow regaining their appearance and memories, be surrounded by the people who truly cared about them and their enemies dead, and pretty much having the picture-perfect happy ending with no form of problems whatsoever as an award for everything that Phos previously sacrificed. Yeah, this is the ending I’m sure fans want in some shape or form and to a degree, I do too. But to be honest, I’m kind of glad that’s not the story that we’re getting, at least right now. In a weird way, it’s sort of refreshing to have a main character who doesn’t always win in the end, especially after all of the things the character sacrificed.

And I also how the story and it’s characters can be so simple and complexed at the same time, like in her anthology series. To me, this makes Ms. Ichikawa stand out from the many mangaka I’ve followed throughout the years. And because of that, part of me hopes she knows what she’s doing and has something extreme planned for the story’s future.

Now, I don’t want to shoot myself in the foot for still thinking highly of Ms. Ichikawa’s writing; there are still things that I think could have been handled differently, like the mentioned pacing and story details. But for now, those gripes are not too irritating for me and I’m not quite ready to downright say that her story is bad...YET. I want to reserve my final opinion of Ms. Ichikawa as a writer until the end of the series, whenever that will be, because despite how the story has progressed for last several chapters, I’m still enjoying writing. I just hope that when the series does come to an end that Ms. Ichikawa gives us a satisfying end. When it comes to ending a series, how an author does so can really affect how fans view the series and the author, and I think this will be the case for this story, though I’m sure there will be criticism regardless of what kind of end Ms. Ichikawa creates. For me, while I do care about whether Phos and the other characters get the endings they deserve, I just hope it will be told well. I’ve seen too many times really good series ending terribly because the creator didn’t know how to end a series properly. I sincerely hope that won’t be the case with Ms. Ichikawa.

From this point forward

I remember seeing a lot of readers who are upset with how the story has progressed thus far, with some even saying that they were going to drop the series because of how depressing it is. I think everyone who felt this way has every right to feel that way; it’s completely understandable. Houseki no Kuni is definitely not a story for everyone, and it can take an emotional toll on you. I know it certainly affected me that way, and I can’t think of many other series that has done that. It’s been a long since I’ve been so invested in a series and despite the many emotional rollercoasters I’ve felt during parts of the story, I don’t think I will ever say that I regret picking this series up. And despite my mixed feeling about the latest chapter, I want to continue to stick with it. Even if the story continues to spiral in a never-ending pit of despair, I still want to stick with it until it ends. And you know, I think even if this series does have a somber, heartbreaking ending, I think I’d still view the story as overall amazing and I’d still be glad I got into it when I did...Unless Ms. Ichikawa gives us an abrupt, unsatisfying ending. Then that opinion goes out the window.

Until the next chapter comes out...

Other than being busy, I admit that I’m glad to be taking a break from Houseki no Kuni. Despite my many praises, it still takes a lot out of me and I definitely needed that break. And though I personally don’t mind waiting a bit longer, I can’t wait for it to back. I sincerely hope that Ms. Ichikawa doing alright, especially after all of the chaos happening for the past year, and that she enjoys her time away from the series. I hope she’s staying healthy in body and mind, and I’ll wait with bated breath for the next chapter of this story.

Besides this post, I actually had a few post ideas that I want to work on, but because of my schedule, those will have to wait a while. I wanted to make another story prediction post because even though they are sometimes wrong, they are fun to do. I think I’ll wait until the next chapter to come out to make that one. The other post I’ve been somewhat working on is a bit different from my usual post; it’s somewhat of a character analysis/reflection and it’s on a controversial character that while many justifiably hate, I personally can’t. (Can you guess who that is? I’m sure you can!) Because of how many people hate this character, I was not sure if I wanted to write it. But you know what, I’m going to do it anyways. When that post will be done? I have no clue, but this will be an interesting writing exercise for me and I can’t wait share why I don’t hate this character the way many other fans do.

The end!

Well, that’s the end of this post. I hope you enjoyed it. I will likely go over this again at some point but it’s getting really late and I need to get some sleep. I hope everyone is doing well and keeping themselves busy during this series hiatus. Maybe unwind by reading/watching a new series. There are some interesting ones that came out last year and this year. I personally stated watching Wonder Egg Priority. It’s really good but deals with a lot of heavy subject matters, so be warned. I’vve also watched lighter stuff like Lupin the Third (I love this franchise so much) and some of the new shows on Netflix. I would like to see some more stuff but I don’t know what to look for. If you have any recommendations, please feel free to leave a comment.

Until next time, I hope everyone has a pleasant week 😊

#houseki no kuni #land of the lustrous #hnk spoilers #lotl spoilers #hnk #lotl #hnk thoughts #hnk phosphophyllite #hnk chapter 95 #hnk adamant #hnk aechmea #haruko ichikawa #long post #personal opinion #personal thoughts #hnk phos #hnk meta #hnk manga spoilers #hnk spoiler

63 notes · View notes

mintchocolatechipnut · 4 years ago

Text

the boys but they’re idols

ft. bakugou katsuki. midoriya izuku & todoroki shouto

Note: yes, I missed prime pun opportunity to write ‘the boyz’ in the title. Anyway, I’ll be general enough to not include any real-life names and music, but I’ll get specific about other details. (Besides, if you squint real close you can see where I got my references from.) I’m thinking of a follow-up part, but we’ll see. Hope you enjoy!

* These headcanons are detailing each of the boys as a member in a hypothetical idol group, and not that they’re all in the same group.

** For context: the difference between main and lead positions is that main is the position that gets majority of the activity e.g. song, dance, rap, etc. Lead is more of a supporting role, but still important nonetheless.

Tags: idol!au, no x reader for this one, unless??, as you can see from the word length I think you’ll know who I’m partial to

Word count: 3.3k

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

Obviously an all-rounder. He can sing, dance, and rap, though his forte is definitely dancing.

Bakugou obviously has some mad hand-eye coordination if he can play the drums, and I haven’t even brought in his utilizing it through his quirk and fighting talent. He’s also very flexible when twisting through the air and extremely precise with his explosions

Thus, I’d say that his moves are the most on-beat and precise. He’s got very solid moves when dancing; imagine his limbs cutting the air in sharp, refined movements, and his flexibility leads him to be an overall powerful dancer.

Bakugou is a HUGE stickler for technique. Sure, he’s not above improvisation, but technique’s where he excels the most. He’s looking far ahead enough to not want to jeopardize his health by doing some dangerous moves that could potentially hurt his body, so he always takes extra care when going about them, such as taking advanced dance classes.

He works wonderfully as a center, because not only does he have this charisma that makes people unable to look away from him, his perfected balance between his fierce dancing and his emphasis on technique lead him to be a picture of refined strength, and an absolute delight to watch on stage

His facial expressions are definitely the best when he’s performing powerful songs, probably because he’s naturally angry lol. His worst concept has got to be cute, but while he dreads doing it, it’s not like he can’t pull it off. He’s an idol, dammit.

Bakugou’s that one member who wears a headband or bandanna during cutesy performances and sticks with it, because that’s the closest the stylists are ever gonna get to his hair

God forbid if he ever has curly or straight hair

He’s not against dying it though, but he still cares about the repercussions it has on his body, so he tries to refrain from dying it too often. (Which could be inevitable if his managers require him to, I know that. But I’m going to give the boys a little more leeway here to showcase their personalities.)

Anyway, a bandanna suits him just fine, and now he’s the trademark member with the bandanna haha

Some things that don’t change from canon are obviously his schedule. Boy still wakes up at the crack of dawn, probably goes for runs or do sets in the gym, make himself a healthy breakfast, then get down to work

Now I’m conflicted as to what position he would take in a group; I’m leaning towards main dancer

Then again, he IS an all-rounder, so really you could get him to do anything and he’ll be just fine

It’s not in his nature to fail, after all

He can sing, but since his voice is kind of gravelly he’s not the first choice for a main vocal. Strong lead vocal material, I’ll bet, because his voice adds a lot of color and diversity. It’s not something you’d usually hear in a song, that’s why.

He can rap, but again, his voice is gravelly and hard to hear, so I don’t think it would be too good a fit for fast-paced raps. Though, throw him one or two iconic rap lines in his natural ‘I’ll punch you in the face’ tone and you’ve got yourself an icon (and a meme) for days.

I can also see Bakugou being leader of the group, since in canon he’s actually the oldest in class 1-A. One thing though is his outward persona isn’t all that pristine; he has trouble switching gears into idol mode. As we know Bakugou doesn’t lie, regardless of circumstances, and he’s not about to start doing that just to be liked better. If any of these extras are going to be his fans, they’re going to have to recognize real talent, without all the fake smiles.

But because he knows what it could do to the group’s reputation if he came out to look like a big bad bully, he usually keeps his mouth shut during publicity events

He’s probably one of the first idols to have a not-so-sunny media persona, but fans mostly see him as this brooding, sulky kid that’s prepared to put 100% into everything he does

Which is why they still like him

Suffice to say, his fan-base is very similar to the BNHA fandom lmao

Cue all the memes on him being a jerk and everyone liking him anyway, but they know he’s fully committed to the group and wouldn’t want to do anything to risk its image

But over the years, and with the amount of events he’s been involved in, Bakugou’s learnt to let out his true personality one step at a time

He’s considering things carefully because he doesn’t want his fans to be jarred by his personality change all of a sudden, and also because he’s tired keeping up appearances

Jokes on him because the fans already know how he is and are just waiting for him to be more comfortable around the group to showcase his true feelings

And you know what? It sells!

His members also see him as some inspirational figure because his determination and commitment is truly unparalleled

And while he isn’t the easiest to get along with, they know that he’ll do anything within his abilities to push the group to greater heights

While that’s cute and all, it also means they have to suffer at the hands of Bakugou’s tough love. Tough luck

Besides being leader, I could also see him having a hand in producing as well

Remember when I said he was a stickler for technicality? Well, yeah, exactly this

If he feels something isn’t up to par he’d rather do it himself. I think he’d dabble in mixing for a bit and realize he actually has an ear for it, to which he’d then go on to producing whole songs that just awe his members and they’d be like ‘yeah let’s go with this’

And one more thing. Bakugou’s actually got an eye for fashion

Yeah, gripe all you want because all this boy ever wears in the dorms is skull shirts and black tanks but seriously, when he gets down to it, he knows what looks perfect on each member and can make little adjustments to change up a whole style

Courtesy of having designer parents lmao

Overall Bakugou is nothing if not capable. While it means he could definitely go solo at some point, he’s formed bonds with his members and knows he’s grown as a person as a result. And at this point he can only get better

In a leader position, he’s got the charisma, and is not afraid to push for changes if he thinks the status quo isn’t doing enough to ensure the members’ well-being

His weaknesses are obviously teamwork and perfectionism, but he’s been learning how to get along with others better, that it’s not all just a rat race for fame and influence, and he’s able to form some pretty lasting relationships (see: Kirishima)

Not perfectionism, though. He sees it as a strength and not for one second will he compromise. He wants nothing but the best quality, not just for himself, but for the fans

MIDORIYA IZUKU

Looks like the maknae but isn’t. That’s it, that’s the post

He has a really sweet voice so I can see him going for vocals. So imagine when he turns around, holds a mic in his hand and starts RAPPING

You got it, he’s a rapper. Look at the speed that kid goes when he’s mumbling and muttering to himself all the time

Cue Deku’s origin story where he’s mumbling to himself on the street and a talent scout hands him his business card asbfajgfsa

His enunciation is also clear, and his sweet voice makes for a very refreshing rap. That and he also writes his own rap, because if he’s going to be saying anything on that stage, he’s going to want it to mean something.

His raps are always soulful, with hard-hitting lyrics that serve to encourage and motivate anyone who hears and vibes with them.

Basically, his gap moe game is STRONG. Dude be spitting fire up there on stage but once he’s come down, he’s a timid, sweet, shy boi, with overreactions and exaggerations that just make him all the more endearing

He’s also a big fan favorite because he nails every concept well, and has a very down-to-earth personality which he doesn’t hide from the cameras

You want him to act cute and youthful? You’ve got it. You want him to go for something sexy? Um yeah, he’ll have his reservations, but he’ll still do well. You want him to be angry and powerful? The strength in his gaze has got you trembling from the pit.

He’s not just a fan favorite but also that of the staff. Seriously Deku deserves all the love in the world and in this world, he’s going to get it

He’s in the position for main rapper, but I could see him going for lead vocals as well. He’s got a sweet, clear voice that immediately tugs on anyone’s heartstrings the moment they hear it, and he’s usually given more lines in ballads. His vocal range isn’t bad, he can reach moderately high notes, but sometimes his voice undergoes strain. He’s training for that, though!

As for his dance style, Deku probably goes for freestyle! He’s got this easy-going, totally relaxed style going for him that’s full of swag (omg outdated word alert) that makes his movements very smooth. He’s also reasonably flexible, though not as flexible as Bakugou or Todoroki, so he still can pull off certain dance moves.

Unpopular opinion, but it’s Deku, not Todoroki, who looks good in EVERYTHING. Literally his stylist is squealing backstage because they can go ham on dressing him. You could put him in a gold chain and ripped jeans OR an oversized hoodie and rompers, and it’d just go. The only thing is his hair though; he’s thinking of selling it as his charm point (not his freckles!) so he’d prefer if it could stay green. He doesn’t mind if they style it different ways though

The fans would go ballistic if they saw Deku with an undercut, and chances are they’re going to get to see it

He’s definitely one for improvisation! He’s very flexible with these changes, much like how he considers his growth in canon. He’s always looking to try out new styles or moves and see if it fits for him

Besides, I also see him producing! It’s because he’s so immersed in his idol career that he’s always studying new trends on the scene and making them into formulas for the group. He’s also thinking of marketing strategies in his free time

Everyone better be afraid of businessman Deku because he’ll be stealing those bucks from right under your nose

He’s also got mean leadership skills, but I don’t see him in a leader position

Rather, he’s like the second-eldest-but-co-leader kind of guy! He assists the leader in any way he can, and always serves to inspire and motivate the younger ones to work harder together as a team

Deku’s still got that shounen-protagonist charm, even in this world

But for all his good points, Deku still worries he isn’t enough

He knows how cut-throat the industry can be, having studied it inside and out, and he doesn’t want to lag behind

Cue him getting up at odd hours of the morning to use the practice studio (without waking up the others, of course) and other instances

Whenever his members realize he’s been overworking, literally everyone turns on him

He used to be the mom figure, but the moment he’s ushered into bed, a cooling pad on his forehead and thermos at his bedside desk, and the members even station one person to be in the living room so if he tries to leave his room to practice by himself they’ll see him

Jokes on them because Deku practices in his room

He practically moves in his sleep as if trying to get the muscle memory down

Precious boy must protecc!

In sum, Deku’s a great teammate to have and a valuable asset to the team

He’s also the best of friends and is never one to let a fellow member down

Probably the first to burst into tears if the group ever disbands

With his talent and fan-base, he could definitely go solo. But more than that, he wants to cherish the time he has with his members and achieve greater milestones with them every day

TODOROKI SHOUTO

High-key a visual. I mean, everyone wants to look like him!

Like. Everyone stops to look at him whenever he enters the room. Staff, producers, backstage crew, everyone. Even his members, sometimes.

Man’s just too pretty not to stare at

That's not to say he isn't talented, oh no. He's much like Bakugou, an all-rounder, but he's gone through rigorous training from when he was young to get there

Definitely not because of genes, no offense to Rei

As much as Enji is a major shareholder in the industry, anyone who sees Todoroki strut his stuff and still says he got in because of his father has got to be blind. Or deaf. Or plain stupid.

Sure, he had all that training courtesy of his dad. But the moment he enters as a trainee, it's all him from there and no one else.

He's a lot withdrawn at first, still is, but he's improved a lot from when he first joined. It's because of the support he's gained from both his members and fans that he's able to push himself to be the best version of himself everyday

He definitely doesn't come out and say it, but he's probably the most grateful for his fans. As in his family isn't the only lifeline left for him anymore

Todoroki has an amazing voice; while his speaking voice is low, he can reach higher notes without much difficulty. His tone is deep, somber and perfect for ballads, but the training he's undergone has made his technique immaculate. He's got excellent control, he can do runs and riffs effortlessly and he's even perfected his growl. Fans won't even see it coming

His dancing on the other hand is a lot about technique; but unlike Bakugou, Todoroki probably did classical and contemporary dance training as opposed to hip-hop or popping. Because of that, his movements are smooth and elegant, and he always carries himself with the grace of a dancer

That's not to say he cannot be an absolute beast on stage, of course. He's just more in his element when it comes to melancholic ballads, and he's had a hand in choreographing contemporary routines before

That experience and knowledge easily make him a capable choreographer for the group

After all those years of not being able to properly express himself, Todoroki learnt to let his dance tell a story in itself

He's also a fast learner, so any hip-hop techniques he easily picks up and incorporates into the routine

This makes me think he’s going to be a main dancer and a lead vocal, maybe even main vocal

I don’t see him in a leader position because while he has the charisma for it, I think he’d lack in communication, like Bakugou. They’re both a bit too used to doing things on their own that they 1) can’t trust anyone else to do it right and 2) as a result have never consulted other people about how they do things

The difference is Bakugou is a little more observant and far-thinking enough to be a leader, but it doesn’t make Todoroki any less important

If anything, he’s the mom friend, and always makes sure that the members stay in line and out of trouble

Also, for some reason, he's got exceptional charisma on stage and he doesn't even know it

Like, a sexy song comes on and then there’s Todoroki's smoldering heterochromatic gaze

Fans: omgomgomg how is he so hot what the—

Him: ??? This is my normal face tho

It's a strange feeling. One moment, he can be humping the floor and another moment he's got dimples in his cheeks from smiling. It makes him look like a totally different person, even though he's the same guy

His fans don't know why either

As much as he has a creative outlet in dance, Todoroki thinks he has no talent for songwriting or producing. He doesn't consider them his areas of expertise and if he was asked to write lyrics he'd have a hard time because he rarely expresses himself with words. He'd fret on it and eventually not get much done, so why try?

He does help out though, in offering suggestions on how to proceed, but he won't take the lead for any of these. Only dancing

That and his growing up with a businessman father leads him to also know the industry rather well, so he can offer some insights as to what image they could go for and how to market their discography

When it comes to styling, Todoroki is an absolute Mess. The things he likes and wants to wear doesn't suit him all that much, and the stylists usually have a hard time picking out clothes that really accentuate his look and figure. The myriad of colors in his hair and face lead to color clashes, but they find that red and blue are usually the go-to colors.

Did I mention that Todoroki doesn't mind dying his hair as long as they don't dye the white part? Enough said

They've done rainbow on him before!

He also doesn't cover up his scar, and over the years he's learnt to make it his charm point

It serves to make him a noticeable figure in the industry (as if his heterochromia weren’t enough) but it also makes him easily recognisable to fans

It’s not like he doesn’t like interacting with his fans, but sometimes some of them get a little too close, or ask questions that are way too personal

During those times, he’s at least got his members to relate and support him through it

The cutest thing about this man has got to be when he interacts with fans

Like, he’s pretty expressionless most of the time, but he always makes sure that his fans know that he’s extremely happy to have them here, and that he’ll continue doing the best he can for them

If you’re lucky and catch a small smile from him when you’re at a fan sign, I guess you could die peacefully

To summarize, Todoroki is a sweet bean but hardly ever shows it

When people praise his looks, he’s humble about them (though it’s more because he doesn’t know or think he’s attractive… baby just doesn’t see it)

And to top it all off, he’s a charmer on and off stage with his quiet, sensitive nature and calm demeanor

He’s also the one that’s most likely to have a modeling career outside of his idol work

He can’t act for the life of him even though he’s got the expressions right on stage

Like Deku and Bakugou, he could always go solo, but his reason for not doing so is mainly because he’s found a new family, here with his members, and he doesn’t want to lose it

He doesn’t even mind if they don’t produce music anymore. As long as everyone sticks together and has a good time, he’s willing

A/N: Thank you for reading! If you haven’t checked out my other pieces, you can find them on my masterlist; if you have, thank you for your support! I’m trying to post something new every week, so stay tuned :)

#bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #bnha idol au #mha idol au #bakugou katsuki #bakugou headcanons #midoriya izuku #midoriya headcanons #todoroki shouto #todoroki headcanons

177 notes · View notes

serenegaldr · 3 years ago

Text

ancient language hcs

((I’ve been thinking of doing this ever since it was mentioned in a thread, and I realized I’ve never really thought that much about what the Ancient Language (abbreviated AL) was supposed to be like, spoken. The soundtrack for the Galdr of Rebirth renders it as backwards Japanese, and I will take that into account, but I also have some thoughts of my own! My thoughts are also ridiculously long so have a read more cut:

First, according to the FE Wiki:

The ancient language was first devised by the beorc of Tellius, and for a time saw wide use among all of the land's people. However, its complexity proved to be a significant obstacle for it to be learned by laguz, and so the modern "Tellius language" was created and soon supplanted it as the continent's dominant tongue.

So the Ancient Language is supposedly ‘complex’. However, it is also the language the Galdrar are sung in, which means bird anatomy alone is capable of making the full range of these sounds. Thus, I propose that the AL has these following qualities, when compared to the Modern Tongue:

Phonetics: The production of sound (phones) in AL is, as stated above, extremely simple, allowing for its production by the tongues of multiple different types of animals. ‘Backwards Japanese’ is actually quite simple to pronounce, since like forwards Japanese, a lot of their words end on vowels, but I did wonder if the glides or fricatives wouldn’t be too much for them, so I looked up a bird utterances paper online, to which I found that the sounds available to them in song are probably slightly different from the sounds available to them in speech. There are probably some replacements when they sing, but at the same time they are Magical Birbs (TM) so their range of available sounds could well be much larger than your garden-variety bird. Do keep in mind that other species also use AL, and I did not go and look up a ‘wolf utterances paper’, so my hc does not take into account the other Laguz :’D Also related, I do firmly believe that speaking MT is not feasible to them in their Laguz form; for stuff like battle cutscenes, regardless of what the graphics render, I think they talk first, and then transform to fight.

Phonology: Tonal changes, differing stress and syllable onset all play a large part in differentiating the subtle intent behind words, at least in the spoken language! In song, that’s often replaced by vowel shifts, some of which do not naturally occur in speech, so it’s a music-only feature of the language, which might have something to do with seid magic. If you disregard all the subtle phonology changes, you’ll get the general gist of what they’re saying, but miss a whole load of nuances behind it, similar to, say, the way sarcasm is used in MT.

Morphology: The absolute bulk of AL’s ‘complexity’ stem from morphology! Every single word is tagged with all the information, including but not limited to: tense, aspect, mood, gender, case, number, and even things like ‘relative degree’, ‘relative status between speaker and listener’, or ‘special emphasis’ and the like. Perhaps there used to be more variance, or maybe there still is for other ‘dialects’ of AL (will the Herons and the Wolves really speak the exact same language after being separated for centuries? Unlikely), but at least the Herons’ version of AL is extremely ordered (get it?), and there is basically no irregularity in the application of morphemes. Learn all the intricate rules exactly once, and you’re all set for life, but there are a lot of rules. It’s interesting that the wiki mentioned it was more complex for Laguz - later on I think it’s said that, however, eventually the Laguz’ long lifespans allowed them to master the language better.

Syntax: Think Latin, but even freer than that, since there is no such thing as emphasis through position and everything is indicated in tones and by the morphology. Any word can go anywhere in the sentence and it’ll make perfect sense and mean exactly what you want it to mean, which is great for these birb singers! Very few headaches about how to fit lyrics to make sense :’D This, however, is the main reason Leanne pauses so much when speaking MT! She knows her grammatical options are severely more limited there than in AL, so she needs to think about how the sentence is supposed to be structured before she says it. And while I am biased towards making her replies actually make sense to the other person, she probably does make weird grammatical mistakes every so often.

Vocabulary/Semantics: This is probably the part I’ve mentioned the most in posts already, but AL has a relatively small pool of vocabulary, with differences in nuance indicated mainly by morphology and tone. For instance, ‘walk’ and ‘run’ would be two different words, but ‘jog’, ‘run’ and ‘sprint’ would be the same word with a slightly different indicator for ‘relative speed’. I actually have not consciously taken to doing this (yet), but in practice, Leanne, as an unexperienced speaker who still thinks mostly in terms of AL, would tend to prefer using simple words with additional adjectives/adverbs (e.g. ‘run fast’ or ‘run slow’ instead of ‘sprint’ or ‘jog’) when speaking MT.

Pragmatics: If you have a good grasp of the phonology and morphology and what they entail, you’ll generally understand what the person is trying to say, but if not, then a lot of their conversations will appear to not follow any known rules of conversation at all. As AL is a very old language, I figure a lot of the pragmatics side has strong ties to basic instincts and body language, which animals are often better at reading than humans are, so a lot of that plays into AL conversation as well!

Ok, but then why can Leanne understand everything but not speak well? As I mentioned before in the hcs channel on discord, I hc that Bird Laguz are born in their bird form, before going through Laguz Puberty at a later age, whereby they gain and are then locked into their humanoid forms as their default form. This, for Leanne, probably happened during her time asleep in the forest, so she was a baby bird for her entire time alive before the Serenes Massacre, which happened when she was about 2.5 years old in equivalent Beorc age, since Reyson calls her an ‘infant’ during that time. Now, 2.5-year-olds don’t normally understand everything you tell them! However, and this actually is a gripe I have with a lot of long-lived characters with a long infancy period, this is really not the same as a human situation. I briefly looked this up, and a baby who is considered ‘spoken to a lot’ might hear about 15,000 words a day. For Leanne, who had 6 siblings and 2 parents and a whole forest of other playmates, I might even think she’ll have heard more, but some of that was AL so probably about 15,000 words of MT a day sounds about right. But unlike a 2.5-year-old human baby, she’s been getting that for a whole entire 47 years. That means, before she even has the capability to speak a single word of MT, she’s already heard way more words spoken at her than the average adult Beorc, certainly more than one of her mental age of 18. Thus, while she’s still struggling to learn to produce the language, listening is usually no problem to her, unless the interlocutor in question speaks very quickly, or uses unfamiliar figures of speech / very difficult vocabulary! Like, Leanne probably won’t get anywhere talking with Awakening’s Miriel, but she can probably understand any average speaker just fine.

TL;DR because this is really long: the ‘complexity’ of AL is mainly in its vastly intricate phonology and morphology, which also results in a rich and confusing-to-outsiders system of pragmatics, while phonetics and vocabulary are very simple, and syntax is basically nonexistent. Certainly a very different kind of language from MT, which is why Leanne struggles when speaking, despite being receptively fluent!))

#♪ an imaginary forest (hcs)#there's a tldr at the bottom of this ridic text wall :'D #♪ conductor's baton (ooc)

8 notes · View notes

itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

Text

Welcome back, everyone!

A quick note before we begin: after the previous recap a couple of lovely friends and anons explained to me some discrepancies in my work, mainly about how Fox's semblance functions and how much info we’ve gotten on that previously. They're worth a read if (like me) you haven't read After the Fall and would like a more accurate picture of this whole project. However, I have to admit that sadly past!me didn’t think through the usefulness of those posts and tag them appropriately... so they’re just somewhere in the mess that is the “rwby” and “mymetas” tags. Still, I wanted to acknowledge their existence, both for your potential use and as another disclaimer along the lines of, “I’m reading what amounts to a sequel and recapping as I go. Prepare for a bumpy ride.”

We're on chapter five now (of twenty-two! Holy god I’m slow!!) and truth be told I actually enjoyed this opening. We're in Yatsuhashi's head this time around and he's likewise enjoying Vacuo's Meeting Spot, an "artificial oasis" that reminds him of his mother's healing gardens. I wonder what "healing" means in this particular context. A generalized benefit to your body, mind, and spirit in the form of meditation? Or a more literal, magic-based healing with its roots in aura use? In a world with RWBY's possibilities, a healing garden that someone like Ozpin might run—let's take time to settle ourselves and reflect—vs. one that someone like Jaune would create—let me use my semblance to literally heal your wounds—are rather different things. I'd be interested to know which category (or another) Yatsuhashi's mother falls under.

Regardless, it's a satisfyingly quiet scene. Yatsuhashi comments on both the beauty of the oasis as well as how that beauty, in turn, raises the desert in his eyes. Nothing like not having to deal with a hard landscape to make that landscape seem more bearable, alluring even, and this moment managed to capture that feeling rather well. The only downside is that, in a recurring theme, I once again got whiplash upon realizing that Yatsuhashi is not standing alone in the peace of the early morning, like the description had led me to believe. Apparently Velvet is there. As well as the whole freaking student body! Myers* has this strange habit of writing one kind of scene only to suddenly reveal that the scene is actually radically different from what his writing had encouraged you to imagine. Yatsuhashi is going on about healing, natural beauty, and the peace of an early morning. What's peaceful about dozens of students speculating beside him? Have you ever met a school of sleep deprived young adults dealing with a surprise announcement before breakfast? That’s as far from peaceful as humanly possible.

Mood, kid.

(*Also yes, we're working to write Myers' name correctly this chapter. If I'm going to drag his work so much the least I can do is not add an additional 'e' to his name lol.)

Along with the entirety of Shade Academy to break the peace, Yatsuhashi tells us about dromedons and mole crabs. The former, according to the wiki, is a "camel-like Grimm that can spit acidic venom" and also sports an armored hump. Fun! The latter, according to Yatsuhashi, is a "horrifying" creature that "slept just below the sand and could cut a person in two with their massive claws." And they're the normal, non-grimm animals! Screw Salem. Humanity needs huntsmen just to keep people safe from the everyday wildlife. Crabs cut people in two, Zwei is capable of being set on fire and launched at a mech... it's a miracle that anyone ever steps outside their home.

I do write this with full knowledge that Australia exists, but still.

As Yatsuhashi moves away from thoughts of killer crabs, we begin what is easily the strangest bit of repetition this chapter. Yatsuhashi's shoulder is sore from having tried to break down the hideout door and I'm going, "Wait no, you used your sword” and frantically flipping back through my PDF. To Myers' credit, there is a detail that suggests Yatsuhashi uh... rammed the door? I think? Last chapter he "Stepped forward and Fox heard him grunt with exertion." That's the only thing I can think of that would explain his shoulder unexpectedly being sore hours later: if he'd charged it instead of doing something insane like, oh, I don't know, trying the doorknob first. Odd choice of continuity, but okay. What's super weird though is that Myers repeats the detail again:

Yatsuhashi crossed his arms, then grimaced as a fresh pain shot through his shoulder. Come on, Aura, he thought. Do your thing.

I'm sorry, how badly did you hurt your shoulder? Why does a supposedly intelligent student immediately resort to what is apparently somewhat serious self-harm when faced with a closed door? Why is Myers choosing this of all things to tell us about? Is this incredibly random shoulder injury going to hinder Yatsuhashi during the test? Spoilers: I don't think it does considering that I searched for "shoulder" in my PDF and there's just a lot of hands on shoulders coming up, but nothing that, at first glance, seems to make this kind of set up necessary. So I say again: weird.

Meanwhile, weirdness doesn’t even acknowledge the continued inconsistencies with aura. Jaune heals a cut on his cheek instantaneously, but hours later Yatsuhashi needs to gripe at his aura to hop-to already? So either Jaune’s aura is far more powerful than the average person’s (never established outside of Pyrrha’s “You have a lot of it” comment), or Yatsuhashi really hurt his shoulder that badly. Hard enough that with the rest of the night and early morning to heal him, his aura is still working overtime.

Alrighty then.

So the whole student body is just kind of hanging out, striking up casual conversations. Velvet asks how Yatsuhashi is doing and he says he's fine, "Thanks to you." Wait... what did Velvet do? I mean yeah, she was there last night and she's here now, but so is the rest of the team. I don't really recall her helping Yatsuhashi in any specific way. As is the norm now, I remain mildly, endlessly confused by this novel.

But we don’t have time to delve into the gratitude attached to events I’m not actually sure happened. There’s more chit chat going on as everyone tries to figure out why they've been summoned so early in the morning. "It's not always about us," Velvet says and I nod along in agreement even though I know, as a reader, that it's absolutely about them. "As I'm often reminding Coco."

Coco fires back with how it "could be about us," noting that it would be pretty coincidental if something else was going on right now, plus Rumpole may have realized they were out last night. (Remember, Yatsuhashi wasn't subtle about trying to break down that door). This is one of those moments where I agree wholeheartedly with Coco's logic, but kind of hate to encourage the 'It's all about us' attitude. Velvet might be smiling, but as previously established this is an ongoing theme within RWBY's characterization that it could really stand to do without.

Yatsuhashi then offers some "unsolicited advice" about how Rumpole could afford to slow down some and "let things come at their own pace," to which I respond, "Huh?" Where in the world did this come from? Previously the whole group—including Yatsuhashi, considering he didn't speak out against it—was concerned that Rumpole wasn't doing enough to track down the Crown. That is, do more, move faster, get it done already. You haven’t gotten it done? Okay, we’ll do it instead. Now he's providing this subtle criticism in response to a meeting, as if that's an inherently odd or bad thing for a headmistress to do. You want the woman to do extra work faster but slow down when it comes to her actual job?

It reads to me like Myers is trying to put a lot of wise-sounding dialogue into Yatsuhashi's mouth—you know, the Asian character who keeps bringing up things like meditation and mindfulness—but hasn't bothered to think about whether that dialogue makes any sense. Of course, we then immediately backtrack to reveal that his comment was really about Coco not pushing the team too hard, but... that's not what he said? And Coco clearly didn't get the message. And the hidden meaning of the words didn't come across too well if your reader is squinting at what was said until the author has to straight up go, 'This is what Yatsuhashi actually meant.' Maybe just... have him say that? Give us some significant looks towards Coco, at the very least. Something to clue us in here that Yatsuhashi is (weirdly) blaming Rumpole for Coco's flaw.

Then he just ruins the whole scene further by mentally commenting that if all this extra work was hard on them, "what would it do to SSSN?" Ugh, look. I don't even like SSSN very much. I didn't shed a tear when they left the main series and would shrug if they ever came back, so you know the story is ragging on them too much when I'm standing up for the group at the bottom of my Character Adoration list. The duality of 'SSSN is so incompetent I don't even know how they're alive' and 'That, in comparison, makes us the best team ever' got old forty pages ago, yet I have the distinct feeling it won't be letting up any time soon.

Headmaster Theodore finally arrives to break up this thrilling conversation and the students erupt into thunderous applause. "It was what [he] expected. It was what he inspired whenever he appeared." That... is absolutely hilarious. This guy is so much of a showman, so insanely over the top, that he expects people to treat his everyday appearance as a spectacle worthy of praise and they agree. You know who he reminds me of?

The king himself, Alex Louis Armstrong. I'm digging this already. It's absurd and I will forever question RWBY's ability to balance comedy with its darker tones... but I'm counting this one as a win so far. There's got to be something to praise about this book.

Just as important, we get a description of Theodore's positively insane outfit. I immediately googled to see if someone had drawn him and the fandom did not disappoint. I'm not going to include the image here in case the artist, Edisu, doesn't want their work reposted like that, but I highly recommend you check out the link and get a visual.

The only thing left to say about this fashion monstrosity is that he has a "flowing gray-blue cape, the color of a stormy sky." I'll let our favorite textile engineer make my point for me:

Honestly, between Ruby's cape and Weiss' hair someone is going to end up in trouble one of these days.

In this world free of horrific cape tragedies, we've segued into a flashback which is, frankly, kind of boring compared to the others we’ve gotten. It's just the group meeting Theodore, information and characterization that could have easily been distributed to the audience in the present. It's starting to feel like the structure of including a flashback each chapter is hindering Myers somewhat, just because every chapter doesn’t necessarily need one, but that’s far from the biggest issue to tackle.

We learn that Theodore (really Rumpole) did a bunch of research on all the students involved in the Vytal Festival and they're very pleased that Team CFVY has joined them now, despite the horrific circumstances. We again hear about how judgmental Coco can be, that her judgements are rarely wrong... but if they are wrong she's the last to admit it. So really that's less of a 'This character has good instincts about other people' and more 'This character is just, as said, judgmental and then stubborn about it when she’s wrong.' Theodore, however, seems like a cool dude:

“Ah, she speaks!” Theodore strode toward Velvet. His voice softened. “You didn’t fail, my dear. You fought. You stayed, far longer than anyone would have asked or expected of a student. And now you’re here. Do you want to be here? Will you fight for Shade the way you did for Beacon, Velvet Scarlatina?”

This is great. This is the kind of reassurance I would expect from a headmaster who, thus far, has received a fair amount of praise. Unlike his students, Theodore understands the risks Beacon students took and when it was time for them to make a life-saving retreat. He's inspiring while also being empathetic and honestly? That's the most I've had that 'You're a good person' sense from RWBY in a very long time.

Now watch Theodore turn out to be evil lol.

He cuts the tension of the serious conversation by proclaiming that if any of them doubt whether they should be here, they should take it up with him via a fight. Theodore announces this while striking a pose. I say again:

We then get some more reflection on how Theodore compares to Ozpin:

Ozpin had believed in you before you did, almost like he knew your true potential, despite what your transcripts or fighting abilities looked like. Theodore believed you had potential, but you had to earn it and prove yourself to him first.

I agree with that and I'm pleased to see that this time the comparison didn't involve criticizing Ozpin in an effort to build Theodore up. It’s likewise a useful description and I think it provides us with at least one interpretation of why the RWBYJNR group has discarded Ozpin so thoroughly. The addition "despite what your transcripts or fighting abilities looked like" implies that Ozpin sees potential in everyone. It doesn't matter how presumably flawed you might be—in physical strength, like Jaune; in morals, like Lionheart— Ozpin will see the good in you and give that good a fighting chance. That's why he's the one tasked with doing something as crazy as uniting the whole world because he's the one person capable of seeing that potential in literally everyone. That much is true. But the flipside of this is that, unlike when in interacting with someone like Theodore, no one expects to have to work for Ozpin's faith, his praise... his trust. With Theodore you have to "earn" the respect he gives you right from the start. With Ozpin it's free! So surely that means such faith extends to every possible situation, right?

Which is when you run into trouble. When the situation is no longer "I'll give you a chance in my school" but something much more serious like "I'm risking the whole world on your character." Ozpin is an optimist, but he's also cautious as hell (with good reason), so though he sees the potential in everyone he knows he can't let his own hope for humanity blind him to reality. That person might betray you. They might turn on you. They might give up and hurt you in the process... even if you want to believe that people are simply better than that. Wanting doesn’t make it so.

If someone who had as little interaction with Ozpin as Team CFVY did nevertheless developed such a strong sense of, "Yeah, he believes in everyone!" then it seems likely that Team RWBY, already sporting a special connection with him, thought they were shoe-ins for every possible secret and task they might ask of him. Their time at Beacon was defined largely by both intentional favoritism and coincidences that could arguably be read as such. Ruby gets to go to Beacon two years early. She gets to be team leader. The sisters stay together despite teams supposedly being random. Team RWBY goes on missions not meant for first years. Team RWBY is given a nudge-nudge-wink-wink about The White Fang so that they can do what they’re able to help. Team RWBY was friends with Pyrrha, next in line for the Maiden powers. They got used to Ozpin simultaneously solving all the real problems that showed up and letting them play at being important, all while the rest of the school had to follow normal rules. They’re special. But then Beacon falls, the game is over, and they're blindsided by having to earn trust and privileges in the real world. Playing at huntresses in the safety of your headmaster’s school is over and Ruby in particular never got that there was a massive difference between that and a real war where the fate of the world hangs on your trustworthiness and ability to keep it together. It’s why she announces to the Argus guards that she is a huntress while attacking the people she’s meant to protect.

Which would be a fantastic arc to give them if the show ever had someone sit the group down and tell them how childish and selfish they're being. Instead, they're still being handed that trust and privilege—you can go into Atlas despite stealing from the military, you get your licenses years early, you get to carry an incalculably valuable relic around—while likewise still getting mad that the adults around them don't give them more. This comparison here, though realistically just a throwaway passage in a novel rather iffily connected to its original series, starts to highlight the excellent situation RT set up... and then didn't do anything with.

But I've gone on about this long enough. There are just two other things I'd like to point out about this flashback. The first is that it may help us get a handle on Ozpin's age (if we're willing to accept these books as canon, despite their other inconsistencies). Earlier we're told that "Headmaster Theodore’s whole style should have been ridiculous for a man likely in his forties, maybe older" and here, in describing their different approaches, we get "Headmaster Ozpin, who had been younger but seemed much older." So that could potentially put Ozpin his his late 30s if he's noticeably younger than Theodore in his 40s. Or, in his 40s if the "maybe older" part is right and Theodore is in his 50s. I can’t imagine that Theodore is in his 60s. Not much to go on, admittedly, but I'll take whatever I can get. The interesting thing is that if Ozpin really is that young and Qrow is now (presumably) in his early 40s, wouldn't that have made them basically the same age during his Beacon days? Perhaps even giving us an Ozpin who was younger than his oldest students? I don't know. It's really less of a definitive piece of information and more messy speculation to add to the pile—which is par the course for RWBY nowadays.

The second detail I wanted to point out was that despite all their supposed differences, Headmaster Theodore and Professor Rumpole have a very Ozpin-Glynda relationship going on. For all the cosmetic changes it boils down to the same dynamic. Both headmasters are powerful, quirky men who at first glance appear to be rather useless at their jobs, requiring the confident headmistress to swoop in and manage the daily running of a school. Those two do the heavy lifting while their bosses work wonders from behind the scenes (a la The Wizard). When I read Rumpole chastising Theodore for claiming he investigated the students, or when she reminds him that there isn't time to have an impromptu duel with his students, I couldn't help but think about Glynda reluctantly letting Ozpin invite Ruby to Beacon early, or cleaning up the cafeteria while he shrugs off the mess. To be clear, I don't necessarily mean this as a criticism, just an observation. In truth I'm not sure how I feel about it, but it adds to the overall sense that Shade is just Beacon with a slightly different coat of paint. As I've mentioned previously, for all the text's insistence that Shade isn't like the other schools, the story hasn't done a good job of demonstrating that cultural difference in any meaningful way and similarities like this only add to the feeling that this isn't really a unique Kingdom—or at least not one with a firm enough identity to be persuasively unique. Same rule breaking team sneaking out on their own mission. Same secondary team who’s talented, but not as special as the protagonists. Same strange man with his responsible woman running the school. The details differ, obviously, but the structure feels largely the same.

As mentioned above, once the flashback ends Theodore tries to spar with one of the students but is quickly shut down by Rumpole because, you know, they have a meeting to hold. Apparently there have been complaints lately from the local security about Shade students interfering with official huntsmen business.

“I told you it was about us,” Coco muttered.

Coco, when you hear that people are pissed that you, an unlicensed student, are disrupting the careers of professionals every night the takeaway should not be, 'Aha! I knew it was all about me.'

Yatsuhashi at least provides a more nuanced perspective. "This wasn’t right, though. If they hadn’t interfered, those Huntsmen would have kidnapped an innocent person." He's right. They did help someone, but what they've failed to learn is that an individual good deed does not excuse the unlawful steps they took in getting there. If Team CFVY had just been out on the town and happened to spot some shady characters pulling shit, then put a stop to their kidnapping, that's fine. That's heroic. What is not heroic is them going out with the express purpose of fixing a situation that trained professionals told them they should not be trying to fix—key word being “trying,” given that they all understand Rumpole’s worry that they’ll make things worse. It was enough to send them back home last night... after Yatsuhashi failed to break into the hideout. The problem is not the "I helped someone who needed it" part but rather the "I'm arrogant enough to think that my presence is necessary" bit.

If having students conducting investigations was wanted or necessary, it would be a part of the curriculum: acknowledged or otherwise. AKA yes, Ruby. It would be very helpful if you'd head on off to Mountain Glenn, under the observation of a seasoned huntsmen, and report back if there's any dubious activity going on over there. Ozpin said, 'Yes please' to the extra (highly controlled) help while these professionals are saying, 'No thanks.' The fact that Team CFVY acts is if they're justified in continuing this investigation—and worse, that the story keeps validating those feelings—undermines their otherwise heroic actions. RWBY really is a series that struggles with giving its protagonists compelling reasons for getting involved in the fight. ‘Because I want to help’ might be a noble motivation, but that doesn’t necessarily mean you should. The Mountain Glenn mission was like a chef allowing a talented, aspiring teen to help them with a dish, all of it done under their tutelage. Team CFVY’s investigation is like the teen sneaking into the kitchen after dark to doctor all the prep for the next day’s cooking under the assumption that they’ll make it even better. Hell, maybe they will! But that’s not the point. Your help was not invited — explicitly denied, actually —and there’s a very good chance you’ll mess something up.

So because this group of eight continually insists that they know best, the whole school is required to stay on campus after nightfall. Huzzah!

It’s just too bad these consequences hurt others just as much as Team CFVY. The other students are pissed about this. I would be too! Team CFVY remains adamant though that they did the right thing, no guilt here, relying on the reader inaccurately comparing ‘saving lives’ with ‘losing free time off campus’ in order to come out on Team CFVY's side. They still fail to understand that helping people is not the reason they’re being punished.

Theodore and Rumpole reiterate that they are working on a solution and that no one else should be getting involved. Team CVFY is no more persuaded by this speech than they were the previous ones. The announcement then segues into discussion of the former Haven students which produces... boos from the audience?? My god, what is wrong with this school? I mean I get it, school is brutal—both in real life and fiction—especially when the social dynamics of your school are written much more like a high school than a college, but usually if characters are going to drag new students it's in the semi-privacy of a bathroom or an empty hall. Groaning over the existence of war survivors in front of your headmaster is a level of confident cruelty I didn't expect.

Then again, RWBY is the show that gave us Cardin pulling on Velvet's ears in the middle of the cafeteria, so perhaps I shouldn't be surprised.

Theodore quickly bypasses the whole 'A decent number of my students hate these other students' issue and instead acknowledges that it is "difficult to adjust to a new school, an entirely new group of classmates, and most of all to life in Vacuo. Yet some of you have been separated from your original training teams.” Which is a nice way of saying that a good number of these teammates are dead. So what's the solution here?

Reinitiation Ceremony!

I'm sarcastic, but in all honesty I don't hate this idea. Far from it. Partly because I have a strong love of competitions in shonen-esque stories. Tests, trials, the obligatory tournament arc... they've always been some of my favorite parts of a series, largely because they allow the author to develop whacky and creative challenges that show off important characterization. See: Killua using a skateboard during the tunnel run before deciding that if Gon can manage running it, he can too; or Izuku using the mines and a piece of scrap to blast himself ahead of Bakugo and Todoroki. The structure of such tests forces characters to demonstrate creativity and critical thinking skills alongside strength, and that in turn reminds us of why they're our heroes. RWBY managed this a little bit with the Vytal Festival, but overall I don’t think the teams did anything particularly impressive to win. Team RWBY worked together, Nora hit people really hard with her hammer, Weiss' injury pissed off Yang enough to tap into more power... it was all stuff we had seen before and very little of it required planning or creativity. The Vytal Festival functioned more to set up the plot developments of Volume 3, which is fine, though for a while I had hoped that we would get a huntsmen license exam to do this sort of work... which obviously didn’t happen. Disappointing, but we’re at least getting something like that here.

So I love the concept. I even love the general reasoning behind holding the ceremony at all. Anyone who had spent five minutes on this blog knows that I think the groups need to learn to play well with others. Yet I also can't deny that the team dynamics provide stability for these characters, even if they've come to rely on that stability to an unhealthy degree. We've got students whose teams were presented to them not just as a professional tool, but their primary support system. You live with these people, attend all the same classes, spend your free time together, and survive life-threatening situations on a fairly regular basis. It's work, family, and friendship all rolled into one, so if the headmaster suddenly says that you get a new team, that's a whole lot more devastating than just learning that you've got a new project group to deal with. It shouldn't have come to that—a school looking to teach a profession that requires working with a wide variety of individuals should never have told four students to rely one each other and each other alone—but now that we're here you can't just break them apart with no notice. Especially with a traumatic war going on. It's hard to come to a new school, meet new people, learn a new culture... so let me rip away the one piece of familiarity you have left.

Of course, I don't really think that the teams will be broken up irrevocably, if at all. Rather, I simply want to acknowledge that despite my appreciation for these kinds of stories and despite my desire that the teams get some distance... it shouldn't be done like this. Even more-so when it’s abundantly clear—to us if not the instructors—that this little stunt is causing their students to re-live a whole bucket load of trauma. Yatsuhashi thinks about how this feels like an “out of body experience” and “It reminded [him] uncomfortably of the evacuation of Beacon Academy… He felt his breath catch in his throat.” Coco’s order to stick together “[brought] him back to the moment,” re-emphasizing that he was lost in the past for a while there. He’s clearly struggling.

Now, to be fair, this could all fall under the category of flawed characters. Meaning, anytime something awful happens in fiction we can interpret that as a skill on the part of the author: they wanted to write a scenario where the teachers are screwing up and unintentionally hurting their students. Or they know they’re hurting their students and consider that to be an acceptable sacrifice under the justification of ‘They have to get over Beacon at some point!’ There are lots of ways to paint this as Myers/RT writing complex, human characters who make ambiguous choices—a testament to their ability to write “realistically.” But to be frank I don’t really buy it. Simply because I’ve had a lot of experience now with how RWBY handles subjects like trauma and it’s only rarely been written respectfully and engagingly. I could be proven wrong as the novel continues, but it seems more likely that Myers wrote the instructors coming up with this test, wrote Yatsuhashi panicking over it, and intends to continually imply that these two things are separate plot points. Bringing both together in a narratively useful way would require acknowledging the instructors’ motivations—Why this test? Why now? Do they realize the harm they’re causing? If so, do they think it’s worth it?—and then coming to some sort of resolution, either via some recovery on CFVY’s part due to the instructors’ choices (this test did help us move past Beacon), or the instructors learning something about empathy and trauma via CFVY’s reaction (we never should have done this). I highly doubt we’ll get either.

Thus, everyone is (justifiably) horrified. The teams are gone and either the shock of that made Team CFVY prioritize feelings of safety over strategy, or they're just not going to demonstrate any of the intelligence I look for in this kind of arc, because they immediately start obsessing over staying together.

He needed to keep his team close to him. Especially Velvet. If they weren’t separated, they couldn’t be assigned to different teams.

Yatsuhashi, that is not at all what Rumpole told you:

“It’s already begun,” Rumpole said. “Everything you do from this moment forward will factor into your evaluations for new teams.”

Where in the world did you get the idea that you wouldn't be assigned a new team so long as you stuck with your old one? If I were one of the instructors here that choice would make me more likely to separate them. "Everything you do from this moment," Rumpole says, meaning that how they respond to this information is a part of the test. The team that panics and refuses to separate is the team that either can't function without one another, or at the very least believes that they can't. They're not willing to work with others and thus they're precisely the type that needs to learn this skillset. You're the ones they'll want to give new teammates to.

Of course, fate has different ideas about how things should go down. And by "fate" I mean "A completely ridiculous plot device." Team CFVY is separated because... the crowd is large I guess? It’s ridiculous. Four fighters already standing beside one another and who are now hyper-focused on staying together are not going to get swept away by a Shade size crowd who probably also want to stick with their own teammates. There are far better, far more convincing ways to keep them apart. Ozpin shot students one-by-one into the forest! Literally anything other than what we got, really.

Still, that’s what we wound up with. Yatsuhashi and Coco both try to keep the team together only for the immense power of other people existing putting a stop to their plan. Alrighty then. Before they’re dramatically swept away on different ships, however, we do get two other noteworthy bits of information that I'd like to end on. The first is Rumpole’s announcement that “When you reach your destination, your goal will be to locate a gold figurine and bring it back to the school” to which Fox replies, “Great. Glad this is fair for everyone. Who can see.” And you know what? He's right. Maybe Fox and I will both be proven wrong (I feel like I'm writing that a lot this chapter...) but unless there's some miscommunication here or a surprise in store, a goal of "locat[ing] a gold figurine" is indeed a sight based challenge and, when placed in a test that is deliberately separating Fox from his team, puts him at a severe disadvantage.

The second is simply that the year levels of the students will not be a factor in the creation of new teams. “What year we are? Yatsu thought. This can’t be right. How could a first-year keep up with fourth-years?” to which I respond, "Um... that's the entire show?" The webseries RWBY is about how Team RWBY, starting out as first years, has surpassed everyone around them, to the point where they're now beating the best team in Atlas. Time-wise they're still second years—far as I can figure out, anyway—so if second years can beat elite military operations, a first year can stand toe-to-toe with second, third, and fourth years. More crucial to Yatsuhashi's thought process—because as an in-world character he doesn't necessarily know what Team RWBY has been up to post-Volume 3—he's still seen how well first years did at Beacon. Ruby was let in two years early. Pyrrha is such a phenomenally talented fighter her face is on their cereal boxes. A first year, Yang, went on to compete in the Vytal Tournament final (even if it was rigged. Yatsuhashi doesn't know that), and Team CFVY fought beside a number of first years at the Battle of Beacon. Now, you all know that I think education and experience are damn important. I'm not saying Yatsuhashi is flat-out wrong to question whether there would be any issues attached to slamming, say, a first year, two second years, and a fourth year into one team (especially when you consider practical questions like going to classes), but the general takeaway of "How could they keep up?" seems a tad strange. You know first years can keep up. You watched it happen, both in your former school's curriculum—first years get to go on an upper-level mission—and in real life battle. This knee-jerk response reads as even worse after five chapters of looking down on Team SSSN. Team CFVY really thinks highly of themselves, huh.

Honestly, it feels like our authors didn't pay a whole lot of attention to the implications of the dialogue/thoughts they’re giving to the characters which is, again, par for the course at this point. Like the questions attached to the test, this feels less like giving Yatsuhashi a flaw (he, as an in-world character, hasn't bothered to think through whether his knee-jerk assumption about first years is supported by his experiences) and more like a flaw of the creators. That sounds like a legitimate concern—in the same way that Yatsuhashi's advice to Rumpole sounds generically wise—but poke at it a bit and you start finding a number of cracks. An author who is well aware of the world they've built and strives to adhere to it might have had Yatsuhashi acknowledge some of the amazing things he's seen first years do and still conclude that there are problems with this decision. That's legit. As it stands, Yatsuhashi just sounds ignorant and (again) overly confident, which I don't trust to be a moment of character insight as opposed to an authorial blip.

Which is about where we end. The team is split on different airships, no one is happy about it, and we're left with this somewhat unsettling image:

Headmaster Theodore was waving and whooping, like it was all some terrific game, while Professor Rumpole watched silently, her hair whipping around in the wind and an unsettling grin on her face.

This gives me some hope that the story will treat the problems attached to this test respectfully. The description of Theodore acting "like it was all some terrific game" is a mark against his character and Rumpole straight up has an "unsettling grin on her face." Is she one of the baddies? Potentially. Will I ever again get adult characters who aren't depicted as inept, traitorous, or just so flawed that they unwittingly cause great damage to their students? Probably not. These two desires remain constantly at war with one another. RWBY introduces issues that the story should tackle, but the only issues it acknowledges are those attached to the adults. So we have everyone doing a range of iffy things, but only the elders are likely to be punished or (better yet) learn something over the course of the tale. The double standard remains so strong across the franchise that at this point I just want to raise a THE ADULTS DID NOTHING WRONG banner and call it a day. Not because they're actually free of mistakes or even, at times, downright cruelty, but because if our protagonists constantly get that free pass I'm not sure why everyone else can't too.

Anyone for a spot of denial?

But I've now written nearly twice as much as the actual chapter in question. It's time to stop! At this rate I’ll have written the equivalent of five Before the Dawns in my attempt to recap just one. #yikes

Until Chapter Six 💜

#rwby #BTD Recaps #Before the Dawn #mymetas

22 notes · View notes

veridium · 6 years ago

Text

heartbreak warfare

WELCOME TO MORE QUEER PAIN

Hope ya’ll are ready for some shit. Because I brought the shit. Heaping dose, because I have had a wonderful day and feel all mushy. Enjoy!

part one // last episode

-- The man was a no-good blond bastard with too much wool in his wardrobe and clumsy taste in flowers. White carnations represent pure love, and he had the audacity to come around with a fist of them. He should have crawled up the stairs on his knees if he wanted to present pure love. Yelling at him made Olivia feel close to the goddess Medusa in levels of vindicated fury, though she was inconvenienced by the lack of hair snakes.

Despite her almighty and supernatural ire, Ellinor granting him entry is something she disagrees with but ultimately respects: her best friend is tired, and deserves to feel loved, and maybe the one silver lining is that there isn’t much else Cullen Rutherfudger can mess up more. Maybe if they get it together she won’t have to peel her up off the floor next weekend. Damn, had their standards for a good Saturday crashed down below sea level.

But, she will be keeping a close eye on him. A very close, and scathing, eye. To be fair, the man shows up and tows the line when he has fucked up; which is more than she can say for who she once thought of as a potential suitor as Sunday passes with no word. Potential suitor. Ugh, that kind of working only happens when you’ve paid attention to someone who’s a rhetorical romantic. Too much attention.

Monday comes, and is mundane. She keeps a low profile, and attends classes with little fuss; her Professor asks how she is doing because of her silence in class discussion, and she gives an excuse about getting over a head cold. Yeah, right. Besides lecture and a short shift at the gym, she goes back home to continue being reclusive. She does not cross paths with Ellinor much, though she fields the almost hourly texts asking her how she is, where she is, and if she needs anything. Ellinor is doing that innocent thing all friends do when they find themselves luckier in personal exploits than their loved ones: sympathy that is all-too-easily swallowed as pity when you’ve been kicked down one-too-many times.

Tuesday also comes and goes. Classes and a midterm exam, one she completes with confidence; cold war history is interesting enough. It helped that she had someone, for a brief time, to rant about it and dissect things. During the free response portion she uses a word Cassandra did during one of their debates: “pejorative.” How the hell she knew that word was whatever.

Then, Wednesday. Even though it’s only been a few days, when she wakes up to Ellinor’s voice it feels like it’s been a century since the last time she’s heard it.

“Liv, release the hostage oreos.” Oh, great. Long time no see, and she’s come into her room just to attack her for her life choices.

Olivia growls and hides away, bastard red velvet oreos in her clutches. “Bite me.”

“Liv. Come on,” Ellinor’s standing by her bed, hands on her hips like a fed up soccer mom trying to get her kid up for school. “You haven’t been responding to my texts and you don’t answer the door. I worried you ate yourself into a coma. I keep hearing the Scientist on repeat through your door. I think I can play the piano part off of just memory alone.”

“Good, maybe Cullen would enjoy another concert.”

“Olivia!”

She gives in and rolls over, tossing the oreos to her without looking. “Fine! Have at ‘em.” Ellinor misses and they fall onto the floor with a sharp, plastic crack. The worst part though is the thought that comes immediately after they crash: Cassandra would have caught it.

She groans again and tosses her comforter over her head. “What time is it? My alarm hasn’t gone off.”

“I caught it as it went off, bitch,” Ellinor grumbles. The sound of her picking up the oreos and tossing them to the table. She cares. I shouldn’t be so mean. She cares.

“Oh. Hm.”

“Seriously, are you alright? You haven’t dropped off the radar with me since that time you shaved half your eyebrows off at the Homecoming after party, remember?”

Oh, Jesus. How could she forget. “Mm. I’m fine. I’ve just been swamped with homework.”

“You? Olivia Sinclair, swamped by homework?” Ellinor’s voice veers farther away, towards the door. “Shit, the rapture must be upon us.”

“Give me a break, please. What are you doing up so early anyway? You don’t have class until…” that was a silly question. There could only be one reason she would be up and about like this. A week ago, it would have been the promise of coffee by Olivia. Now, it’s the promise of someone else’s coffee. Blond roast. Bleh.

“...Uh,” Ellinor chuckles nervously, “Nothing. I’m just hanging out. If you’d rather be left alone, I can go back to--”

“Don’t lay an egg, Ellinor.” Olivia gripes, stretching her toes. “You can say you’re up for him. I’m not a widow. Have fun, whatever it is you heteros do at the crack of dawn besides milking cows and...I don’t know, watching TLC or something.”

Silence. Ellinor sighs, and opens the door. “Okay, Olivia.” Dammit, she feels bad. Ellinor shouldn’t be feeling bad. She deserves to be happy, and she deserves a best friend who would support her being happy. Olivia flips over to lay face down and continue loathing herself. Every bone in her body wants to snarl and hide from everything good and cheery. Soon, Cassandra won’t be the only one steering clear of her, if she keeps this up.

Just outside her shut door, she hears a deeper voice. A deeper, calmer voice. Then Ellinor’s more opinionated tone. She says something bossy -- sounding like ‘I’m gonna kill your roommate for this, I hope you know.’ A sigh immediately responds. Typical. Cullen better have prepared himself to be with a woman who didn’t pull any punches, who could fight her own fights...and sometimes, fights that belong to her friends who have grown too tired of it all.

All she can do is wonder what it’ll take to feel okay again. It is one thing to say you’re hard to love, and make people miserable. It’s another to have someone confirm it so unapologetically.

Wednesday is as repetitive in the first half as Monday was: the same lectures, and then eventually a couple hours in the TA office waiting for nothing and no one to show up for assistance while she grades Blackboard responses to the week’s study question.

She’s in the thick of it when an email notification pops up on her laptop. Her women’s history 305 Professor, saying they’re switching texts for next week’s discussions. They’re going to study Heloise, a 11th century French nun and scholar. Great, fantastic, except none of their texts are about her. The Professor kindly asks they search for the suggested reading online or in the library. Olivia would be completely okay with digging up the text online if her laptop hadn’t just been salvaged from a virus stemming for the last time she did so.

Besides, the library was a reliable source. Why not do something she’s good at, and dig?

With a half hour left in her office hours she takes the liberty to stroll down to the main campus library. The book in particular is old so it should be in the stocks. When she goes to a computer and checks the catalog, she finds one copy is still available; her class’s rush to obtain it free hasn’t nosed her out completely just yet.

The Dewey decimal number takes her to a shelf on the fourth floor, but after 20 minutes of searching she uncovers nothing. No book, no Heloise. Defeated, she stands alone in the aisle and looks around one last time. It should be here, there’s no reason it shouldn’t. It said so in the database.

Climbing down to the main floor, she takes the issue up with the work study student manning the checkout desk.

“I’m sorry,” she says after looking it up on her own computer, “it’s been incorrectly logged. It happens.”

“What? What does that mean?”

“We have a couple satellite locations in town where our reserves are loaned long-term; sometimes their books are kept under our organized log when it’s with them.”

“So...so it is here. In town, right?”

“Oh, yeah, it should be. It’s just at one of our outsourced places.”

She asks if she can check them out still, and to her relief, the answer is yes. The kind woman writes down the address and name of the place for her, so that she can find it for herself once and for all. Handing it to her with a nice-enough smile, she sees her off.

Olivia makes it through the metal detectors before checking the piece of paper with pencil writing.

‘203 Northeast Lillian Way.’ Why is that so familiar? Shit. No, no, no, no. She rips her phone out and starts scrolling feverishly with her thumb through the old and taboo messages between her and she-who-still-shall-not-be-named. Lo and behold, it’s the worst possible outcome: the Church library. Of course, they would demand premium on books about a French Nun. How poetic.

She stands outside the library for a few minutes and deliberates her choices. With any luck, Cassandra is elsewhere -- it’s mid-afternoon, she probably has practice, or volunteer hours, or class. She tries, but she can’t remember for sure what her Tues/Thurs routine is. It’s been that long, or it’s been that hard to have her in her life. Regardless, she needs the book, and if she can get a hold of it she can make a photocopy and give it back with no harm done. It takes her a while, but she convinces herself to make a break for it: pulling out her keys from her bag and heading straight for the blue parking lot where her trusty car is awaiting.

All the same, she can’t help but curse her luck.

The drive to the Church would make her emotional if she had any emotions left to give. Days of alternating between crying, eating junk food, denial, and good ol’-fashioned anger have jaded her. At this point, she would dare the fates that be to make her days. The point between her pulling into the parking lot, turning her car off, and walking inside is all a surreal blur. Once she would have rather walked on a chain-link fence edge barefoot than set foot in a House of God, and now it’s twice in one month’s time.

Walking down the center aisle of the hall isn’t the same without Cassandra there to burst open a door on the other side. The stained glass isn’t as colorful, and the bread bowls aren’t as interesting. Still, thankfully, she finds herself left alone like before: no one to pretend they care about her soul, or ask if she’s been saved. The whole place feels like a ghost town, actually -- an odd thing for 4:30 in the afternoon on a weekday. But who is she to judge? The Pope?

A right, then a left, then up stairs. She logs it all in her head. There’s so much more room in the hallway with just her. Too much room. Eventually, she finds the double-doors. One cocked open, with a wooden stopper wedged underneath it. She hesitates to show herself: she’s not as modest as she was when she first came around, black high-waisted shorts with tights on under, with a black short-sleeve v-neck tucked in. Heels, because, of course -- and they clank on the wood floor.

But she does go in. Brave enough, finally, after a couple breaths: and she’s vindicated for doing so. No one’s in. No school kids hiding out, no Missionary interns studying away. No Cassandra, either, skulking or pacing with a book in her hands contemplating the secrets of the universe. Fabulous, she can pull out the paper in her pocket with the decimal system number, find the damn book, and be out like a thief in the night. The mischievous fates have been thwarted, so it seems. If she ignores the sinking feeling in her stomach and feet, being back where Cassandra first surprised, she can be on with her day.

Coming towards the standalone shelves rowed together, she studies the note she made for herself. The first shelf is way too early in the alphabet, so she comes around to the middle and peeks down the first section. Nothing and no one, and still in the C’s-E’s. She needs J.

Then, the sound of paper rubbing against itself. Like a page being turned. She freezes, takes a breath, and approaches the corner of the second aisle.

God, please, no, anyone but--but it’s her.

Her shoes are hitting the ground too hard for her presence to be a secret, and she knows well enough. She stops, and a heel grades against the wood grain. Cassandra -- dressed in black leggings and a sweatshirt, over-sized, and the most casual she’s ever seen her styled -- is sitting cross-legged on the floor. Up against the stacks, with several books piled around her. One open in her hands, kept in her lap. At the noise of Olivia’s footfalls she looks up. Not expecting her, clearly, her eyes go wide and she jerks up to her feet in the blink of an eye. Agile enough to do so without stumbling all over herself, but not confident enough to stand all tall and proud. Not like she did in the gallery.

Olivia steps back, and she can feel her face sour. She crinkles the paper in her hand, and it bends beneath a fist. She doesn’t respond, only glares with steeled hopelessness.

Cassandra closes the book in her hands. “W-what are you doing here?”

“I came for a book.” Iced, and disdainful.

Her face strains a bit, and she adjusts. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” she rolls her bottom lip and holds her ground. “That is all.” It’s crushing her slowly, the priorities: yell at her, say sorry again, cry, beg. Too many needs and too many wants. She takes a page out of Cassandra’s metaphorical book and holds it all in under a guise of self-sufficient introversion.

“I...okay. D-do you need--”

“No. I know how to work a library.”

“...Alright.” She accepts it, and nods. Olivia sucks on her teeth. They both try to get on with whatever it is they were up to before they were aware of each other’s presence: Cassandra, sitting back down on the ground, and Olivia investigating the far end of the shelf. She tracks down the J’s, but there’s no book in sight. Again. First, twice, and thrice she checks the row where it should be. A couple minutes have passed, and she’s left standing there with no reward to her risk.

She lets out a sigh through puckered lips.

“What are you looking for?” Cassandra’s voice, clear and calm.

She keeps her eyes on the shelf, clinging to the paper. “I don’t need your help.”

“Um…” she treads lightly, very lightly, “some of the shelves are disorganized, because of the students.”

Fan-fucking-tastic. She’ll never find this damn book, she’ll never do her homework, she’ll just drop out and call it good.

“I’m…” she starts, but stops when Cassandra suddenly shows up next to her, having risen to her feet without so much as a sound. She takes hold of the paper that is in a death grip in Olivia’s hands, one which she releases against her better judgement.

She raises a brow. “Hm.”

“It’s--it’s a book with copies of letters from--”

“Heloise and Abelard. I know this anthology, I had it for...um, hm. You won’t find it here, though.”

Olivia slouches, and frustration escapes her. “What? Again?!”

“No,” Cassandra shakes her head, and then turns around, “it’s over here.” Without a word, she walks away, with the presumption that Olivia will come along. An audacious presumption; if she had not come all the way across town to track down the damn thing she would have laughed and said ‘fat chance.’ Beggars can’t be choosers.

They go to the back corner, where there are rows of tall volume books that look like dictionaries. The shelf above them is where Cassandra slants onto her toes and searches. Olivia does her best to keep her eyes preoccupied elsewhere -- anywhere else, but her -- and waits patiently. Finally she falls back, pulling a book out that’s rather small and thin. But it’s weirdly pink, like the catalog image.

“Here,” she breaths, pivoting back to her and holding it out.

Olivia stares at the outstretched book, brow pressing low as she bites back more bitterness on her mind. She takes it, gripping onto the opposite diagonal corner to Cassandra’s grip.

“T-Thanks.” She spits out, holding it to her stomach. “Do you know if I have to….to do anything special to check it out from here? Or do I just take it to the main library?”

“You just take it there…” Cassandra confirms, reaching across her own stomach and clasping onto her elbow.

“Okay.” Olivia keeps her eyes to the ground, and her responses curt. “Thanks again. I’ll be going now.”

“Olivia, I’m sorry.” The words cut through the air like a chef’s knife. Eager, and quick, like it’s the last word she’ll ever get in edgewise. Olivia has turned to the side by the time she hears it, and she stops cold. The book to her belly now feels like armor she can’t live without. She can’t bare to look at her, at whatever face she’s making. It’ll be too sincere, too heartfelt.

“I really don’t want to hear it.”

“I know you don’t, but you deserve to.”

“You thought I deserved to hear a great deal of things.”

“I...I know. And…”

“What?”

“And it was unfair of me. I shouldn’t have cornered you, when you were already feeling uncomfortable. It wasn’t right.”

Olivia sucks in her gut; the words she is saying are too poignant to face with a chin tucked in shame. She looks, only to feel punished for it: Cassandra is frowning, and not the way she does by default. It is a sad one. It makes Olivia’s heart skip, and plummet at the same time.

“Y-you know, Cassandra,” she replies, her voice brittle as her throat gets thicker with tears she thought she had long run out of, “I...I just wish I knew what your secret was.”

Cassandra blinks a few times, beautiful black eyelashes fluttering. “My secret?”

“Yeah. Your secret. The one behind how you always look so undaunted and...and un-phased,” she closes her eyes to hold back tears, and cradles the book in both hands against her. “You know, Cullen talks to Ellinor, and Ellinor talks to me. I hear about how you are minding your own business, going about your day, while I cry myself to sleep or eat my body weight in Taco Bell. Every time. It hurts, but I tell myself, ‘oh, she’s just coping in her own way, she has to be as messed up as I am about this, just as torn up, just as…” she takes a shallow breath, but it does little to assuage her. “‘She has to be just as inexplicably messed up as I am.’ But even when I worried you didn’t care, or that you were indifferent, never did I think you would walk into the room and rip my heart out the way you did.”

Cassandra had become more and more engrossed in a painful kind of way, the more she talked. It wasn’t hard to understand -- it was probably the most brutally candid Olivia had ever been in her presence. Bearing her most cringe-worthy sides of her survival, for reasons she could not articulate half as well.

“So…” she sharply sniffled, “I just want to know what the secret is. What you do, what you...you tell yourself, that makes you so magically put-together. Maybe it’s the same shit you take that convinces you that I’m the one tormenting you when I…” she closes her eyes again, but a stray, small tear runs down the outside corner of her eye. That is enough for her. “You know, whatever. I’m...I’m not gonna…” she started to walk back, verbally and physically, expecting nothing else but her own shame.

A few steps, and then, the second twist of the knife.

“Liv, please.” Once again, she asks, and once again, Olivia stops. This time, her back is to her.

“I…” Cassandra takes a moment, collecting her breath by the sounds of it. “Cullen knows me, but he doesn’t know...me. He sees me coming and going, but he doesn’t know what happens while I’m getting by. If he did, he’d tell Ellinor--or, probably you, more like--that from the moment you first spoke to me I haven’t been able to get your voice out of my head. I’ve never been good with sentimentality, much as I appreciate it. But when I’m...when I’m around you it feels like I don’t have to worry. If anything’s been a secret, it’s been that.”

The sensation of hugging her in this room is still fresh. The way her arms wrapped around her waist, the way her breath felt against her neck. The briefness of it, and wishing it could last. But nothing lasts. Head high as much as she could pretend, she swallows stiff and keeps her eyes on the door for just a beat longer. Then, she faces her again. And Cassandra, she...her red eyes, her slightly red, tired eyes. It’s horrible.

“If you were so crazy about me, then why didn’t you kiss me? I was all yours, I was--”

“Because I didn’t want it to be like that.”

“...You…”

Cassandra sighs tersely, rubbing the side of her face. Exasperated. “I didn’t want the first time I ever kissed you to be during a fight about you being slut-shamed and me invading your privacy, alright? Is that...is that so much to ask? That if I was going to...to let myself be with a woman, a woman like you, that that kind of thing would be a little more special?!”

“I would have agreed, if you would have just talked to me! About anything!” Olivia shifted, now head-on with her. “You said you knew what you wanted, Cassandra, but that’s just it. You knew. I may have had my hopes and...and you may have been right about me having more of a clue than I admitted, but a clue is not consent. It isn’t a consensus. When you rejected me, I felt like an ass! Like I had taken advantage of you in some way.”

“Something you would have known wasn’t the case if you would have just stayed and listened to me! I was trying to tell you!”

“Trying?!”

“Yes! Or have you forgotten how hard it was to say out loud to the first girl you ever liked that you had feelings for her, and you were terrified she’d walk out?!”

“I did--!” She begins to hiss back, but stops. Forgiveness was an easier visitor when it came to certain suffering. She couldn’t swing the gavel when it came to that: it was like breaking ten different rules of queer code. Ugh, dammit. “Intimidated or not, we’re adults. This isn’t a recess, or homeroom, it’s...it’s life. I don’t get it, you’re always so...just...mature, with everything else but this.”

Cassandra half-nodded, and folded her arms. “The heart of man is a labyrinth, whose windings are very difficult to be discovered.”

Olivia delayed her retort, a bit off-guard. “...Um...yeah, that is...one way of putting it.”

Cassandra’s sweetly sore, peering down at the ground. “It’s an excerpt, from one of Heloise’s letters to Abelard. It’s...it’s after one where he implores her to revoke their union for the sake of God, but she refuses.”

Who even is this woman? Some thesaurus of mankind’s broken desires, reincarnated into one toned, statuesque, androgynous body? Is she even real?

“Yeah, well...Abelard was an elitist asshole who wasn’t worth it. And you’re still pompous, I take it.”

She smirks again, but not as sadly, as her eyes meet hers again. “Maybe so, on both counts. However, he still encouraged her in her work, and her learning.”

“Yes, as a means to punish her for behavior he deemed carnal even though he was a complicit beneficiary of if, not to mention--”

“Behavior he was punished for as well, rather grotesquely, if I can recall.”

Olivia’s hold on the book loosens, and she looks down at it, before back at her. “He...yeah. I mean, it was just a little...castration. It be like that sometimes.” They stare once again, and she clamps down on her tongue. They’re both fighting back something, some kind of expression, though Olivia denies the hope that Cassandra wishes to smile as she does. That is, until they both cough up a chuckle. The first in a long time; she can hardly remember the last occasion. That hurts.

After a moment, she gathers her wits. She slides the book into her shoulder back, and gets back to the unsavory topic.

“We’ve made a mess, haven’t we.” She can’t help but smile. Cassandra could run her heart through the mud and gravel, and then say something clever, and that’d be all it takes. She’d smile.

“I’m afraid so. They must think we’re devising to kill each other,” Cassandra says, coming forward. There’s no need of explanation as to who she’s referring to. In a flash, images of a very worried Ellinor and slightly scared Cullen come to mind.

“You would deserve it.”

A wry smirk. “Oh, would I?”

“Yes, you were a dick.”

“And you were an insensitive snob.”

Olivia chokes back another laugh. “Compared to the company you keep, Cassandra, I’m a down-home piece of apple pie.”

Cassandra scoffs. “Leliana? Ugh, God,” she grins, “she only pulls that act when she’s trying to pull something. She was being an ass, but, she was just...trying to protect me. I’m sure she’ll appear out of nowhere and explain herself, so, be prepared.”

“Oh, wonderful, I crave her company,” she mocks, eyes rolling gently as she looks back towards the door. “Why doesn’t she just show up now? I’m eager for more mortifying company.”

“She knew I wanted to be left alone. She does listen, you know.”

“...Oh. Well, damn.” That was a nice thing. Boundaries, huh, who knew. She can sympathize -- Olivia also has a friend who left her alone after one too many acidic quips. Oh, Ellinor. Though she wants to, she can’t crucify the woman for wanting to put up a fight for her friend. “Look, I know it makes me an asshole every time, but, I really should be going this time around. I have things to do tonight, and I really just needed to get this….this book.” She says it, but she hates it.

She hates it even more when Cassandra frowns, and blinks her eyes away. “I understand, no, it’s alright. You can’t just stay in every room I find you in.”

“No, I can’t, hah.” But I wish I could.

“Hey, Olivia?” she says one last time. Her full name. It’s nice, without all the malice.

“Yeah?”

Her eyes brighten a little. Bravery. “I...I hope that you’ll be happy. Whatever that means for you. You deserve it.”

It’s a stab to the side, clean and direct through her ribs and into her gut. Her voice saying ‘I think you knew what I wanted,’ rings loud and clear in her mind again. Wanted. Not want, wanted. And now this. Oh no, Cassandra, please, please don’t tell me you’ve really let go.

“...Thank you, Cassandra. I...I wish the same for you.” I wish it, and I wish it’d happen with me. Be with me. Ask me to stay. This time I’ll stay, I promise. Just ask it.

“Thanks. Um, drive safe, okay?” More of those polite, detached manners. Again. No, no, no.

“Yeah, um,” Olivia swallows, “I will. See you around, maybe?”

“Yeah. I think so.” A smile. She’s smiling. Oh God, she really has accepted it. That they aren’t meant for each other. Like Heloise and Abelard: Olivia as Heloise, ranting and raving in her letters about having been consumed by amorous affection. And then there’s Abelard, pointing her away towards higher callings, wishing her the best. Fuck Abelard, and fuck this.

Olivia tries her hardest to hide it, and she manages a wide grin and wave before leaving. She makes it out the hallway, down the side aisle of the Church pews, out the door, and into her car.

Slamming the car door behind her, she sinks into her compact leather seat and bangs her head against the headrest. Cassandra is letting her go. She did at the gallery, technically, but now it hurts in a different way. A way she feels no enraged pride in, no vanity. No need for spiteful indifference. She wants to take it all back, this time.

The one thing she couldn’t say, and perhaps will always regret, is that Cassandra was right. She is right. And now, she’s giving Olivia what she wants, what she clamors for, all the time. She’s giving it rather than trying to change her. So this is what respect feels like from someone who wants to love you.

The book stays in her lap as she drives home. When she stops at every red light, she clutches where Cassandra held it. If it were all a movie, this would be where she’d drive off into the sunset after her coming-of-age tale, leaving the reckless love behind. But she wants to do anything but that.

How long will it be until she finally stops? The answer is now.

She brakes hard and pulls into a street parking spot -- one of the luckiest moments of her life. Digging in her bag on the passenger’s seat, she finds her phone. Thumbing and thumbing, until she finds her name and the message thread she could never make herself delete.

--You know what’d make me happy? Because I have a couple ideas on the subject. The first is Friday night, at 11. Stay awake, or miss out.

#college au update #adventures of ellinor and olivia #modern!Olivia #ellinor trevelyan #day & age #WOOO AN UPDATE

27 notes · View notes

doktoreth · 5 years ago

Text

Rebuttal against dragon-ball-meta

So my stupid ass has no idea how tumblr works, even to this day. After meta responded, I wasn’t able to reblog his stuff, message him, or even follow him. I’m quite certain he blocked me, which is . . . unexpected to say the least. And sad. A real eye-opener, that is. Here’s my rebuttal to his response. Someone let me know if he replies again or something, maybe copy+paste his shit for me, I dunno. Let’s begin:

Hey, thanks for responding, man. Appreciate it.

It’s Toriyama’s words against yours, pal. Regardless of how it was ignored or overwritten, none of this actually precludes its canonical connection with the main story. This isn’t actually an argument against filler’s canonicity, it just reaffirms the admittedly nonsensical connection Toriyama himself decided to establish. Let’s examine the entirety of the last scan(remember, fourth post):

“12: From time to time, il would happen that people whom I didn't even know were approaching me about the anime. Things were often said like: "Oh jeeze, between the manga and the anime, you must never take any time to let yourself breathe!". In reality, I had hardly worked at all on the anime, I had put confidence in my collaborators. I had enough to do just with the manga. I didn't want to work myself to death, you know...

Toriyama: I want to live until I'm 100 years old!

13: For example, drawing an image of a movement in a manga is relatively simple, but to animate this image, you had to decompose the movement and draw all the intermediary movements. That demands a colossal amount of work. (Ok, the example of Kame-sennin might not be the most appropriate...)”

Nothing much here. He’s essentially elaborating on how much his work is cut out for him. Now all that’s left is the final quotes:

“14: Of course, those who have read Dragon Ball have noticed that certain stories which are found in the anime didn't existe in the manga.

Oolong: What's this? I never saw that in the manga....”

Toriyama and Oolong mention the original stories found in the anime, the filler stories. Obviously.

“END: As one adventure in the manga corresponds to about 10 minutes of animation, and since one episode comprises on average 30 minutes, the entire series of Dragon Ball would have passed by very quickly. The team of animators therefore had to insert some original stories. I admire what they have done, that's a hell of a job!”

Toriyama’s reasoning for inserting original stories is padding, as you know. He’s not talking about how it’s fine if people like both or how the padding didn’t upset him. Anywho, we know that when he speaks of “original stories”, he’s speaking in a narrative context.

“Toriyama: Dragon Ball, it's the anime and the manga!”

Whereas the previous quote denotes his reasoning, this final quote confirms his overall treatment of the anime, being that it along with the manga comprise one wholesome narrative. Everyone knows it’s for the sake of padding. That’s been obvious from the very beginning. Still doesn’t negate Toriyama’s clear and explicit connection between the two mediums. Remember, Toriyama > You/Me.

I’m not sure what your point is in saying I think those types of alterations are “akin” to the driving episode. My view on the filler’s canonicity is akin to Toriyama’s. I also think it was a stupid decision on his part to establish such a connection for reasons I’m sure you’d agree with, such as character breaking moments and inconsistent power levels. I see filler as supplementary evidence for Plague, honestly. He doesn’t need ‘em to defend Tien.

See, the issue there is that all that fandom backlash and meme shit is frankly an insignificant indicator as to where his popularity is concerned. Weekly Jump 1993 has Krillin living the good life just behind Piccolo, Weekly Jump 1995 has Krillin taking more of a backseat and yet he’s still popular enough to remain in the top 10, and Dragon Ball Forever has Krillin just catching up back to Piccolo. He’s evidently the most popular human character, so I’m not at all out of line in connecting the dots (or votes, in this case) to his relevancy in the series. No conceit or irrational dislike here, meta, when I’ve mostly no problems with Krillin’s treatment in the series, only how others like Tien are being left in the dust.

Christ, this again? I can tell this conversation is heading to, “Oh, Krillin’s progress makes sense for his status as the strongest human” instead of addressing Plague’s overall gripe. Frankly, the exact point of plateau is too vague and arbitrary to pinpoint for any of these guys. Meta, please listen, just listen: I believe you. Krillin’s progression making him surpass Tien WITHOUT artificial power boosts is realistic. Would it have happened eventually or inevitably? Neither of us know, but that was never the point, which is that Tien’s importance as a fighter is no less than that of Krillin, and yes, even Yamcha. Plague’s premise was never reliant on Tien being the strongest, he touched on that for literally only a few seconds near the end, so let’s drop this tangent on who would’ve surpassed whom, yeah?

Well, first off, I would respectfully ask you to quell your bias for Krillin, as Plague’s video on Tien touches on him quite infrequently anyway. You spend too much time on this subject, and while I’m happy to engage you on it, it’s quite the digression. His videos being internet comedy videos (scroll down and you’ll find his comment), he makes sure to stay on point without rambling off-topic. The comedic value of his content would be severely diminished if he was all like, “Tien is fading into irrelevancy in comparison to other fan favorites”, instead of saying, “This is a Toriyama handjob.” You can call this intellectual dishonesty from a dishonest hack, I call it what it is: comedy. If you can discern no difference between the two in relation to his actual points, then I can’t help you there. I can only hope I’ve made everyone here more open-minded and vice versa.

I’m beginning to think you haven’t watched his video, meta. He doesn’t think Toriyama hates Tien. He called Tien’s stand against Cell his “greatest accomplishment” in the end of the video, albeit begrudgingly. Any examples in Z are mere digressions, anyway, as he specifically criticizes Tien’s treatment in SUPER. Anyone can look at Tien’s entry into the ToP and take that to mean he was kept important; Tien’s performance was a joke comparatively even in terms of strategy, forget power. His only notable achievements are Tri-Beaming an already incapacitated Za Priccio, courtesy of Roshi, earning Tien a knockout and his FIRST EVER ATTACK landed on an enemy that isn’t a Frieza soldier, and the most humiliating ringout ever in the form of using clones to tackle Harmira off the ring AFTER Tien’s original body was thrown off when he just as well could’ve used one measly clone as bait beforehand. Yes, power isn’t the sole indicator, but it’s the most important one in Dragon Ball. So when the ToP is played up to be needing more strategy, Tien is still treated as a joke of an afterthought.

That’s great, meta. Neither do I and neither does Plague.

I wildly disagree. His thoughts are spot on precisely because he acknowledges Tien’s motivations as a character. I don’t find them argued from emotion any more than I find yours regarding Krillin, tbh. It’s okay for you to be wrong sometimes too, meta.

P.S. You’ve said this already. I agree. I think the same can be argued for Tien given the extremely vague context as to what certain side guys have been doing off-screen. I’m literally watching the Tien video for the third time (you don’t stop talking about this, so I need to make sure), and I get the impression that Plague’s mad about Tien’s piss-poor performance comparatively rather than him being the strongest human (again, this was NOT the crux of his argument).

P.P.S You’ve . . . made this point already. Nobody said this. Plague didn’t say this. Jesus. He never even spoke of Krillin’s popularity to begin with. I know why Krillin’s popular. Hell, I loved his character from the very beginning. Krillin, Krillin, Krillin, Krillin, Krillin. We get it, meta.

6 notes · View notes

lady-divine-writes · 6 years ago

Text

Kurtbastian one-shot - “Six of One, Half Dozen of Another” (Rated PG13)

Summary: Kurt and Sebastian are back home from college in time for Valentine's Day. Neither of them are particularly fond of the holiday, but they manage to find some common ground.

... Or common ice. (1930 words)

Notes: I wrote this for Valentine's. It's a little late.

Pat 53 of Outside Edge

Read on AO3.

“Ugh … just … ugh …” Sebastian groans - the fiftieth time since he and Kurt left the Westerville rink. Kurt shakes his head but he can’t stop smiling, riding high on the euphoria of three hours spent chaperoning the rink’s annual Valentine’s Social – a 50s themed hop on ice. The rink pulls out all the stops for Valentine’s Day: renting a jukebox, putting up old time-y soda shop décor, dressing the staff in leather jackets and poodle skirts, and so on. But the highlight of the makeover (as far as Kurt’s concerned) is the gigantic red heart painted mid-ice - a place where brave souls can bring their crushes to confess their feelings.

People have even been known to propose there.

Kurt has never been a big fan of Valentine’s Day, but he is a sucker for romance.

Call him a silly romantic, but yeah.

Sebastian makes a noise that sounds like another long, sustained ‘ugggggggh’, and Kurt snickers.

“What’s going on with you? I thought you had fun tonight.”

“I did,” Sebastian says, “but only because I got to spend it with you.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“I don’t particularly like Valentine’s Day,” Sebastian grumbles, pausing at a corner, then making a right.

“I know.”

“And neither do you.”

“I know that, too.”

“So why do you get to be all high and mighty?”

“Because unlike you, I can look past the cheap chocolates and the obnoxious red hearts and appreciate the romance … the love … the drama.”

“Yeah” - Sebastian snorts - “because that’s what we need more of down at the rink. Drama.”

“When did you turn into such a big fuddy-duddy? Admit it - you love drama as much as I do.”

“True, but there’s a difference between the catty bull crap we usually fling around and purposefully setting people up to fail.”

“Ah.” Kurt nods, watching the stop light they’re approaching change colors from amber to red. “Let me guess … it was that big heart on the ice.”

“Yes, it was that big heart on the ice! First of all, I can’t imagine the amount of money the rink spends every year to paint it there, and then layer how much ice over it? It’s going to be there for months!”

“You do realize it’s tradition.” Kurt interjects. “It’s actually there for Heart Disease Awareness month. The proceeds from tonight’s ticket sales are going to the American Heart Association.”

“I guess …” Sebastian seethes, and Kurt knows he forgot. “Okay, fine. It’s for a good cause. Yippee. Still, what happens when those new relationships break up? What if those proposals don’t work out? Our regulars are going to be forced to come back to the rink and see that big red sign of failure just sitting under there! If it were me, I’d practice at my own rink to avoid it. We might have actually driven business away without even knowing it!” Sebastian glances over at Kurt pulling a face and frowns. “I take it you don’t agree.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t.”

“Don’t you think it’s kind of tacky? Making a big display like that? Getting down on your knee in front of a bunch of strangers to profess your so-called undying love?”

“I guess so. But, when you think about it, Valentine’s Day isn’t meant to be subtle. It’s supposed to be over the top.”

“It still sucks,” Sebastian mutters, thrumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he waits for the light to change.

“Oh, Sebby,” Kurt coos, placing a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder and kneading. “I didn’t know how deeply you cared about the love lives of strangers.”

“I don’t.” Sebastian’s signature sarcastic smile makes a brief, fleeting appearance before he stares off into the distance, purposefully avoiding Kurt’s playful gaze. “But I know what it’s like to make a grand gesture … and have it rejected.”

“Oh. Oh. Oh, Sebastian …” Kurt falls quiet, the atmosphere in the car going from one of lighthearted teasing to guilt with the changing of the street lights. Sebastian isn’t talking about Kurt. They had their fights in the beginning, but once Kurt knew he mattered to Sebastian, he stopped fighting and opened his heart to him. It’s his parents Sebastian is referring to. He worked hard over the years to make them proud, and when gold medals and first place podiums started becoming the status quo, he worked even harder to get their attention. So many routines he’d choreographed in dedication to his parents just for the meaning to go over their heads.

Or for them not to show up at all.

Kurt hears Sebastian sniff but that could be from the cold. If he doesn’t bring it up, Kurt will leave it there. Sebastian glances over his shoulder to check for clearance before changing lanes, and when he turns back, he has his smirk fixed in place as if it had never left.

“Meh. You live, you learn. Ancient history.”

“I guess so.” Kurt watches Sebastian and not the road as silence brings him back to the handful of times he’s gotten to meet Sebastian’s parents. It’s strange, and difficult, being around the three of them together. In front of Kurt (and Kurt imagines, in front of other people in general) they act like regular, doting parents, joking with their son about him having a boyfriend and asking them both questions about their plans for the future. But there’s something else about them, something underneath the good-natured teasing and pleasant conversation.

Like they’re playing a part, reciting the lines required before they get to pack up their things and fly away again.

Which makes the thought of them going back to Sebastian’s house tonight an unpalatable one. His folks are there, on layover before they return to a gala in Italy they swore up and down is for work. And Kurt has no doubt it is.

That doesn’t mean it’s necessarily the right thing for them to do.

Kurt foresees a mildly uncomfortable dinner in their future, and that dampens his romance-fueled buzz. But at least this time, Kurt and Sebastian are only visiting, too – on break from college for a week, mostly to celebrate the anniversary of Kurt’s mom’s remission.

Kurt turns his attention back to the windshield when the road they’re driving winds. The dark outside gets darker, and Kurt realizes Sebastian isn’t taking him to the main house on his parents’ property, but to his rink instead. “Uh, Seb?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Why are we here? We just skated for three hours. I don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to getting out of these pants. They’re a wee bit snug.”

“That’s a phrase I never thought I’d hear you say.”

“And I hadn’t planned on eating two dozen baby cupcakes, but nonetheless, here we are.”

Sebastian pulls up alongside the outer wall and turns off the engine. “As much as I want to see you out of those tight jeans, I actually planned something for tonight. Something kind of special.”

“You did?”

Sebastian side-eyes his skeptical boyfriend. “Are you surprised?”

“May-be. You’ve spent so much time griping, I thought you might just want to forget doing something as a couple on Valentine’s Day.”

“Are you kidding? Any excuse to get you dressed up and alone …”

“You know, coming from anyone else that would sound creepy.”

“Well, thank goodness I’m not anyone else.” Sebastian opens his door and gets out, closing it quickly behind him when a cold wind blows through. He tromps through the snow, rounding the rear of the vehicle to get to Kurt’s door. “Come on,” he says, opening the door and offering Kurt his arm, “let’s get inside and out of this cold.”

“It’s kind of ironic that it’s warmer inside an ice rink than out here.”

“Yeah. Too bad climate change doesn’t exist.”

“We live on the ice. We’ll be alright.”

Sebastian ushers Kurt to the door, playfully putting a hand over his eyes when he leads his boyfriend inside. Kurt hears Sebastian switch on the lights … or maybe switch them off. From what he can see past what Sebastian’s hand doesn’t cover, the switch he threw has done little to change the illumination of the room. He can’t see much else past that, but closes his eyes regardless so as not to ruin Sebastian’s surprise.

Sebastian barely has to help Kurt. He knows his way around Sebastian’s rink by heart. He knows from the start that they’re heading for the ice. But if they’re not skating, why in the world would they be there?

“Okay.” Sebastian adjusts his boyfriend’s stance, then readjusts him several times to get him in the right position. Or to mess with him. That’s a possibility, too. “Now … look.”

Sebastian removes his hand from Kurt’s eyes. Kurt blinks them once. It doesn’t take much to adjust to the light in here. He thought he knew what he would see when Sebastian took his hand away but he was wrong. Sebastian’s rink is impressive all on its own, but what he has created takes Kurt’s breath away.

Sebastian kept the twinkle lights up from Christmas. When Kurt had asked Sebastian why he hadn’t taken them down when he took down the tree, he said he liked the ambiance. Kurt should have known something was up then.

Sebastian and ambiance aren’t two words oft heard in the same sentence.

But sometime between the last time Kurt was there (which was that afternoon) and tonight, he’s hung red, pink, and gold foil hearts all around – on the walls and dangling from the ceiling. But when did he get the time? Kurt was seriously with him every minute of that day. Is it possible he actually got Blaine, who’d taken off from school to join them, to help him? Otherwise Kurt has no idea how he could have pulled it off! And if he did humble himself to asking Kurt’s best friend, who Sebastian still jokes that he doesn’t particularly like, to help him decorate for Kurt, that makes Kurt love Sebastian all the more.

Electric candles line the rails of the rink; red and pink rose petals scattered around; and soft, romantic music piped through the overhead speakers; while lazy golden lights drift across the ice, courtesy of an upgrade to the overhead spotlight system. Those lights dance over the piece de resistance - a king-sized bed sitting center ice in the middle of a large, red mat, with a red carpet walkway leading straight to Kurt’s feet.

It looks like the cover of a Harlequin Romance novel. And as cheesy as that is, Kurt can’t help but swoon just a little.

Again – silly romantic.

“So … this doesn’t count as over-the-top?” Kurt laughs as Sebastian takes his hands and leads him down the red carpet towards the bed. It’s then that Kurt spots their Zuca bags, standing side by side at the head, just in case they want to get some after nookie skating in, Kurt guesses.

An image of them post-coitus, trying to land jumps and perform scratch spins on shaky legs, makes him laugh harder.

“Nope. Because you and I are certifiably in love. And this …” Sebastian glances over at the bed behind them, covered in satin blankets, a mound of pillows, a bouquet of long stemmed roses, plus a silver tray crowded with strawberries, a dish of cream, and a bottle of sparkling cider, kept chill by the icy air of Sebastian’s rink “… this counts as the bare minimum.”

#kurtbastian #sebkurt #sekurt #frankie writes

16 notes · View notes

fallen029 · 6 years ago

Note

I say chapter 2 for the Miraxus Vampire AU!! Your imaginations are just the best ^^

Part I

It was a rough adjustment to say the least, going from the freedom of a young man in his twenties with no attachment other than his homegrown business, to the chains of being the only normal person in a household full of abnormality.

Which was putting it lightly.

He was the only one who wasn’t a vampire, like the Strauss siblings, a slave to said vampires, like poor Evergreen and Freed, or a complete and utter moron who Laxus was pretty sure had no hangups over all had gone on, like stupid Bickslow. No, Bickslow was riding high as the house ‘jester’ and kitten father and it was all just so aggravating that sometimes Laxus thought about it.

He could do it.

Kill them.

Really, the only one he wanted to take out with the main one. Mirajane. The Mistress. She was the one that caused all of this. He wondered too if maybe vampires were, like, ants or bees. If he killed their queen, would all the others die? Is that how it worked? Sure, it would be horrible to recognize his own dealings in the death of his two friends, Freed and Ever, but at the same time…

Those…things weren’t Evergreen and Freed any longer. He had to keep reminding himself of this fact. It was the truth. Their bodies were just vessels and what happened to them from this point out had no bearing on the souls that had long since departed.

It would be retribution, if anything. Justice. An end to any suffering they might still be facing, trapped within themselves. How could he just sit there and do nothing? Huh? When he was the only one with the opportunity to bring it all to an end?

And yet, as dawn rose each morning, dragging the sun willingly along the sky, he found himself not focusing on how to distract Freed long enough to sneak down into the cellar, where he’d find them all, slumbering the day away, where he could easily drive stakes through each of their hearts.

It would be a blessing, even, he was pretty sure, to the three of them. Was it not a curse? Their immortality? That’s what she told him, once, when this all first began. That he was lucky to bear the brunt of mortality.

Then why not just end things?

He figured this had to do with the whole damnation aspect. If that was an aspect. Bickslow insisted it was. But even still, Laxus would find hellfire far more preferable to feasting on the blood of the innocent. Still, he couldn’t imagine that Bickslow was enjoying himself as much as he let on either. They were all just surviving with what they’d been giving. Selfishly, sure, fine, but each day (or night) that they continued to draw breath was a win, no matter how dirty the tactics.

Where did that leave him, anyways? Laxus saw himself as an unwilling participant in all of this, but he never left. Or when he did, it was merely to do what had to be done. Gather supplies, assure the locals. That sort of things. He always came back. He wasn’t charmed or imprinted on or any of that weird stuff a vampire might do to have a hold over someone. No. He was just…

Going along with all of it.

Fear at first, maybe, had a play in everything, but now he felt little of it. Or at least it wasn’t overpowering his senses. Mirajane had been right. Repulsion fled with repetition and he found himself falling into the daily schedule of the Strauss mansion with little hesitance. In a certain kind of way, it wasn’t so different from his daily life before that. Manual labor, renovating a decaying mansion in the hot summer.

What a long one of those it would be.

“Oi, boss, I think one of my little kittens here is sick. Peppe. Look at ‘im. Does this look like a normal kitten to you?”

“Bickslow,” the man growled as he stood out in the yard, cutting at the shrubbery, “I’m busy.”

“Just look at ‘im, boss. He looks pale.”

“It’s a white fucking cat, Bickslow.”

“Kitten.”

“Bick-”

“Go on then, you bastard,” the acrobat was growling suddenly and when Laxus glanced over his shoulder, he saw the man nursing a bleeding thumb. The kitten apparently didn’t like being swung around for the blond to see and had either bit or scratched the other man. Tossing him to the ground, Bickslow glared after the feline before looking to Laxus once more. “Kids are so ungrateful. Say, that’s actually what I was wondering about.”

“I don’t give a shit about your cats, man.”

“Kittens.” Still, Bickslow was quick to follow as Laxus, finished with the bush before him, was stalking off across the yard to the other. “To bad for your woman, you know. Is she still a woman? Your vampire then, eh? Can’t see ya all hot and bothered like this. Shirtless. Working hard under the sweltering sun.”

“If you’re coming on to me, I’m not interested.”

“Nah, not me. No way. I’m a single father now, man. That’s a lot of work.”

“I thought you and Lisanna were taking care of the kittens together?”

“The woman only comes around at night! All day, I toil over my precious babies and she just-”

“You know, man, I’m really fucking busy right now, so-”

“I have a question,” Bickslow insisted as they came to a stop before another overgrown shrub. “Okay, look, listen to this. I’ve been wondering ‘cause it keeps me up at night, yeah? Well, among other things-”

“Bickslow-”

“Can vampires reproduce?”

“What? Why are you ask-”

“And if they can, does it gotta be with something else undead? Or can you and the, uh, Mrs. Boss, uh… I’s talkin’ to Freed about it and we were very concerned. Well, I was concerned. He just sorta sat there and went on and on about all his chores he had to do, but… How can something undead give life to something not? And man, it would suck for you, ya know? Is it your kid or one of the thousand of other guys, she, uh, gets favors from, right? I mean-”

“Would you shut up?” And he dropped the clippers then, Laxus did, as he turned on the man with blazing eyes and Bickslow threw up his hands in defense, nearly falling back over his own feet as he tried to scramble away. “I’m fucking working you absolute-”

“So I’m a prisoner here and I ain’t even got free speech?” Bickslow was running across the yard then, away from him. “Well, prisoner in name only. But I got rights, boss! You’ll see! I’ll bring this up to the kid tonight. You just wait!”

But Laxus didn’t think of the man again that night. Or anything, really, as he found yard work to not even be a good distraction from his roaring thoughts.

They seemed to have some sort of internal clocks that told them when to rise from their shadowy depths, the Strauss siblings did. As sundown changed just slightly with each passing day, he wondered how exactly their bodies knew so well. Perhaps they were just that in tune with the earth?

Regardless, he typically found himself waiting for the Mistress on the couch in her bedroom, where Freed would follow her after the pair made sure her brother was alright and her sister was content, to pour her wine and listen to any daily chores she had until the next sundown.

Laxus would only sit there patiently, usually, for this to occur as he looked everywhere other than his former friend. To see the man now, mindless and void, really gave the blond an ache deep in his heart.

One night after Freed had pour her a glass of wine and bowed his way out of the room, Mirajane only went to look longingly out the window as Laxus couldn’t do anything other than stare at her deeply.

“I’m not in the mood tonight, my love,” she offered simply, mistaking the gaze for hunger. “For anything.”

“I just have a, uh, question.” Laxus had never stuttered, really, before he came to the mansion, but he found his words falling over themselves frequently around the woman. Coughing slightly into his hand, he added, “That’s all.”

“Ask until you are content.” She didn’t even glance over at him as he rose to his feet. Instead, eyes falling down into her glass, she whispered, “I will answer to the best of my ability.”

Nodding, he took a step closer before, with hesitation, finding his feet firmly planted where they were currently. “I was just curious… How is it that…”

“I said you can ask, Laxus.” She still wouldn’t look at him. She seemed distracted, honestly. Worried. “Not stammer at me.”

“Right. I just… You can’t get, like, pregnant or some shit like that, can you?”

“What?” That did get her gaze, but the look was one of displeasure. Rolling her eyes so deeply he thought perhaps she’d gone into a trance, the woman finally retorted, “What an idiotic question. Of course not. Who would think such a thing?”

Bickslow.

Still, the man merely said, “I was just making sure, is all. Contraception is kind of a normal thing now. I figure it wasn’t back when you were…when…well-”

“You are beginning to bore me, Laxus.” Her gaze was out the window again. “Please try and avoid such an occurrence.”

Frozen for a moment, he shook his head some as he felt his feet get life again. Advancing on the woman, he stared out the window as well. In the pale moonlight, he saw just as she did, Bickslow doing twirls and jumps for a not visible Lisanna.

“They both enjoy one another,” she offered softly, “at least. It’s been a long time since Lisanna has had someone to play with. He’s a bit…off, but I am pleased with the jester’s dedication.”

“Yeah,” Laxus whispered as she turned then, from the window and him, walking across the room to refill her glass, “dedication.”

“You’re always the one that gets to go away somewhere fun,” Lisanna griped to her sister early one evening as the Mistress had them all gather in the living area. Even Evergreen and the brother, Elfman, were there. One a brute of a man, the still quite muscular man merely sat where he’d been helped, on the couch, not able to raise his eyes as his sister’s bickered. “You don’t trust us to do anything anymore. I wasn’t the one that got hurt. Elf was-”

“Silence.” She never raised her voice, Mirajane did, but she had a way of getting the attention of others regardless. As Freed stood at her side and the others sat around on the furniture, Mirajane only addressed them all with a dark gaze. “I have important business to attend to. I except there to be no problems, here at home, while I am gone. You stay out of the sight of the villagers, Lisanna, Elfman, and you both keep up appearances, Freed, Laxus. When I return-”

“Laxus?” Lisanna frowned over at him and even stuck her tongue out. “How come he’s staying? Take him with you. I hate when he just looms around the house all day.”

“You,” the man complained with a glare right back (though he was apprehensive over the brother and downright terrified of Mirajane, Lisanna felt more like the petulant children he dealt with down at the group home), “sleep all day. I sleep at night. Why is that a problem?’

“It’s annoying.” She could only shrug. “Doesn’t feel natural.”

“You know-”

“You all behave like children.” With a roll of her eyes, Mirajane looked to Freed. “I expect you to keep things in order while I am away. I will return before the end of the week. Should anything occur, you know how to get in contact with me, yes?”

“I,” Lisanna complained again, “know what to do if anything goes wrong, Mira. Me. Not them. I’m the whole reason any of them are here!”

“Will you be gone that long?” Elfman finally spoke, voice soft as he raised his eyes some. “Big sis?”

It was with a soft sigh that she went to push her brother’s white locks away from his eyes, staring down at him as Evergreen sat beside, looking void and disinterested.

“Never,” Mirajane assured her younger brother.

Laxus didn’t understand why he got left behind, but decided to make the most of it. Working all day, sleeping all night. Like he used to. Rather than sleeping in shifts between doing the housework, going to town, and dealing with the Strauss siblings in the evening.

He had his own room, separate from Mirajane’s, which he was free to use when she wasn’t up to bother with him. Or when she wished to be alone, as she did, some nights. The bed wasn’t as comfortable and the room was much smaller, barren, but it suited him and his attitude towards his situation.

One night, sleep was a bit difficult because he could hear Elfman wailing, loudly, in his downstairs quarters, over something or other, and Bickslow was jumping all about the house with his cats. And Freed seemed to have been instructed to wander about, between Mira’s siblings, checking up on them. Laxus could hear his slow, methodical steps as he went up and down the stairs periodically, doing as he’d been told.

Sleep was just hard to come by.

Laxus laid with his headphones in, listening to music, and kind of just wished Mirajane would return soon. She seemed to bring balance to the house. Without the Mistress around, everything felt disconnected. No one was really the head of the house and they were all just miserable people, trapped in a mansion together, bringing the misery onto one another.

Just what, the golden haired man found himself fearing frequently, could Mirajane be dealing with anyways? She seemed rather worried over something. Did it have to do with him? And Bickslow? Or maybe Elfman’s…accident? Something like that?

Who was she even going to speak with?

And how many others were there? Like them? Int he world? Were the Strauss siblings oddities or a shadowy norm?

Maybe there was a council, he worried then, of vampires. A hierarchy? Just where did the woman fall on that? She seemed rather high and mighty, towards her siblings, who fell in line under her, but did that have to do with birth order? Or some sort of chain of command?

Why did it bother him so much? The idea that the woman, Mirajane, his…Mistress wasn’t at the top? Because it did. The idea that there were more powerful, more commanding vampires out there than her really bothered him. And not just because the implication of darkness and evil that had towards the world at large.

It didn’t make much sense to the man at first. What was happening. He’d drifted off some uncomfortably and was a bit dazed as he heard the soft footsteps that certainly weren’t the pensive, watchful Freed or the excitable Bickslow. No. They were different.

“Lisanna?” he whispered softly as she slipped into his room. Frowning as he rubbed at his eyes, he asked, “Is everything alright? Is someone here? I’ll go take care of-”

“No one’s here.” She shut the door softly behind her, coming forwards. “It’s my home, is it not? Can I not choose where to be inside of it?”

“What?” She was being too confusing for him to be so groggy. “Did you need something or not?”

Btu she was staring at him as the moonlight wafted through his room and it was so bizarre because part of him knew exactly why she’d come, but another part of him refused to acknowledge it.

“Lisanna? Hey, kid, I think I lost one of the kittens again and I’m really worried about him. Have I mentioned to you that he don’t look too good? Lisanna?”

She made a face, over her shoulder, before looking at Laxus again and oh shit, he was so fucked.

But not that night, as she slipped back out of the room to go deal with her personal jester. Laxus just sat up in bed for a full minute, shocked, dazed, and filled with dread.

What was he supposed to do now?

The height of summer was upon them and it was a scorcher out. Laxus decided, without Mirajane there to dictate just what he did with his days, that he would go into town. Not the dumb village though. A real town. To get away from the mansion for a bit.

Maybe…maybe even write his grandfather?

But he couldn’t. He thought about it, honest, he did, and even located the location to do so, but he just…

What could he say? After so long? The last his grandfather had heard from him was when he first started renting out that little shopfront, hopeful for the future. He’d always meant to write the man again. To go back again, honestly. With extra cash. To see who was still around and who’d gotten homes. Maybe even offer a job to some of them. Maybe. The kids. The ones that were grown by that point.

It just never came together.

Laxus had found a new family there, for a bit, in his little team. Evergreen and Bickslow could get on his nerves like no other, but they reminded him a lot of the kids in that way. And Freed, well, he could be a bit of a hassle as well, what with his near constant insistence of doing the right thing and being an upstanding citizen and all that. He was a lot like his grandfather.

But now that family was shattered and factored and it would never come all together again. It couldn’t. The Strauss siblings made certain of that.

There was a slight fear, as well, or at least a consideration he’d kind of pushed away before, but…

The Mistress had made it quite common knowledge between the two of them that all things come to an end. Though she implied he would age, she didn’t necessarily indicate that this would lead to a natural end in their relationship. The opposite, even. She told him that she would be the one to end him.

When the time came.

Now with Lisanna clearly wanting…from him, well, he had a bad feeling that things were going to go south much faster than Mirajane had anticipated.

Laxus caught a drink alone at a bar and plotted this all out in his head.

Lisanna hadn’t been too coy, sneaking into his room so late at night, and that meant that she wanted… But Laxus didn’t want…well… It was weird. Wtiht he Mistress. He felt such a strong, undeniable attraction for her. Was it the power? The fact that she could completely fuck his entire shit up with a snap of his fingers?

Or just her in general?

Then there was her younger sister. Lisanna. There was nothing wrong with her. At all. She was just…not Mirajane. Yes. And Mira had told him, even, that she had no interest in men. That she was keeping Bickslow more as a pet than anything else. And that seemed to hold up as true, over a month out. Bickslow was entertaining to her and nothing more.

He’d thought this meant that Mira was right. That Lisanna just wasn’t looking for the same thing that she was. But apparently not.

It didn’t matter how many beers Laxus downed. He couldn’t wash away the feeling that this was going to end poorly for him. Imagine it. Having a super hot girlfriend who goes away for the week and then bam! Her sister is throwing herself at you. You know if you go for it, your girlfriend will eventually find out about it, and ‘end’ you, like she threatened, but if you don’t…

Well…

Then you’ll get your blood sucked out in a violent manner by her equally as scary and powerful little sister.

Imagine it.

Laxus could.

It’s why he decided not to go home that night.

“Where were ya last night, boss?” Bickslow yawned to the man in the middle of the afternoon when Laxus arrived back at the place. He hesitated some, when he found the guy waiting for him on the front porch, but Bickslow had something else on his mind than true worry over his friend. “My kitty ain’t well! It’s-”

“Shut the fuck up, Bickslow. Moron.”

Freed seemed interested in Laxus absence, but made little mention in it other than informing him he should not be gone, at night, when the Mistress is about.

“Well, she ain’t, is she, Freed?” he grumbled some to the mostly vacant stare of the man he once considered his best friend.

Still, he took heed of this and decided to be around that night, just in case the woman showed back up.

He didn’t sleep in his room though. No. He slept in Mirajane’s, with the door locked, completely sealed off from the others. He was answering no knocks or inquiries. Just going to put his headphones in and zone out from the entire world. If this bothered Mira, should she arrive home that night, so be it.

It wasn’t like she’d kill him over it.

But she might if she found him in bed with her sister.

No. Things were just best if Laxus kept to himself and avoided Lisanna all together until Mira got back and then…then…

Well, he wasn’t sure then what. A few days removed, he wasn’t even certain he’d read Lisanna’s intentions correctly. It was late and he was tired and maybe…maybe his ego was just getting in the way of logical thought. Yes. Maybe. Possibly.

Lisanna was just messing around. Or did want something. Probably to find Bickslow. Yeah. She was looking for him and then there he was and that was that.

Right?

Right.

Obviously.

The sleep was still uncomfortable, but he found it much preferable to the worried one he’d had the previous two nights.

There was a certain sense you got, unilaterally, when you felt someone’s eyes upon you. It wasn’t even supernatural. Just a sense people got, a feeling. It had nothing to do with the powers that the Strauss siblings possessed.

And yet, it felt enhanced, somehow, when it came to them. His blood would run cold, if he was walking around the property at the exact post-dusk moment they came out of their cellar. Could literally feel the Mistress’ eyes across the sprawling property. Knew when they were on him. When they spied him, out late at night, in a storm, trying to track down damn kittens as she watched from her window.

He found Lisanna had the same power.

His snores turned to slight, chilly shakes as he peeked his eyes open and found her there, in the bedroom with him. He was confused for a moment and then only glared.

“How did you get in?” he griped, softly, whispered, really. He didn’t want Freed or Bickslow poking around. None of this could get back to Mirajane. Not an ounce of it.

Lisanna was standing there, at the foot of the bed, just staring. She didn’t do pensive or alluring as well as her sister, but still, as she nodded over to the forever open window, Laxus wanted to ram a palm into his face.

Of course.

Fucking vampires.

That explained his cold, anyways, as he shivered some in the night air that was being let in.

“You should never lock her door, anyways,” Lisanna told him before her eyes and gaze turned to something more…devious. “Unless, of course, you plan to put it to good use.”

She literally jumped into bed with him and Laxus didn’t know what to do. At all. He’d never had a problem such as this (as he fell more into the Strauss web, he found that was true of most things) and wasn’t sure what to do as the woman literally moved to grab his face and fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Lisanna.” He turned his head when she tried to kiss him. “Kid. What are you doing? Me and your sister-”

“Mira can’t have everything. And I’m not a kid.”

“Okay, okay, you’re not a kid, but fuck, we can’t-”

“Why not? Huh?” She was still holding onto his face and Laxus didn’t know how petrified his face looked in that moment, but all of him was feeling it. Lisanna had clearly lost it and either she was going to fucking have her way with him (super nope) or she was going to fucking kill him, he just knew it. All that month of figuring things out with Mirajane had just be some sort of cosmic gift. Here, you can dabble in your darkest of fantasies before they’re ripped from you. Just like your jugular will be, in your bitter final moments.

It felt fitting, to have that happen. You fuck a vampire, you get fucked up by a vampire.

Yeah, it was hard not to find justice in this outcome.

“It’s because of her isn’t it. My sister. You’re in love with my sister, aren’t you?”

“W-Well, I don’t use labels and-”

She growled some, Lisanna did, and her nails felt like claws as, in the moonlight, he was forced to stare into her eyes.

“Mirajane treats me like a fucking child and I’m not. I can do whatever I want.”

“Look, I fullheartedly support you in this endeavor and all, but I’m not just whatever, okay? Now would you please-”

“You’re going to do as I want, Laxus. I’m just as strong as her. What? You think just because I didn’t turn Bickslow, I can’t turn anyone? I can. I will. If I want you, I’ll have you.”

“Your sister-”

“Isn’t here.”

“Yeah, but… You’re not a kid, Lisanna, fine, yeah, you’re what? A billion years old?” He felt more panic for some reason, in this moment, than he had when he was chained to the chair, all those weeks back. “But to someone like me, you’re still-”

“I was twenty-two when I died. That is not a kid.”

“Yeah, but still. I’m, uh, into, you know, a different kind of-”

“I don’t care what you’re into.” And besides, she seemed to already be over the whole sleeping together thing. No. Now her eyes fell only to his neck. “I’m going to turn you into my slave. My servant. That’ll teach her. I’ll make her favorite little plaything mine and then she’ll know. She’ll- Ow!”

She nails left long, bleeding scratches on his face when Laxus finally found it within himself to shove her away. He could somehow reconcile all the other stuff, but turning him would mean effectively ending his life. Remove any chance at battling back. No.

He would never allow that to happen. Not even through the Mistress.

“Lisanna?” Someone was trying the door then. Freed. “I must gain entry to assure you safety. Please, if you can-”

“Fuck off, Freed,” Laxus growled as he’d merely tossed Lisanna to the side, on the bed. She was hardly hurt, honestly, more surprised, and as that faded from her gaze, he knew he was about to be in for a battle. “Don’t ya gotta follow my command too?”

Nope.

“I will locate a key.”

Shit.

Jumping out of bed as Lisanna tried to pounce on him again, Laxus bashful, at first, to be in only his boxers around what was kind of, fine, okay, his girlfriend’s little sister, but then he remembered why this was the case and, well, embarrassment went out that perpetually open window a long time ago.

“You’ll pay for that.” Lisanna’s voice was low and Laxus considered then that this could have been all over a long time ago if Lisanna would just charm him. She clearly had no interest in the will of him, the flesh, like Mira had proclaimed to, so it made little sense for her not to just go that route.

Unless…

“You’re not as strong as your sister.”

“What are you talking about? Of course I am. I-”

“You don’t possess the same powers as her, do you?” He was standing there, defensively, one hand held out in front of him, as if to stop her should she advance further. He wasn’t so certain she couldn’t immediately overpower him though (Bickslow insisted vampires had immense strength) and did this more out of a reflex. A false sense of control. As Lisanna glared from the bed, he almost felt like he had the upper hand. “Mira’s, like, what? You and your brother’s commander? Or something? Is that it? I’ve never even seen the two of you hunt on your own. Mira goes out and hunts for herself and then brings the two of you back small animals to feast on. I’ve seen it. I’ve helped Freed clear the animal traps. You and your brother aren’t powerful and don’t need real, human, blood. Or at least as much blood as she does. Is that it? Or does she keep you powerless that way?”

“You have no idea,” Lisanna told him darkly, “what you’re talking about.”

Well, honestly, she was right. But still, he held fast.

“You can’t do all she can and make you so jealous, doesn’t it?” He felt embolden by distance. “I get it, okay? But fucking me…or eating me…or anything dealing with me, won’t make her take you seriously. It’ll just get me kicked out of her. Or worse. So rebel some other way, alright? That doesn’t involve-”

The sound of a key in the ancient lock stopped them and Laxus glared over at it. Freed though, who merely blinked at them, was not even close to the worst thing behind it though.

“Boss, you fucking snake!”

Bickslow tackled him, full on, to the ground and you know what? Laxus had had a lot of rage recently, since the whole thing began, and yeah, as they began to fight, he let some of it go. He was more powerful than the other man and was beating him handily as Lisanna only sat by yelling at them and Freed seemed uncertain of what directive he should take next.

There was no end in sight, honestly, and Laxus might have killed Bickslow that night, he was so charged up from his nearly two month long ordeal at that part, and you know what? Yeah, Bickslow did share some blame in the whole thing. Yes, he was essentially doing as Laxus, just going along to get along, but fuck if it didn’t feel much more like the other guy was betraying him. Them. The whole human race, honestly.

Being around the darkness for so long had muddled Laxus’ sense of right from wrong and whatever happened that night, he;d more than convinced himself wasn’t his fault. Anything that happened from that point forth wasn’t his fault. He was a pawn filled with freewill, but uncertain how to wield it any longer, and this was just the inevitable outcome.

She entered through her window, transforming ins uch a blink of an eye that it would have appeared, were anyone watching something other than Laxus’ pounding his close friend into the ground, as if she came from thin air.

“What,” stopped all motion in the room as she merely stood there, blue eyes not so bright in that moment, “is going on?”

Bickslow was bruised and bloodied, but as Laxus found no words before the woman, the jester did.

“Laxus tried to sleep with Lisanna!”

“The fuck I did.” He got off Bickslow then, eyes dark as he glared over at the youngest Strauss. “She tried to…have her way with me! And then these two burst in-”

“They’re mortals!” Lisanna fell onto the defensive easily. “I can do whatever I wish with them. You don’t get dibs, Mira, on someone you won’t even turn. You-”

“Out.” She really just hit an ungodly octave, the woman did. Breathing harshly through her nose, her eyes fell to Laxus. “Except you.”

Freed had to assist Bickslow in even getting up and he was upset, the other man was, about…about…fuck if Laxus knew, but as Lisanna only sent him a dirty look for some reason, he decided he didn’t care. About any of them.

“Mira,” he tried, but she huffed as the others left, moving passed him and over to her dresser instead. Waiting there was a bottle of her specified brand and, as always, a clean wineglass.

“The only good thing out of the lot of you,” she complained as she poured it for herself, “is Freed.”

“She came onto me. I-”

“If you cannot control them, Laxus, then why should I leave you in charge?”

“Control- She’s a fucking vampire! You’re all fucking vampires! God, why are you all just acting like this is normal shenanigans? It ain’t! Your fucking sister just tried to…to…rape me, fuck, I guess, and then kill me when I didn’t comply. But you’re mad at me?”

She had her back to him and merely took a long sip from her glass before replying, “I’m not mad at anyone. I’m annoyed.”

“I’d really appreciate it, Mira, if you were at least a bit mad at your sister over all this.”

“Lisanna is acting out. Lashing out. It’s normal.”

“Stop calling all of this normal. That’s literally what I just said. Are you not listening to me?”

“I expect,” was all he got back in response, “you to handle yourself while I am gone. I do not want to arrive home to messes.”

“I didn’t try and fuck your sister, Mira. She wanted to fuck me. Are you not the least bit concerned about that? You know, I’ve had to adjust a lot, a whole fucking lot, for your family, and you’re yelling at me because no one said that I would have to be fucking both of you. Is that the game now? I have to fuck your sister too? If that’s what you want, Mira, then-”

“Stop yelling.”

“Is no one going to fucking acknowledge how hard I’m working? Constantly? To figure this shit out? Then your sister just throws herself at me, your brother has been sobbing for days, you’ve been gone, Freed is fucking weird, I don’t even get to see Ever, and Bickslow, fucking Bickslow, won’t shut up about his cats and then comes in here and attacks me for what? Huh? For possibly sleeping with someone who he’s not? What kind of sense does that make? And, by the way, your sister clawed the fuck out of my face. Thanks for asking.”

Mira turned to face him then, fully, lowering her drink down to her side. “My sister doesn’t…want you, Laxus. This will pass. She’s just jealous and threatened. She’s putting you in your place. You denied her. It’s done.”

“I don’t feel like it-”

“Hush.”

“She’s fucking-”

“Hush.”

His lips shut and his jaw felt locked as the woman only went to the bedroom door. Calling for Freed once it was opened, she requested a wet rag and stood there until it was presented to her. Laxus was confused, but she merely locked the door once more before coming over to him.

“Wash yourself. You are covered in both your and his blood,” she said, handing it off to the man who accepted it numbly. “And do not come into my chambers again, if I am not present. And do not look so betrayed. I will speak with Lisanna as well.”

The house met with an uneasy silence then and, as he ran the rag over himself, Laxus was aware of the distraction in the woman. It was written all over her face.

“Why did you go away?”

“A meeting.”

“With…what? Like a meeting between…vampires?” His fears (or was it more of a desire) were coming true. “You all get together and what? Discuss your favorite blood type?”

“I see you’re coming off your anger well.”

“Your sister tried to-”

“But she did not.” She brought the cup to her lips once more after adding, “Get in bed, my love.”

He didn’t want to, not really, but had already pressed his luck with one of the siblings that day. There was a serious doubt it would hold true twice.

When he wasn’t joined, Laxus only snorted, staring over at her. “You must have something major going on, in your little abomination world, huh?”

That did it.

Softly, into her cup, the woman giggled, airy and light.

“You,” she informed him simply, “have no idea.”

Needless to say, the next morning was awkward for Laxus and Bickslow. The acrobats face was all black and blue and his lip was split and oh, wow, there was something a lot more pressing going on.

After avoiding one another for most of the day (if they were honest with themselves, they both mostly slept til noon anyways), it was nearing the time for the siblings to come out of their cellar when it happened. Bickslow found Laxus sitting under a tree outside, listening to his music. In his arms, once more, he clutched one of his little kittens.

“He’s,” the seith told him and he looked more distraught then he did when he thought the boss was bonin’ Lisanna, “sick.”

Laxus could tell. Part of him felt bad for the little guy, who was breathing shallowly and was probably infected with who knew what, considering the conditions under which he was living. This presented another huge problem, of course, that wouldn’t be addressed in that very moment, but as Laxus tried to figure out how he’d delicately break it to Bickslow that, considering the rinky dink village had no vet, they’d probably have to break the kitten’s neck out of pity, he also realized the other kittens were no doubt infected with the illness as well.

“What’s wrong?”

Lisanna was the first into the house, finding the two men sitting down on the entryway floor, the little kitten laid on a towel there as Bickslow gently stroked at his tummy, hoping to soothe any of his pains.

“We’re, uh, wain’ for ya, is all, I guess,” he whispered softly. “Boss is gonna have to…well… You gotta say goodbye to ‘im, kid.”

Her eyes widened, Lisanna did, and she looked tearful as her brother only came to stare down as well. Laxus didn’t feel too comfortable around the other guy yet and thought about ditching out then, giving Lisanna and Bickslow a moment alone with their kitten (and psyching himself up to, you know, kill a defenseless creature; tall talk from a vampire fucker, but that was different), but just as he was rising to his feet, the muscular man was bending down.

“What- Elfman!” Lisanna hit him as he moved to grab the tiny cat in his massive hands. “What are you- No! Mira! Stop him!”

She was the last in the house, Freed faithfully by her side, and frowned at the scene before her. But it was too late for the cat as her brother was already bringing his fangs down into the beast. Bickslow couldn’t help it. He’d been the best sorta prisioner, sort of hire entertainment possible, but this was just too dark for him.

“What the fuck, bro?” he yelled, but Elfman only stood to his feet after retracting his fangs from the neck of the feline.

In all the commotion of the room, they heard a faint, “Meow.”

“I turned him.” Elfman sniffled some as he moved to set the kitten down. “He’ll, uh, never grow up. He’ll be a baby forever. But he won’t die now, Lisanna.”

She was sill down on her knees, wiping at her eyes, but did blink some.

“Why didn’t I think of that?” she whispered softly to herself as the kitten ran off, no doubt to find it’s siblings. “I’m so stupid.”

“You are not.” Mira was walking on then, Freed following. ‘But we are going to have a conversation. Now.”

“Hey, man, with the kid busy,” Bickslow began as Lisanna groaned some, but followed faithfully after her sister, “Elfman, buddy, pal, you think you could, uh, you know…turn all my other kittens?”

“They’d never grow up,” the other man pointed out. “And they would have to come down to the cellar each morning, with us. And they will only drink-”

“Hey, man, as a single father, I’d love to get rid of them for twelve hours a day.”

With the evening’s big hullabaloo already solved, Laxus felt a bit lost in the shuffle. Instead of seeking out Evergreen in Elfman’s absence (who he imagined would be much like Freed; a useless shell that merely made him sad), he went back outside, to the tree he’d sat beneath before, and put his headphones back in.

But he felt it, all the same, when the evening wind picked up, and Laxus didn’t have to stare up at the specific window to know she was there, watching him, glass in hand. Waiting. Thinking. Lurking.

As he leaned back into the tree, ignoring the urge to to her, up in her room, to be with her, he merely shut his eyes and tried to drift away. Pretend he was back home. In his tiny apartment he and Freed shared, just listening to music and thinking about this strange dream he’d been having lately.

A nightmare, really, it was.

#Miraxus #Request #Vampire #AU #Fairy Tail #Fanfiction

6 notes · View notes

cosmosbunnies · 6 years ago

Text

How Fire Emblem Fates tried, and failed, to live up to Awakening.

Fire Emblem Awakening was a tonal and mechanical masterpiece. It set a new bar for Fire Emblem games and the like, so Fates had a lot to live up to. And boy, did it try. And fail. I've got about a million complaints about this game, but I'll list my top three here:

Setup

Fire emblem awakening's avatar, Robin, was relatable. Not in deep ways, but we could sympathize with their situation. They knew exactly what we knew about the world – nothing. They awoke with amnesia and were found by the royal family. Amnesia is a wrote plot point, but its popularity is not baseless. In games especially, dropping the player into the second act allows for swift action, and playing catchup in the story comes for naturally to a player who knows everything their character does, meaning dialogue and exposition can come across as being natural and not ham-fisted.

On the other hand, we have Fates. Mind you, I have only played Fire Emblem Fates: Conquest, but I believe these problems extend to Birthright as well; the setup is bad. Instead of giving our player character no knowledge of the world around them via amnesia, they use a different method; seclusion. Corrin as a character is locked away inside of the Nohrian castle throughout their entire childhood and is only allowed in the outside world during the rising action of the story. This, akin to Robin, gives them no knowledge of the world around them. There's one key distinction, however; the family. In Conquest, Corrin knows their family well, and there is an existing dynamic that was built up long before we, the player, entered the scene. So, while Corrin knows nothing of the war and the land, they know much of these characters – and we do not. This flows very poorly. The characters end up awkwardly barking out their relationship to our main character in expositional dialogue before we ever end up even fighting alongside them, instead of having those relationships grow in real-time as we play and allowing us, the player, to form a relationship with the cast based in mechanics while Corrin gets to know them in the narrative. Corrin already loves the cast, regardless of what we think, and we have no choice in the matter. Fates makes the erroneous assumption that the player's interest in the world around them exists in a vacuum, but in reality an average player is interested in how the world exists in relation to the established characters and mechanics, not in the Deep Lore. In fact, Deep Lore is called just that because players who desire knowledge of the world are willing to go to greater lengths to uncover it than players who do not care. This is what in-game history books are for.

Marriage

Fire Emblem Awakening introduced a new mechanic: marriage. Your characters' relationships would grow organically as they fought, and this would eventually lead to (straight) marriage, which would eventually lead to children. The plot of the game involved time travel, and thus a new system was born; the child soldiers. Children are born of your units, your units die in the future, and those children grow up alone and scared, learning to fight for themselves. Eventually, they all get together and use the fire emblem to go back in time. They meet their parents. They introduce themselves. They fight, as they always have, but this time with hope renewed. This created a fantastic dynamic; a younger solider in their prime, with a child they know they'll eventually have but are meeting for the first time. Throw in some well written, natural dialogue, a few fun time travel jokes, and you've got yourself a compelling personal story. It also tied into the main plot in a significant way, having Lucina be a product of this same time travel fiasco. Fire Emblem Fates takes a… different approach. Halfway through act II of the story, you enter an alternate universe. The place is strange, scary and full of mindless evil entities. You meet a character who had been presumed dead, and you fight your way out with him in tow. Upon leaving, you're informed that if any of your characters mention this alternate reality to anyone, they will cease to exist. The point is then dropped, and the unrelated story continues. This puzzled me… A lot. Why did this exists? Was is setting up a structure for a future plot point? Was it world building? I had no idea, I was completely confused.

And then Corrin married.

This was my first marriage in the game, as honestly, none of the characters (save for Niles/Odin, and Effie/Mozu) had what I saw as a real connection, so I waited some time. Corrin and Keaton got married. A popup appeared onscreen afterwords. “A baby was born. The baby is placed in an alternate reality to grow up safe from harm, but a side effect of this reality is that time flows differently, making the children grow up very quickly.” Ah. I see. It makes sense now – the alternate universe is a plot contrivance, created in service to the brand of “You can have children and fight alongside them.” So then you pluck these kiddos from their isolated homes one by one, skipping over the major plot hole of 'Corrin spent nine months fighting while pregnant and then had a baby in the middle of a war? How long did this war take?' and jumping right to “Let's recruit child soldiers.” And so you do. You recruit every child to fight, much to the apparent behest of the mother and father. There is no reasoning to explain why these sensible adults are asking young teenagers to fight in a deadly war. It's simply a fun mechanic, and the game does not expect us to think about it. Except it strips the system of its most important aspects: A) The children do not HAVE to fight to save a doomed world, and B) The parents and the children know one another well. This has removed both the believability of the plot point and the charm in the interactions, leaving us with strange relationships bland dialogue that has an overabundant use of the word “daddy,” which should be purged from every writer's page as it is written.

Incest

You can just. You can just marry your siblings in this game. And have children with them.

At first I though Camilla's apparent attraction to the player character was simply because she was explicitly designed for horny fans to drool over. While this is still true, it's not the only reason she shows an interest in her sibling, as she's more than willing to marry and have children with them. “Oh, it's fine!” You might say. “They're not siblings by blood, you see, so it's morally fine!” Which is the stance the game seems to take. I am not going to explain why incest bad. I will also not drone on about how in the game's counterpart, Birthright, your player is related by blood for plot purposes, but as not to miss out on banging your siblings, each sibling will explain just before marrying you that you're actually not related to them by blood either. Nope, definitely not going to touch that subject.

Small gripes:

I lied about only listing three things. Here are a few notable issues

-You can dress your characters up in stupid looking accessories that add nothing to the game and 95% of the time clip heavily inside the character's model. The characters ASK you to dress them up, and some of them even comment on how silly this is during a war.

-“A+” rank is a cop-out created in an attempt to appease the Queer community without alienating any fans, and the fact that they couldn't be bothered to write any dialogue for the A+ rank relationships shows their lack of interest in queer representation while they sit back and get praise of major publications for “progressivism”

-In the Japanese version you pet your friends on the face Pokemon-Amie style to get them to like you more. I am glad they removed this for the western release

-In the final cinematic, they paid a team of animators to animate your character's first-person experience as they run face-first into their sisters boobs, which joyfully go “Boioioing” and shake like maracas as you reel.

-Sometimes you walk in on your allies naked in the hot springs. You walk all the way in, sit down, relax and stare at the naked peer for seconds before they say “Hey I'm uh… Naked here.” As which point Corrin goes “Sorry!” and sprints out of the room with the speed of a cheetah. I do not know why this happens.

-Keaton is unreasonably erotic when you marry him. Fully voice-acted, he whispers sweet nothings into your ear as the screen fades to black. He is a furry's wet dream. This is not a complaint.

-The story toys with this “abusive father with a family of children who are closer for having a common enemy with whom they have a love/hate relationship” thing, but fails to say ANYTHING meaningful on the subject. It's just empty story dressing

-At one point, you have to choose to either kill or spare a person who just tried to kill you. If you spare him, he joins your party. This goes nowhere, and puzzles me as a narrative choice. He doesn't even bother to betray you or anything, he simply stops mattering.

-Nohr should be dark, gloomy, fun and interesting, and instead it fails to spark the imagination even slightly, instead being “Bland fantasy setting but some of the trees are dead.” Give me some purple and black in that color palette! C'mon!

-There are two wolfskin characters. They are different genders, different heights and weights, but use the same exact model in wolf form. Compare these to the bunny people in awakening who have my heart forever, and this is a major insult.

Thanks for reading

#this post is for NOBODY #video games #fire emblem #awakening #fates #conquest #critisicm

16 notes · View notes

beautypoin-blog · 5 years ago

Text

Tips for your first time at a beauty parlour

Magnificence parlors are the zones of riddle and puzzle to many, given its capacity of before-after change impacts inside a few hours. The main visit to a stunner salon is constantly paramount. It takes a great deal to overcome oneself through the entryways of those powder rooms. It will be one more achievement in venturing up your round of elegance. I'll attempt to share a few hints and traps to facilitate this procedure yet I can guarantee these won't help.

Agony FROM EYEBROW PLUCKING > HEARTBREAK

In the event that you don't figure anything can deteriorate than your grievousness, at that point reconsider and drag yourself to a parlor and get your eyebrows culled and molded. Trust me, the principal scratch of the string against those sensitive foreheads would cause you to disregard how he took an hour to content back. While you are caught up with getting sad, ensure that the beautician isn't visiting ceaselessly with her companions and leaving your eyebrows to resemble a strand of wet spaghetti all the while. Disclose to her that 00's called and they need their eyebrows back.

Try not to LET THEIR WORDS HURT LIKE WAXING DOES

Before you get your first popular makeover, be set up to have some barbarous agrees heaved at you by the quintessential women at the gathering about your undesirable conditions. They would be distraught at you for not dealing with your own hair and skin and drive you to the point of blame where you would feel like you have wronged them. They would swear on their occupations about how their new 'precious stone hair spa' would reestablish your hair to its previous wonder. Try not to give this a chance to disintegrate you. You are fine.

Be careful With THE BATICUT

Be that as it may, among all the problem of getting the ideal since a long time ago layered blast with edges, don't finish up with the notorious baticut, where your hair winds up in the state of a repulsive bowl. If there should be an occurrence of such a disaster, make an effort not to cry but rather you definitely know how it will end. Focus in the event that you are there only for a hair trim, or else the trim would transform into a group trim before you even know it. These specialists will in general try too hard a little if not halted. In the event that you don't trust me, attempt to get a look at the cosmetics on one of the ladies. You will find your own appearance gazing back at you.

Find YOURSELF

You will before long discover the sort of client you would end up being after a couple of visits simply as I did, which for my situation would be the quiet screamo. Regardless of whether it's stringing or the antichrist of enhancing exercises, waxing; I have shouted and yelled to the final turning point, yet just in my mind. These beauticians have a scary emanation about them and I would prefer to keep quiet than let out a drab cry.

Be that as it may, not all end up being such. A few clients would be the grumblers whose steady griping would legitimize the activities of Sweeny Todd if you catch my drift. Some would cheerfully share their spiced up stories, capable of being heard enough for anybody in the region. You should listen stealthily a bit while lying back with every one of the stacks of mud all over. Or on the other hand you could simply rest.

Continuously PICK YOUR Favorite SALON ATTENDANT

They would continuously change in accordance with your characteristics and give additional consideration to your needs once you pay those additional tips. Not just that, you will before long know about many characterized data including which of the facials really work and which are fake treatment.

As much as I sound like an unforgiving faultfinder of these council of insider facts, I won't almost certainly abstain myself from my every other week visits there. Like all other feared things throughout everyday life, there will never be a way out from this one too. Albeit, at the present time, I will overlook all that I just said and go for a neck rub.

Tips for your first time at a beauty parlour Watch The Video

youtube

1 note · View note

icarianfate-blog · 6 years ago

Text

Something that’s very important to me and I don’t budge on is Regulus’s continued attachment to his family and connections in the elitist pureblood society. There’s a few reasons for this, which I’ll go into here.

1. Life is Messy

Did Regulus grow thanks to his exposure to the darkest parts of his community, the reality behind their beliefs and his views become less bigoted over time? Yes. But the fact he no longer views muggleborns as filth doesn’t eradicate a lifetime of indoctrination, a need for human connection, a justified fear of rejection, still loving your family even when they’re awful, or utterly pragmatic needs like business partnerships. He’s not Sirius or Andromeda, for Regulus utterly removing himself from the society they were raised in is not an option. Life is messy and sometimes you’re the liberal-ish gay cousin at christmas dinner trying to fend off war flashbacks because your baby cousin just said the word “lake”.

Regulus -- like Draco -- became a Death Eater at 16 and in canon died at 18. By the end of the second war Regulus is 36. He saw and did terrible things at an incredibly young age, then had to totally restructure his whole world view alone with no one to really talk to about it and rebuild his entire life-- all while dealing with the physical, psychological and social consequences of his actions. While it doesn’t take him long at all to mellow out, it does take him longer to defrag his ideology and figure out what the hell he does believe now and how to express those new beliefs accurately. Basically the man’s a mess and that’s really to be expected.

2. Portraying the Spectrum

I also feel it’s very important to have people who fall more on the “Bad Side” who are well, not so bad. While on paper these topics are very black and white in reality they’re not always so clean cut. Something I’ve always hated about Harry Potter is that until about the last 2 books there’s basically not a single “Good” Slytherin even mentioned let alone seen. Yes there are people like Severus who are there from the start, but he’s not revealed to be a “Good Slytherin” until the very end, the rest of the time he’s portrayed as one of the worst ones. This always just pissed me off so much, it’s just such an unnecessary and trite demonization of a whole group-- worse, a group of children. Yes it’s the most likely place for the Dracos of the world to end up, but that doesn’t mean every single child who was ever sorted into it is a Death Eater in the making. But we never see those Slytherins and it really, really pisses me off.

Regulus is not a “Good Person” in the sense he was always secretly good and eventually ~~broke free of the evil mind control and is now Pure again~~. I hesitate to even call him a good person honestly, even though his last and only canon acts speak to someone who is unwavering good and self-sacrificing. In his youth he genuinely believed in some truly terrible things but he had his own inherit limits and morals he could not sacrifice even for his family and their beliefs. That’s important, not everyone on that side is a Bellatrix, and while being less awful than Bellatrix doesn’t exactly earn you a medal it does speak to the spectrum. He’s not the best, but he’s definitely not the worst.

By the time the first war is over Regulus is on a knife’s edge at the near perfect center of the spectrum between acceptance and bigotry. He’s proof that a Slytherin coming from the most stereotypical, toxic pureblood upbringing with all the classic Slytherin traits can still buck a lot of the script and actually manage to not be a complete bastard.

3. Never Burn Bridges You Could Still Use

In true Slytherin fashion, we come to a manipulative, Game of Thrones-y reason. This is one of the key reasons for him IC and also one of the things I think can be difficult for people to get or swallow. Where most people likely feel that the only correct option would be to pull a Sirius and disown the family-- that they themselves could never stomach putting up with all the heinous things these pureblood types say and cannot imagine someone who doesn’t believe it doing just that for any reason-- the fact is that’s not always the right move, and that there are people who can do it just fine.

Regulus isn’t a fool. He’s the well-educated, intelligent son of a rich, prominent pureblood family with lots of connections all over the place in the wizarding community who got sorted into the “win or die trying” house. Publicly renouncing half or more of those connections is frankly a terrible idea for him to do on so many levels. He loses a LOT of power, access and leverage he could actually use to do things that could actually be a boon in the long run. While unlike Severus he wasn’t --and likely doesn’t become a spy ( though that is up for debate )-- those connections could be vital for his continued survival and provide a means of keeping tabs on enemies.

Why on earth would he run around making enemies of everyone he could still use? How does that help anyone? Especially when he’s already mastered the art of placating and maneuvering these types of people.

4. Love, Sentimentality and Loyalty are just as Powerful Weaknesses as Strengths

Something we actually get from canon is that Regulus is an unquestionably loving, loyal and compassionate person. When he has Kreacher take him to the cave he drinks the potion, he sacrifices himself. This is not something someone who is not at their core compassionate, empathetic and loving does. He saw the effects the potion had on Kreacher, he heard what he had gone through, and when the time came he refused to make the elf go through that again.

"And he order-- Kreacher to leave-- without him. And he told Kreacher -- to go home-- and never to tell my Mistress-- what he had done-- but to destroy-- the first locket. And he drank-- all the potion-- and Kreacher swapped the lockets-- and watched ... as Master Regulus ... was dragged beneath the water ... and ..."

"[...] that Regulus changed his mind ... but he doesn't seem to have explained that to Kreacher, does he? And I think I know why. Kreacher and Regulus's family were all safest if they kept to the old pure-blood line. Regulus was trying to protect them all." "[...] I've said all along that wizards would pay for how they treat house-elves. Well, Voldemort did ... and so did Sirius." [...] I do not think Sirius ever saw Kreacher as a being with feelings as acute as a human's ...

This core of kindness and empathy is both what ended up causing him to defect and also what keeps him tied to what family and friends he has left. It’s hard, especially when you are so loyal and loving to cut out people who you’ve known your whole life, who you love and love you back. Bellatrix is a monster she’s easy to cut out but Narcissa? How could he really cut ties with one of his only living relatives, who’s likely his favorite cousin? Who is herself a fiercely loving and loyal woman? It would take a lot for him to finally cut ties with his loved ones still in the purist community and it’s frankly one of his greatest failings.

5. No One likes a Former Death Eater

The cruel fact of the matter is that regardless of your reformation most people will not accept or acknowledge it and treat you like you are still a monster. Regulus could try -- and does try-- to integrate more with the mainstream, but it’ll always be met with mixed success at best because he was a Death Eater. Unless he moved to a different country, it’d be difficult to really start over again completely with any real solid success. The majority of the wizarding world socially ostracizes him while still engaging with him on a business and political level because of his status. The only people who still want to have a cuppa with him are all in the same boat as him, bigots or purist sympathizers.

He’s human, and however much he’d like to gripe about people and wanting to be left alone forever to become a hermit he craves interaction, especially since he himself is an intensely social extroverted person. If he cuts these people out of his life he basically has no one to talk to anymore and he’s left totally isolated, which would frankly lead to much worse and dangerous places for him.

6. Someone here has to be the Voice of Reason

Having literally no one in that community who isn’t a total nightmare is asking for trouble. Not only because it allows the toxicity to stew and intensify unchecked but it also means no one is there to try and help the younger generations break free of the cycle. If he just left like Andromeda and Sirius he’s just making it worse by removing a more moderate voice from the communal discussion. It’s not even about trying to show them the error of their ways, that’s in fact a terrible way to go about things with people like this. It’s about diluting the toxic ideology, providing the less dangerous paths and laying out the framework that can act as the basis for someone else’s journey out of the quagmire.

For example, when looking at cults and hate groups, the worst way to reach those people is by trying to point out everything wrong and arguing with them, it only entrenches them more. You make more progress by staying close and quietly slipping in the information and tools they need to work things out themselves. Telling someone they’re in a destructive cult will get you nothing, but telling them about this book you read about some terrible cult and all the signs of one you learned from it and isn’t that just wild? These people are bad news huh? Here give it a read yourself-- Is far more effective in the long run.

By being there he acts as a moderate, neutral adult figure who the children can both model and look to for support. He’s much safer than most of their families and willing to be the sounding board for their own debates and give advice from a place of having literally been right where they are now. He can act as a mid-point between the extremely insular and toxic pureblood community, the mainstream wizarding world, and thanks to his time in hiding, the muggle world for purebloods looking to escape or just broaden themselves.

#meta tbt.#reference tbt.#i'm not formatting this more than it is bc i don't hate myself #and i'm not bothering with a cut bc fuck the police #hc tbt #ooc tbt

4 notes · View notes