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clockworklozenges · 4 years ago

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So, a good five or so years back, I played in one of the best worst DnD games I have ever been in. The DM had bought the Libris Mortis book, which, if you were unaware, was a 3.5 splatbook adding in a lot of undead stuff, including some monsters and undead player races and stuff. Wanting to try it out, me and my gaming group decided to play things from it, our then DM deciding to run a completely homebrewed session. This proved to be a...

Terrible Idea™

(for the uninitiated, never homebrew something you do not fully understand unless it's just cosmetic. If you want to make all elves worship the god of garlic bread, Ultimo-Metatron-Omega, go ahead, but unless you know how the game works, don't make mechanical changes). So we all picked stuff from the books-one player played a skeleton Sorcerer who in life was a tribal shaman, but an attempt at healing went wrong, turning him undead as his life energy was replaced with negative energy, explaining why most of his spells were necromancy and suchlike.

Another player played Krug, an antipaladin in very spiky full plate. He was a zombie made by a necromancer of a paladin who was fighting him, but his allies killed his would-be master before he could assert control, and not wanting to just off him, his allies just...yeeted his body into a portal and hoped it'd re-kill him. It did not kill him hard enough. It did, however, explain his stats which...oof. He had already got debuffs to some stats due to being a zombie, and rolled abysmally. Fortunately for the player, he played mostly to socialise, so didn't much care.

I played... Count Nox Feratu, the Campire. As in, a vampire with a very camp German accent, which I did not break for the whole time I was playing him. To the point where "ach, nein, I haf bin heet! Heal me, meine freunde!" was par for the course. My overly camp vamp was a wizard, but due to level adjustment was a bit of a shoddy one. For backstory, he'd been ousted from his clan for ineptitude, and had sworn revenge. I was going for a swordmage build but never got there. All his spells were utility or just necromancy spells.

Our last player played...sigh...Damien Bloodmoon, cleric of Nerull, God of murder and undeath. He was one of the clerics from the book's murder Domain, meaning that he got buffs to damage. He was a vicious arse both in character and out of it, and was so dripping with edge compared to the paladin with the same IQ as a horse after its trip to the glue factory, the shaman who thought killing fixed people and the Campire that if you gave him a pat on the back you'd have finely diced your hand into a red mist. Not going too outlandish with his backstory of wanting to dominate the world as his undead thralls, Damien F***ing Bloodmoon had only taken spells which either charmed live people, dealt negative energy damage or messed with ability drain and suchlike, which he used with aplomb on townsfolk on our way to our objective. He was also, importantly, playing an elf of some sort, I forget which kind. Meaning that of the party, only one was alive.

So, just as an aside, for those of you that haven't played 3.5e DnD or have only played 5e, in Libris Mortis, undeath was gone over in detail, and had a litany of pros and cons. For one thing, undead had only the HP they had-folks like Damien F***ing Bloodmoon could be 'dying', and had some time to be stabilised before meeting the reckoning of Papa John and dying proper. Undead did not, it was just how much you had and if you ran out, poof, you're dust, bones and fertiliser again. You were also harmed by positive energy, so healing spells hurt you, as did potions of healing. However, undead were kind of hardy - poison immunity, some had resistance to non-magical melee damage, stuff that drained your ability scores and levels didn't work on them, some crits wouldn't do extra damage, and the best part- negative energy healed undead. Meaning all the spells our party had which damaged others like the living Damien Bloodmoon were curative ones for us. Keep this in mind.

So, we began our quest, learning of a necromancer a nearby town was plagued by. After using our skills (to whit: Damien Bloodmoon charming and drawing the life force out of random villagers and the only potion seller in the town whilst we went shopping. Krug got a snazzy hat, which we put on top of his helmet, and we chatted to townsfolk as I looked alive enough to pass as human and the shaman had a fake beard and toupee that people were too awkward to point out was fake so went along with it) we learn that the necromancer has a base of operations in the cemetery. "Oh ja, zo original, dahlink. Ve vill need to educate zis guy on vhat is chic and vhat is just shabby!"

So we head there and the nightmare begins. Damien Leads the charge, using all of his knowledge to deduce that the shambling horde moving towards us were stronger-than-your-average-bear undead, and he was right. These were powerful armoured zombie mages of some sort, casting ability draining spells, negative energy ray spells and even having auras of negative energy that dealt damage on a failed Fortitude save. Even their punch and quarterstaves did negative energy damage as well as the usual bludgeoning or unarmed. However...only one of us was really in danger and the DM's face fell when the squishy casters walked up and began shanking their super-special homebrew zombie wizards, being healed by the damage of their attacks as we cut them down.

Like I said, one of the benefits of undeath is that negative energy actually heals you. So the strikes of the magic staves and punches that hit us did some basic damage. Which was then immediately healed by the negative energy their weapon strikes and spells were doing.

However, you'll recall that Damien Bloodmoon was an elf. And not dead. Being a Cleric of a death god doesn't mean that you have the abilities of an undead. That meant that even with the DM being merciful, by the end of the first fight he was covered in blood, mud and withered away to just above half his original strength and constitution. More were patrolling, so we had to run. But that posed a problem.

Remember Krug had heavy armour? And recall his awful stats? He in fact, hadn't got enough strength to wear the armour he'd been given for backstory. He didn't, according to the DM, have enough to remove his own armour. And we attempted to, but also failed our checks according to the DM. And Damien Bloodmoon refused to help, simply blaming Krug and his player. Krug's player thought it was hilarious, and Krug only had enough Intelligence and Wisdom to say his own name, so saw no problem. And Krug, Nox Feratu and Shaman realised that there really...wasn't a problem.

For us, at least.

We slogged through three combats dragging Krug and wading through the mud with him. His speed was so slow that for every step he took, we took about ten. The DM was confused and infuriated that his encounters weren't working, but refused to change them. So we had fun role-playing. Or at least three of us did.

Damien Bloodmoon refused to roleplay, and none of his ranged spells could affect the zombie mages. When he went into melee, he came out wounded as all hell. He went down twice, and it was only the healing supplies of the shaman that saved him.

All the while, he was... Let's say not best pleased. Damien Bloodmoon was getting increasingly wounded, exasperated and longing for the sweet embrace of death as reprieve from the humiliation. His player was getting increasingly redder and rage-filled as time passed. Each fight ended with our characters stronger than ever and his a bloody pulp on the floor, with poor in-character knowledge (and terrible rolls) preventing him from realising why.

Eventually, we reached the final boss, pausing only to paint Krug's armour in contact poison just in case, and to find a stick to help the now-partially-crippled Damien Bloodmoon, cleric of death and murder, walk after being beaten up by angry zombie wizards for hours. And it had, indeed, been hours. Among us, only Damien had a bonus to strength, and we had two swords, a mace and a staff between the four of us. Meaning it was re-death by a thousand cuts for the enemy and a slog and a half for us.

We reach the necromancer and, having taken so long due to dragging the oblivious Krug with us, his big ritual is complete- he raises a fist-sized black onyx egg aloft, crackles with arcane power and causes the bones around him to coalesce into one massive creature - an undead, giant-sized rust monster, radiating an Aura of pure negative energy. Krug opened his arms wide, eager for the metal-eating monster cockroach to free him from his poison-painted metal prison. It ignores him as he's still very far away. Me and the others have our weapons and armour devoured.

Our DM was very much a stickler for note-taking. So because Damien Bloodmoon hadn't written 'clothes' on his sheet, his armour being eaten by the monster left him naked and afraid.

It became clear that the DM had done another f***y-wucky. See, the Aura of negative energy healed me and the Sorcerer by more than its other attacks did. So whilst Damien Bloodmoon was naked, soaked in mud and bleeding to death almost crushed to a pulp in the fetal position, rocking backwards and forwards as his player seethed with hatred, the Shaman and the Campire set about beating the thing to death with our bear hands and a stick.

The session ended once we killed the necromancer, or rather when Krug walked up to him, closed his arms and just crushed the noodle-armed bad guy to death with the weight of his ridiculous armour and poisoned him with its paintwork.

We never revisited the game afterwards. We were told later on that the DM wanted us to use the non-undead races. But at no point had he said as much, even when we asked him about our characters and the restrictions on them. We also learned a valuable lesson. DM for the players who are there, not the ones who you have an idealised mental image of. Tailor your game, otherwise you'll get a sitcom featuring a camp nosferatu, a shaman with no healing, a paladin who could barely move and a Cleric of murder who was ironically the only one at risk of actually dying.

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peachcitt · 3 years ago

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I've seen a lot of people saying that rot was BAD, what is your opinion?

OH IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED

like most people (im sure) after finishing rise of the titans, after wiping up my tears i went to the rot tag to see maybe some gifs or something. you know, make myself cry a little more. instead, i found a bunch of people saying how much they hated the ending, how it was as terrible as some of the worst big finale bombs (endgame, game of thrones, etc) and uh. im not saying the ending is perfect, but it is DEFINITELY not as disastrous as what people are making it out to be, in my opinion. i thoroughly enjoyed the movie, actually, and i thought it was an effective way to end the tales of arcadia.

warning: rise of the titans spoilers, as well as general tales of arcadia spoilers

were there some things i didn't like? yeah!

the major things i didn't like align with a lot of what i see other people saying:

the weird mpreg plotline with steve. it just felt so strange and out of place, and it was used as a tactic to remove eli and steve from the major action, which i don't like.

and the 'ninth configuration' thing that, once again, excluded eli and steve. i didn't see a reason why they shouldn't have been there, seeing as they have contributed to trollhunting since nearly the start of all of the tales of arcadia. multiples of three are clean and smooth, i get it, but at the expense of two characters that were so lovingly developed in trollhunters and 3below?? yikes

with that being said, though, i don't agree with what a lot of people are saying about the time travel at the end. obviously, they bring up some good points - by changing the timeline so drastically, there's no way for jim to ensure that they'll be able to succeed or if the arcane order will even act in the same way. it's a big 'if' and it is worth thinking about

but people have been saying that the ending is out of jim's character and negates his arc, and i have to say. that's not true.

if you've been following my blog since july 1st, you'll know that ive spent the past twenty one days rewatching the entire tales of arcadia series at a steady pace, and within that time, i've paid a whole lot of attention to jim's arc as a character and how the finale of trollhunters left me feeling as if something just wasn't clicking right. his arc wasn't finished.

because all throughout trollhunters, jim is constantly having to prove his worth - and most of the time, the way he's proving his worth is by sacrificing himself. he takes all the blame when anything goes wrong, and on some level, jim never truly learns the lesson from season one of trollhunters that he's enough as a hero because he has his friends to back him up. like, yeah, he relies on them a bit more after that, but in the end, he still stands in the bathroom alone, separated from all his allies, and shoulders the burden of turning into a troll alone. and he leaves arcadia, the city he was fighting so hard to protect, and he leaves his best friend, the one that has been with him since the beginning.

then we get wizards, where jim lets himself be corrupted to save his friends. and then, because of that sacrifice, he ends up hurting all of them. i believe this fact - that he willingly corrupted himself, separated himself from his allies, and ended up hurting the people he loved - shook jim's foundation as a hero, which is why he can't believe he's the trollhunter without the amulet. the amulet was the physical manifestation of what it meant to be a hero to him, but it was destroyed when he was corrupted - it was destroyed when he hurt his friends.

that's how we see him in rise of the titans; he's still struggling with his identity as a hero because he doesn't have the amulet or the unshakable foundation he previously had of his heroism. literally everyone is looking for him to be the leader and make the huge, world-saving-or-destroying decisions, but he can't shoulder that huge burden knowing he could hurt everyone. and then, just to add fuel to the fire, it's his plan that causes people to die or be permanently separated from the group. and he can't even get the sword out of the stone! why? because he himself doesn't see himself as worthy - how can you think of yourself as worthy when you just got two of your allies killed and two more gone, presumably for forever?

but this is the moment it finally clicks for jim. he looks around at his allies, and he sees them reflected in the amulet. he's not alone, he doesn't have to be worthy just by himself, he has an entire group of people who have fought by his side time and time again that, even despite all the mistakes and missteps he's made, are still by his side.

and what makes the amulet work, in the final fight, is his firm determination to see this fight through, no matter if he has the armor or not. he's terrified, he's probably going to die - but it's that bravery despite the fear that makes him a hero, a trollhunter, amulet or not. and he knows that now - he's had to face it before, in the unbecoming episode, but it's different now. in the unbecoming episode, he was truly alone when he decided to face the fight. and he's alone here in rise of the titans - but not for long! because almost immediately after jim comes to terms with his place as a hero again, toby comes along, and he doesn't finish this fight alone!! he finishes this fight with another trollhunter, who doesn't have an amulet!!

jim deciding to rewind time to back before the events of trollhunters is a bold choice, but it tracks with a theme in wizards - merlin told douxie that what set him apart as a master wizard was his belief that every life was valuable and worthy of being saved. this theme is repeated in the new amulet in rise of the guardians; it's for the glory of all, not just for one person.

and jim deciding to have toby become the trollhunter finally marks the completion of jim's arc. instead of shouldering the burden alone, which is inevitably what would've happened if jim had rewound time, kept all of his memories, and accepted the amulet again, jim is choosing to accept allies into his life sooner. instead of being the trollhunter, jim is letting himself be a trollhunter, alongside all the other trollhunters.

of course, there's some things in this alternate timeline i don't like; mainly that no one stepped in to stop steve from bullying eli. that, to me, was the most out of character, and i can only assume jim didn't step in because he's leaving room for that fight to be toby's; competing against steve was a large jumpstart to jim feeling like he could be strong enough to bear the mantle, and maybe jim was just trying leave it up to toby to establish that on his own. still, i didn't like it.

and, of course, there are people lamenting the fact that none of the heroes of arcadia know each other or that they might not have the same relationships, but i immediately thought of the time loop episode in 3below. in that episode, the trollhunters team and the gang from 3below meet and become friends and ultimately lose the memory of that friendship from that day. however, in that episode, blinky says that true friendship would last against the test of time; if they were meant to be together, then they would be. and guess what? even though none of them remember that happening, they all still became friends. it was meant to be.

i think a lot of anxieties about the changed timeline are because people loved the events of trollhunters so much that they a) don't want to see anything changed and/or b) are trying to project the events of trollhunters onto the new timeline and are upset when they don't fit. toby won't be the same kind of hero that jim is, though - he never has been. inevitably, the story will be different, and that's scary. that was the risk jim took, though, and jim has always trusted in toby, so why shouldn't we?

to me, tales of arcadia has never been about clean endings that make you feel entirely good. they've always left me with a tang of bitter along with the sweet, and i think that's the point. tales of arcadia has always battled with hard questions and difficult endings, and i don't see rise of the titans being any different from that.

like i said before, i don't think rise of the titans is perfect. but you can hate it as much as you want; i still really think it did a good job with the story it was trying to tell. i mean, ending with the idea that all lives are important and worth saving, no matter the risk? that heroism inherently means being part of a collective that you trust and believe in? that through time and space, you will always be able to find and connect with the people you love? that's powerful.

im climbing off my soapbox now, but basically tl;dr: rise of the titans was a good finale, despite it's imperfections, and i think that's all i can ask for.

also if you don't like toby as the trollhunter just because you don't like him breaking out of the 'funny sidekick' archetype you can die by my blade

#anon #ask #rise of the titans #rot #rot spoilers #jim lake jr #rott #rott spoilers #what im trying to say is media does not have to be perfect in order for you to enjoy it #and not only did i enjoy rot i also just. thought it was good? it didn't invalidate any of the rest of toa to me at all #the story we witnessed was still valuable; that was why we were shown this version #i won't get philosophical but like. i am.#all that being said it should've been jim telling the story in the beginning #WBKEBKEWKW I JUST REALIZED THERE WAS NO DOUXIE WITH HIS SICK ASS GUITAR. so that too

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spectrumed · 4 years ago

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1. piano

The brain is a musical instrument. How it sounds all depends on who is playing it. The keys, the strings, the tubes, the circuits, none of them make noise on their own. Some may argue (some very aggressively) that every instrument has one exact way that it should be played. That there is one correct way to play the piano, and then there’s several incorrect (deviant!) ways to play the piano. But a classically trained pianist will not play the piano in quite the same way as a self-taught jazz pianist will play the piano. Sure, the latter does employ some stylings unique to them. They have an idiosyncratic way of playing that makes their sound highly notable, possibly even sought after. While the former, the classically trained musician, they’ve been taught to minimise many of those quirky individual traits that could, potentially, distract from the classical compositions that they will be playing. In jazz, music is carried by unique characters and a strong sense of individualism. In classical, music is carried by tradition, norm, and history.

It should not be understood that the classically trained musician plays without soul or passion. While we, in the western world, have become more and more infatuated with the idea of the self-made artist, the amateur who makes their way to success and stardom solely through will, and quite often a manic compulsion to create, there is no wrong way to play an instrument. However you make it work, whatever sounds you are able to produce, you are playing that instrument. You are channeling your inner essence into the music you are performing, no matter what genre you belong to. No-one plays their instrument the exact same way, for certain, but everyone is playing with what they’ve got.

How do you think? You’re used to being asked “what do you think?” But how do you think? Do you see pictures in your head? Do you experience an inner monologue? Are you riddled with anxiety? Have you ever hallucinated? Do you think that you think good, or do you think that you think bad? If we return to our metaphor of the brain as a musical instrument, what sort of music do you think you’d play? Sure, there’s the classical world, and the jazz world, but of course, that’s hardly the music most people will listen to nowadays. Do you think in pop songs? Or do you think in big heavy metal epics? Or maybe what you are is a maniac for dance music. You may find like-minded friends who like the same kind of music as you do. I think that there is a correlation between what music we like and how we perceive the world. Does listening to a certain song send you back? Does a certain tune evoke memories that you may have thought were long since gone? I know that there are some folks out there who say that they do not care much for music, and while I don’t doubt that they absolutely do feel that way, I can personally not imagine where I’d be without my trusty set of headphones and my phone loaded up with a wide library of music I like. It seems to me that music is primal. Almost as if only by understanding music, can one come to understand consciousness. To nab a song title from Jethro Tull (the band, not the agriculturalist,) life is a long song.

But I do admit that I come from a biased perspective. Music means much to me. I’m no musician, but I think that partly stems from a desire to not see “how the sausage is made.” I’d like to be able to listen to a composition without feeling compelled to analyse it, or to study it. I’d rather eat the sausage without having to wonder what bits of the animals this meat came from. Is that the taste of a spleen or a testicle? There are plenty of other things in life to dissect and tear apart just to examine. Perhaps what I wish is to maintain an arcane approach to music. Perhaps I am too enamoured by the idea of the musician as a mystic able to tap into an elevated state of being, some spiritual realm divorced from our own. That look on the guitarist’s face when they successfully manages to convey just the right emotional tone perfectly with that solo. The frisson you feel when the song reaches its climax. That thing we call the sublime. To explain it, well, it simply feels like you are making something splendid mundane. It seems to rob it of its power. Or… Well, maybe that’s not it all. Maybe all I want is just a moment or two when I can relax and avoid thinking about things. For a moment, I’d just like to forget that I’m a person.

The world is so loud. Really, I can guarantee you that if you didn’t have those natural mental filters that we all have, you’d go insane. Every little sound. Every little bit of stimuli. It would all overwhelm you. It would burrow deep into your consciousness, and it would refuse to leave. Ever tried to fall asleep while hearing the dripping water from a leaky tap? Drip, drip, drip. Know how impossible that feels? Well, imagine if you had that feeling always, imagine if all noise felt that visceral and in-your-face. Lucky you’ve got those filters. Turns out, not everyone has them. I don’t. It fucking sucks.

Music is lovely, because music is organised. It has structure. You can listen to a song, remember it, and then follow along as you’re listening to it a second time. Music follows a pattern. There is a logic to patterns. But the everyday noises that surround us do not follow a pattern. Let me tell you, birds are infuriating animals. Sure, their individual little songs can be nice to listen to, but when all the birds of the forest come together, they don’t perform as an orchestra. No, they’re all just doing their own solo piece, completely oblivious to the sounds going on around them. I’m thinking that nature could have done well with a conductor. Someone competent to create order. To make it all just that bit more peaceful. I don’t have those filters others take for granted. I can’t ignore sounds. And that makes the world feel so loud.

It is neat to imagine the human brain as a musical instrument. You can imagine that seasoned player, that old session stalwart who’s played on all the most famous pop hits throughout the decades, and you want to imagine them playing with grace and finesse and showcasing all the amazing sounds that the instrument can produce. But the brain isn’t really some marvel of biological engineering. It’s not intelligently designed. It’s actually just a piece of meat hiding underneath layers of bone, skin, and hair. It’s a complex bit of meat, admittedly. It’s hard to understand exactly how the brain does work. But if you were to open up a person’s cranium, rather than feeling awe, you’d most likely feel grossed out. This thing that we’re supposed to think of as a miraculous product of millennia of evolutionary progress, it looks… Well, it looks awfully pinkish, and wrinkly, and frankly unpleasant.

We’re all mortal beings, made from squishy flesh and blood, scraped together from all that was available at the time. Sure, we may dream and fantasise about one day achieving those heights we aspire towards, to become that perfect superman, whose cognitive abilities put them on par with the mythological titans of the past. But really, we’re all just trying to do our best with what we’ve got. You may not be able to play the finest of Mozart’s many symphonies, the instrument that you’ve been given just simply isn’t up to snuff. Even if all you can play is Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, that shouldn’t weigh on your value as a human being. And besides, that’s still Mozart you’re playing.

I will undoubtedly get back to discussing music in later instalments of this blog. It is truly a major part of my world, and without the joys I associate with it, I would be in a far worse place. But I think that, ultimately, what I wish to arrive at, is the fact that our sensory perceptions have a significant impact on how we piece together our sense of self. While it may be an unnerving thought to consider, what would happen to our understanding of ourselves if we one day were to lose one of our major senses? I am sure that many people could go without their sense of smell. Humans have long since abandoned smell as a dominant sense. To a dog, on the other hand, to lose its sense of smell would be devastating. It would lose part of what it means to be a dog. For humans, we enjoy the scent of freshly baked bread, the whiff of somebody’s perfume, or the bouquet of some pricey bottle of wine. But that’s nothing to what dogs get out of their sense of smell. To a dog, its sense of smell is its world. Is a dog even a dog if it can’t sniff around? Do you think dogs ever take their sense of smell for granted?

I do not think that humans are what we eat, but I suspect that we may be what we perceive. Our consciousness does not exist independently of the world that surrounds it, but rather, it is formed by the outside stimuli it receives on a constant basis. The fury of noises, lights, smells, all kinds of impressions, it shapes you. It is what our memories are built on. I am not at all certain that there exists anything more to the mind beyond that. I doubt that we’ve got some immutable soul hidden underneath it all. Humans are the collection of thoughts and ideas that we’ve attached ourselves to throughout our lives, and naturally, if you’re neurodivergent, that process is going to happen differently to most. At times those differences will be large enough that it can create real conflicts with those others around you. Effectively, to be neurodivergent is to suffer constantly from culture shocks. To me, it is natural to loathe the cacophony of birds in the summer. Their screams feel like piercing needles embedding themselves into my skin. But I try telling that to others, and I’ve yet to find anybody who agrees with me.

So, am I just wrong? Am I mistaken? Am I a freak? Why can’t I just be like everybody else? Why must I be such a buzzkill? I can’t even enjoy birdsong, I really must be a pain to be around. How did it come about that I just can’t be normal? Normal. I want to be normal. It is and it will likely always be grossly underrated to just be normal. Normal people don’t know how good they have it. They’re just too normal to be able to perceive it. When you’ve never been without it, you don’t know what it is to miss it. Normalcy. Having a normal brain. Having others see you as a normal person. Only if you didn’t have it, would you know how great it is. Do you sometimes wonder if dogs know how much they’d miss their sense of smell if they ever were to lose it?

Then again, there is no such thing as normal, is there? If you were to take the world’s most average person, then that person would be abnormal. To be a person is to be unique. We’re all special snowflakes. Aren’t we?

You may not play your instrument in a conventional manner, but who’s to say what manner counts as conventional? It’s all just so arbitrary. Who’s to say you can’t play an acoustic guitar as a drum? Who’s to say you can’t treat your piano as a percussion instrument? Smack your cello with a flute, if you’d like. Isn’t it just delightful when you see a unique performer who is able to play their instrument in a way you could never before have conceived it being played? The novelty of it all. The absolute joy of being exposed to something different. Of seeing something that can barely be believed. You love things that are unusual, and you think people who are different should delight in being different. Surely, it is better than being normal and boring?

But is it all that bad to be boring? And you may love what’s different, but when it comes down to it, despite your positive inclination, you still perceive it as being the other. It is not you. It is not mainstream, it is underground. Secluded. Deviant. Those who truly do struggle to fit in with society, to be just like everybody else, they are constantly faced with these little reminders that they just don’t belong. They are humans (at least they think they are humans,) but they’re not like other humans they know. For as much as they get told that they should embrace their quirky nature as simply being who they are, it is hard to know what it is like to be not normal, when all you’ve ever been is normal. Sure, for a performance or two, it’s fun. It’s fun to get the attention, to be seen as having something others don’t have. But then, at the end of the day, all you want is to be able to fall asleep, without the birdsong outside your window keeping you awake.

#neurodiversity #neurodivergent #autism spectrum disorder #autism #aspergers #mental health

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lady-griffin · 1 month ago

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My In-Depth Takes (that no one really asked for)

Personally, I had to go with Noxus

It’s the region that has the largest number of characters I’m most interested in seeing Jinx interact with, not because they’ll necessarily have positive or even significant relationships with Jinx – I just want to see what could happen if she interacted with Annie, Rell, Briar, Le Blanc, Swain, Samira, and Kled (+ Skaarl).

We already got this with Isha, so it might be redundant now, but when I first learned of Annie (after watching Arcane and diving into league lore), she was the #1 character I wanted to see Jinx interact with. I really, really wanted Jinx to befriend/adopt this little girl.

Overall, how I imagined Jinx would interact with Annie and be like in general was largely confirmed for me with how she acted with Isha. So again, possibly redundant now.

Still though, Jinx and Annie together would be wonderfully, unhinged and delightful to me.

Plus, Jinx being an influence on Annie would solve Annie's character design problem. Basically, as one of the oldest champions, there’s resistance in changing Annie's look, but her design looks and feels way too modern. Which makes sense, she was just an evil little girl trope you could play, not an actual character in a fleshed-out world.

So, in my mind, Jinx and her Zaun influence would be a good way to bridge that gap in Annie’s design story wise – a way to keep a lot of what’s there but now have it make sense for who Annie is and the world she's meant to be a part of.

Bilgewater is a close second.

Jinx would have such a great time in Bilgewater. It's the region that matches her energy the most, after Zaun, plus she kind of had a pirate thing going for her at the end of Arcane. I also can't ignore her and Silco’s love of deep-sea creatures/monsters. Seriously, she would have such a blast.

I believe Jinx and Graves would get along fantastically and have so much fun together and Illaoi could be a good, dare I say healthy, influence on Jinx, while still allowing Jinx to be Jinx. And at the very least something interesting and fun would happen if she were to interact with Miss Fortune or Twisted Fate.

Demacia... meh.

This is definitely my most controversial opinion, because, well you all know how fans/fandoms are.

For me, Jinx in Demacia completely depends on whether they have Lux be an actually interesting character who can stand on her own. Which is more than possible, but in my opinion, the “quality” of Lux’s character varies greatly depending on the source.

And since Lightcannon is a popular ship and Lux is a huge character to the region, I can't see Jinx going to Demacia without interacting with Lux... and I have mixed feelings about that.

Lux doesn’t interest me as a character, therefore Lightcannon doesn't interest me. I know people love them together and I get it in an “academic sense,” but I also don’t get it, because for me it’s just... meh. I don’t feel anger or unbridled hatred, because that would require actual passion and again, all I can really muster is... meh.

But, like I said, it depends on what they do with Lux; so, who knows.

Ionia is last.

I definitely want to see the region, but in regards to Jinx, I'm really only interested in seeing Yasuo react to and deal with her. Aside from him though, none of the other characters intrigued me when it comes to Jinx.

Actually, that's not quite true.

I want to see Jinx interact with Ivern. Is that beyond random? Yes, yes, it is. I honestly have no idea why I'm intrigued by this random idea, but I am.

#League of Legends #Jinx #League Cinematic Universe #Arcane Jinx #Noxus #Bilgewater

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zhuhongs · 4 years ago

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なんか私の想いが溢れ出した. i went out with some friends last night and every time i go out i always realize just how bad i am at communicating and how bad I am with people. (long meandering post under the cut. feel free to ignore its unfocused and long.. like 2k words under there)

I’ve mentioned this before but I don’t really talk much irl. I don’t talk, I can’t connect properly. Every time I’m out with people I just feel fundamentally, like… different. So a group of my irls friends plus me were going to the movie theatre and I personally really hate movie theatres. I knew we were going to one and prepared myself thinking “oh it’ll be fine bc you'll be with friends, just enjoy their company '' But god I really hate movie theaters. It’s been so long, i forgot how much I really really hated them. They’re so loud and bright. I’d much rather watch a movie at home but tbh I also just don’t like movies bc I can’t sit through them and I can’t focus and I don’t get invested easily and I need to be doing something with my hands at all times. To make matters worse, my friend's friend that I really don’t like came along. I just, I don’t like her. She’s just too loud and attention seeking and childish. Like she says things for a reaction, like rlly not okay things sometimes and I just can’t stand her. like we went to see godzilla vs king kong and then entire movie she kept YELLING "IF THEY DONT KISS I WANT MY MONEY BACK" and i was like... you are 21 yrs old oh my god.. this isnt ur tumblr blog in middle school. shut up. But here’s the thing, I don’t know how to tell her or anyone that. Like I just can’t figure out a good way to say it, so I put up with it. Things like this just make me feel incredibly annoyed. I always talk on here about how if I have an issue with anyone, I’ll just say it like an adult. But in face to face situations I just don’t know how to say things. Well I do know how to say it - it’d be easy. I just hate having to do it. Like I don't have to say the whole thing about how I don’t like her but when she says like “simp” when she’s nonblack I could just be like. “Hey don’t say that, here’s why” and I’m sure she’d stop. Yet I can’t bring myself to have that one moment of discomfort to tell her to stop yelling in my ear or stop saying things that make me annoyed. I feel useless in a way. ちゃんとできない。ちゃんと伝えない。During the entire movie I was thinking to myself that I’d rather be home watching a drama by myself and doing hw. I also hate going out for other reasons. I hate being seen. I hate my appearance. I know I don’t have to be pretty, I only need to exist for me. Like wow, I just have so many body image issues, and they all manifest heavily as soon as I go out in public.

But afterwards I changed my mind a bit. There was a moment where we were outside running around in the street and it reminded me of that one scene in AIB episode one with Chota, Karube, and Arisu in the street and I was rlly like… wow… maybe human connection really is good. It doesn’t matter if I’m pretty or good at talking, sometimes, to laugh and be silly wth others is all you need to make your night. Just one moment, just one person really is all it takes. We all went out for dinner afterwards and it was really really fun. I enjoyed it, there really is something about eating with someone that brings you closer to them.

The entire time though, I didn’t talk much. I don’t really know when to cut in in a conversation to a point where it feels right. I feel like by saying my piece I’m interrupting others just to say something that wasn’t really of any use. Really, I prefer silence with others. I’m bad at talking in social situations but I’m great at talking in classes and at work because of the context. Because I’m expected to engage there. The pretense is different. Like you’re supposed to contribute in those places. It’s acceptable to talk there. But for me, it doesn’t really feel acceptable to just share about myself like that in a social group setting. I wish I could always communicate like how I am doing here. It’s so much nicer online. I get to post my full complete thoughts without bothering any of you. My words can easily be disregarded and just flipped through. It’s passive. Posting is passive, talking is active. And sometimes, people don't really want to talk to others, they just want to say their piece. Like when talking about their problems, often we just want to say it and the act of saying those words is all we need. We don’t want input, it annoys us. I don’t like to cut in, and I can never find the right words to say. Even right now, none of this feels like it’s coming out correctly. None of my words feel like they’re coming out correctly nowadays, but this is the only way I know how to be. If I can’t post my thoughts on here, even if they come out crooked and ugly, I may never speak again. I have to keep talking, and typing, and trying otherwise I’ll never get any better. And I know it’s okay to do things wrong, but still, I can’t let myself do that. Again, I do fine when I’m at work and school. I’m functional, normal, you would never be able to tell how much is going on in my head. But in private, I may never speak again if I wasn’t spoken to.

When I was younger, around 12 or 13, I remember something a friend posted on my first online community. They posted, quite honestly, that they never wanted to meet anyone on there irl. No matter how close we are, it would never be the same IRL. I didn’t get that sentiment at the time. To me, why wouldn’t you want to see your friends everyday in person? That would be great. But I think I get it now. I’m afraid that if I ever met any of you someday it wouldn’t be the same. I’m not really the same in person. I’m bad at talking, bad at connecting. I’m not a proper person. But I feel like that’s okay. It’s okay to just exist on here as I am. While my friend was talking to me on our drive back to her place (we carpooled) she was telling me about her life. And she was apologizing like “oh I’m sorry I keep talking about myself” but quite honestly I was glad to just be able to listen. At some point my friend kept asking me what was up so I decided maybe I’ll tell them the arcane secrets of how I’ve been into guardian and how all the characters rlly hit for me for personal reasons. That was really the only thing I thought that was of note to tell her about. Really I don’t think I’ve done or felt much new since I last talked to her. But as I was trying to explain I just wasn’t doing it right. She just didn’t get it and trying to talk about something like that just made me embarrassed to the point where I just dropped it and tried to just say, “oh yea, you got it, that’s it.” and move along bc I didn’t think she’d get it. She’s the type that doesn’t really get how you can make meaningful connections online. So whenever I try to talk to her about certain things, it just doesn’t register. I’ve learned to choose my battles. I didn’t really think she wanted to get it. So I didn’t tell her. I tried telling her about stuff I liked in the past and I just always stop halfway through. I can’t communicate properly. I can’t speak in a way that I think is worthy of being heard. So I don’t talk. It frustrates me to no end. It feels like everyone else can do it so easily, that I’m the wrong one.

I had another friend from Uni message me about something and she was like “so what’s new with you, twin” (we have similar bdays and get along well so we call each other that) and tbh I just, didn’t know what to tell her. I had talked to her in a long time, so things had happened but nothing so easily said that I could just tell her over text. SO I just was like “work, school, yk how it is” and yea. I really am the one choosing not to let people in. It frustrates me to no end but I don’t know what a good starting point is ever. I feel like I should just send all my IRLS my long reflection essays next time they wanna know what's up. All the secrets to why I am the way I am are in there.

I’m scared of telling people how I feel about anything. IRL when I say something I often speak quietly, moreso like I’m only talking to myself. People often don’t hear what I had to say. And I don’t repeat myself. If it was something someone didn’t hear, in my head, that means that it wasn’t important enough to repeat. I’m afraid of talking and being misunderstood and never being able to be interpreted the way I mean. I want to convey all my thoughts correctly the first time. So i don’t repeat myself, not bc I’m mad at the person who didn’t hear me. It’s not about them, it’s about me. I don’t believe my words to be worth repeating. I don’t want anyone to stop the conversation for me. Just keep going, it won’t come out the right way anyways. I was taking a uquiz a week or so ago and one question was “what power do you want” and one option was smth like the power of comprehension. Which would make it so every time you spoke, that person would understand you the way you intended. That is the most ideal power for me to ever possess like it was unreal. I’m still thinking about that quiz. It was good.

I know that I’m worth being listened to and that my words are valuable enough to be heard but I don’t want to do that. I’d rather listen. I only like talking when it’s safe like it is here. I’m trying my best to get better though. I keep saying that I want to be a proper adult. I want to live right and without regrets and i really think communication is key to that. I’m trying. It’s hard but I’m trying. But still, I can only talk here a lot. I can’t talk any other way. I don’t tell my friends about my interests, it embarasses me to no end.

Being on here is comforting though. When I talk about stuff like this, I always see a lot more people than usual like my post. I feel like you can all relate. Really, people are more similar than not. We all have very similar burdens and pains and baggage. It’s comforting, I'm not alone. My words might be able to help someone. Because when all of you talk about the same things, i also feel seen and comforted and since we are so similar, then the same is true for the things I say.

But anyways, I did a lot of listening tonight, and it reflects the sentiment above. People are the same. I was listening to my friend’s friend talking about her mom earlier and the entire time, I really resonated with what she was saying. I got it. Her mom’s situation was really similar to my own mom’s situation in the past. And I was just amazed at how I barely knew this girl but I felt really similar to her. I saw her differently after learning all that. It was really a great thing. ANd on the way home, my friend was telling me about her life recently and some things andi really understand what she was going through. I didn’t say anything, because again, I don't like to interrupt. And when I try and be like ‘oh me too, it's the same for me too” I feel like I’m derailing. I know I’m not but I really think she needed to say her piece. So I let her. But the entire time, I thought about the things in my life that were the same as what she was feeling and it was beautiful. Life and human bonds are beautiful. Even when they are hard and messy and annoying, people all want the same things. They want to be loved and seen and understood. And in those moments when we feel seen, it’s worth more than any of those complicated feelings that come along with it. Not to be cheesy but wow… in order to reap the rewards of being loved, you really do need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known. I was glad I didn’t stay home watching a drama. I was glad that I went out. No matter how alienated I feel from others, there’s still merit in being around other people. No matter how much others may misunderstand you and annoy you, they are almost always worth more than being alone. That;s because deep down, we’re all the same.

I’m not good at reminding myself that. As I said here, I don’t let people see me. I don’t let people in, I’d rather keep them out. I’m a picky, boring person. I don’t like people easily and I don’t tell them much. I stay inside my own head and I don’t like to come out. I was raised that way. But people are worth it. Communication is worth it, no matter how hard. It’s all worth it. I need to try harder so I can be a person who is able to see and enjoy more beauty in this world. I spent my hr long drive home listening to music and ruminating on these thoughts, trying to plan out all the words I wanted to say here. I don’t think I said any of it right. I’m not satisfied with how I write nowadays. But writing, talking, conveying emotions, all of these things are worth doing. So no matter how crooked and awkward it comes out, I will keep doing it. It is my goal.

#🐌.txt #i wrote this last night bc i had a lot of thoughts driving home and the entire time i was out but they didnt translate well to type #i tried fixing it this morning and its still just off and im sock at reading it so into the void it goes #honestly i could make a playlist to describe my emotiona better at this point but ill never listen to those songs again.. ita just the like #uesterdays vibe #anyways good morning tho.. im gonna make a cup of coffee and take a shower now #i love u all im glad ur here

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lizparkcr · 4 years ago

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ok so im trying to avoid having emotions about the shitshow that is the local elections so i dont yknow breakdown and ive been meaning to make a post for ages abt muriel’s route i have so many thoughts. obvious spoilers ahead not that i have more than like 2 followers who play arcana game

firstly....i was kinda underwhelmed with the second half/ending of his route. disclaimer i haven’t replayed it and haven’t got the reversed ending, only upright, and my memory sucks and i played it a while ago. SO, things that I....don’t understand:

1. SUCH a massive deal is made out of muriel (and MC) having to learn to fight, the plot literally hinges on it, only for it to swing off the plot all together into oblivion and for the final showdown to be....a series of literal games.* And I wouldn’t disagree with this as an ending tbh!!!! I think it’s fucking great actually -- a non-violent resolution to further signify Muriel’s journey from violence and isolation to peace and fun and family, and tbh sort of a massive fuck you to lucio; LITERALLY RETURNING to the coliseum only to BEAT Lucio WITHOUT returning to the violence that lucio forced on him, turning it into a place of actual joy. Like fuck!! BUT with the whole first part it just doesn’t fucking fit lmao? Muriel could have faced his demons in the beginning without learning to fight at all, he still could have had that journey. Morga could have just traveled with them right? Or even better he could have refused to fight and then the ending would have been even better. We could have had a moment of Morga acknowledging their strength??? Acknowledging their non-violent victory WITH PRIDE??? Bringing her to reflect on her choices as a mother and a leader??? Devs why couldn’t we have had that :( I may be remembering wrong but the apparent necessity of Morga teaching them to fight is the biggest source of tension for at least a book. It’s the reason for his first kiss with the MC! Also yeah speaking of tension with Morga

2. SUCH a big deal is made out of morga becoming/reflecting as (?) a mother figure to muriel (which in itself is a very bold way to go story-wise)....only for her to be killed off. Again, I don’t disagree with this decision, I like her but story-wise it could fit. But I can’t help feel like it was really premature. This is something I feel all routes suffer from, and perhaps I am expecting too much from a game that can be played for free very easily, but every single route has pacing problems, none more than Muriel’s imo. Considering the maternal aspect of Morga (for both her and Muriel!) is sooooo fucking loaded and intense like, you cannot drop that and then kill her and not really mention her for the rest of the story. Her “ghost” made an appearance sometime later and a few sentences were said and that was it. Her and Muriel’s past was so brushed over and idk clearly they didn’t have the time or money or whatever to develop it which is a real shame. Their journeys could have run parallel or gone in opposite directions literally anything but Morga dying in a moment of weakness from a cheap trick by lucio :/ bc YEAH like that was not actually weakness but certainly what morga considers weakness!!! that mistake could have split her away from muriel+MC entirely OR brought them closer together. she could have been disgusted with herself and decided once and for all to let go of lucio as a son and go her own way to destroy him, or she could have woken up to what she can do differently now and work with Muriel and co and let go of lucio that way. idk man it was just a waste

Right then....onto the romance. or. lack of :( this is completely subjective, I know some people were v happy with it but like, this could not have been a drier route and im so fucking sad about it. There were definitely some sweet moments, but that was sort of it for me. I get what they were going for, but it’s personally sad to me that Muriel’s contentedness seems to have come at the expense of sensual intimacy/tension. like there was just absolutely no spice whatsoever. I saw someone describe the MC relationship as basically platonic and...yeah. Very little intimacy that wasn’t like, cuddling or holding hands, which since there wasn’t much to build on anyway just came across as nice but unexciting. It felt like it became too easy and too normal too quickly? Naturally touch was such a precious and important thing in the beginning as Muriel was learning to trust, but that just did not get explored imo. The first kiss wasn’t...the worst, but it was sort of OOC to me. They could have got so deep with that first kiss -- the opportunity, the trust, the choice. “Happy accident” scenarios can be great and definitely could have worked for his story, but for the first kiss i was like oh ok we’re here now?? and..muriel’s ok with that considering we were just uhh sobbing about his forced servitude and violence?? idk how i haven’t mentioned it yet but the way the tone was all over the fucking shop in that book gave me serious whiplash. Anyway it’s so disappointing bc c’monnnnn this whole relationship is brand new to BOTH mc and muriel. At the start every touch is a small turning point and i think they did that so well, you feel excited at the development and where it will go, but then it’s like “ok well we’re together now so everything is easy and breezy”. you can create emotional tension (the good kind) through touch EVEN if they’re both ace. which the MC is not bc its the self insert character so. yeah. i feel like im probably being a bit harsh in retrospect but this is what has stuck with me.

This leads me to Muriel himself, and what to me was the biggest opportunity to do blow everyone’s minds bc he was SUCH a mystery before his route. Dark and brooding but shy and caring, anti-social through anxiety and fear but lonely, his reluctant but consistent support of Asra and his friends. And that was all teased in the beginning! ....and then completely fell flat. Similar to my first point: they had some deep emotional development going, Muriel literally coming face to face with the past he never knew, and the past he wishes he could forget, learning to actually be around people, learning to trust people (and ngl i fucking loved the beginning stages with MC so much), and overcoming his anxiety and pessimism. He and MC literally travel together alone for weeks. WEEKS! And much of that is skipped by. We have big emotional scenes but not much in between. And then...and yknow im not sure where it changes...after khamgalai dies? (and dont get me started on that what the fuck was the point of THAT?) after MC goes to the arcane realms? I can’t remember but at some point it’s like...all tension is gone lmao. Including tension between MC and Muriel, and he becomes quite two dimensional. It was just rushed. Vesuvia is in ruins, Nadia and co chased out of the palace, Lucio taking control etc but like...it doesn’t feel like it matters? Im really not saying that his route has to be all doom and gloom at all but don’t MAKE it doom and gloom and then do a 180 yknow? I remember Julian’s route in particular being so fucking tense, even though I knew I got the upright ending, that dinner scene was...phew. (and i do get that naturally the first 3 routes are bound to be a more exciting experience bc i was less familiar w the game etc but still, there was just 0 tension).

im not even gonna talk about the MC’s past reveal bc i have issues with it in every route so whatever

so yeah i love muriel and i still like the arcana but it’s writing and pacing is just so inconsistent and it makes me sad. I will continue to fanon Muriel’s route to death.

*It’s occurred to me that the reversed ending may be more violent and actually fit with where the story seemed to be going in the start, but I stand by the opinion that it doesn’t matter because it still doesn’t make sense. I shouldn’t have to play the reverse ending to be like “oh ok that was the point of that” bc it should make sense and serve purpose in both endings, which i dont think it does.

#im absolutely not taggin this bc i dont want to be percieved by the devs lol #or muriel stans who love his route #these are just my onions #i really wanna replay asra's route tbh his was the best #i want that reversed CG so bad but dont wanna die for it #the arcana #this post is really long but it's 1:43am that's just how it is sometimes

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one-leaf-grimoire · 4 years ago

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“triad”

Chapter 10: the nightmare

Chapter ten, yay!!!!

Slight warnings: The main character goes through a LOT of self loathing, and has a brief suicidal thought. Also, there's like a slightly sensual implication... you'll see. Nothing too weird I just wanted to preface it with this warning.

AO3 link

“Preparations should be complete within a month. We’re gathering our best Spirit Guardians to train your Knights, and I promise that we will produce major results!”

The Heart Queen is a pretty young woman, who looks about as old as I do, her figure adorned in fine cloaks and medallions. A beauty spot beneath her lip completes her look in the most regal fashion possible. Seeing her sends a chill down my back, even though we only ever meet through a screen. The sight of the crown atop her head makes mine look a little lackluster in comparison. But none of that matters right now.

“Thank you, Lolopechka! You’ve really gone above and beyond for us.”

Lolopechka smiles gently out at me and shakes her head. “No, you’re the one who will be helping us.”

“We help each other… that’s what allies are for, right?” I smile up at her before turning to the others. All nine captains are here to listen to Lolopechka’s update. “In a month, please have some candidates in mind for the training. They should be the people with the most potential to move up to the 1st or 2nd stage.”

The stage system was a little confusing at first, but it didn’t take long for me to accept it as the best way to rank our magical abilities. My flame magic alone was close, if not already at stage 1. And my Dyad magic, of course, is Arcane. Arcane mages are those whose powers could probably defeat a devil already. But that’s not an excuse for me to slack off.

The worst outcome of this situation is that the Spade Kingdom defeats everyone we send at them. We have no idea about any of Megicula’s powers except the fact that it can set curses on people. If Megicula is much stronger than we realized, then our knights will have no defence against the unknown. I’m hoping to stay out of the actual fight and command from afar. But if Megicula and the Spade Kingdom come knocking at our door…

There’s a very real chance that I’ll have to fight it myself. While being seven months pregnant.

So… I need to be strong enough to survive that battle. It might be difficult, but I have to…

I pick my hand off of my stomach, where it had been laying all this time, as I stand up after the meeting ends.

For me… for Julius.

And that leads me to this moment, a moment I’ve been dreading this whole meeting. Each of the captains says goodbye, filing past me and out into the corridor. I smile and nod at each of them, but extend my arm to stop the last woman from passing.

“Dorothy… do you have a few moments?”

.… oh god… this is going to go badly, I already know it…

“Hmm? Yes, of course!” Dorothy stops in her tracks, bouncing a bit as she turns to look up at me. I’m not the tallest, but somehow I almost have to bend over to look her in the eye. The small witch has been awake for the last few meetings, a pleasant contrast to her usual slumber. She has a cheery, bubbly personality, and a smile that almost forces my anxiety out of my mind.

Almost.

“There’s… something I wanted to ask.”

…

Dorothy blinks up at me, her smile only fading slightly when she catches a glimpse of my worry through my face.

“Your dream magic… it allows you to create anything within your Glamour World, right?”

Oh god oh god.

This is going to sound bad, I know it. But I’m on my last straw. The meditation training has gone nowhere so far, only making me stress out more and feel hopeless.

“Yeah! Anything I want… I can even manifest things from your mind, if you go in there. Why do you ask? Do you need me to simulate something for you?”

I’m scared of the future. Not just for me, but for the Kingdom. Each day goes by smoothly, too smoothly, and gives me too much time to worry about the war looming on our horizon. People could die, my friends could die, civilians could die. If there’s any information about the Devils laying in the Simulcian’s past, I’m sure it will help us.

Because, I know… if anyone dies, it will be my fault. I’m the Wizard King, and I promised that I would protect this Kingdom with every ounce of my life.

Every… single ounce.

If my death leads to our victory… I will accept that.

“Can you… let me see Julius?”

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

Last night, Adeline and I stayed up late, trying our best to clear my head and sink into the meditative state I crave. As the hours passed, it got harder and harder, until I was afraid to close my eyes for even a moment.

“Maybe… I know why it’s been so hard for you.”

I can remember how it felt as she held me, my body giving out and exhausted. I wanted to cry, to let all my emotions out, but I couldn’t.

“My grief, right?”

Grief.

No, it’s something more than that. More than loss, more than emptiness. Something I don’t have words to describe. Yet, it’s a feeling that’s distinctly human. And maybe that’s why I can’t bring myself to emote, why I can’t let my emotions show. Because I’m not human.

Why… why did Julius leave this to me? His Kingdom full of humans, left to someone who will never truly care about the affairs of humans?

It was then that the tears started to fall.

How… how can you expect me to be selfless? How can you expect me to be able to protect them?

I want to protect them, I want nothing more than to die for them. To die just as Julius did, to save countless people and igraine myself as a martyr for all time.

But… I could never do that, right?

“I…

I hate myself.”

The words are sour in my mouth. Foreign. All my life, all I could ever feel towards myself was love. I loved myself, more than almost anything. But that was because Julius loved me, right? And his soul loved me too…

But now, that love has faded, extinguished from this world along with his life.

“I hate myself… I hate myself…”

I could hardly feel Adeline anymore, her words falling onto my deaf ears.

For a brief moment, I looked down, into the void. And it consumed me.

It’s a curse, right??? The Dyad’s curse. I flew too close to the sun, and got used to the warmth of its rays. And when I fell back to earth… there’s nothing but the cold.

Nothing. Not the Kingdom. Not Adeline. Not my friends. Not even the baby. And not myself.

I’m the worst… the most selfish person in this world. I stole this position from people who deserved it more than me.

I’ll never be able to be like Julius… never… never…

So… what’s the point?

Why even try, if there’s nothing to build even the foundation of hope upon.

“I… I want…”

I want to die-

Fortunately, those words don’t pass my lips. I just cry into Adeline’s shoulder as we sit on the floor of my bedroom. Julius’s cold, empty robe lays folded by my pillow like it always has.

“Grief is hard, I know that. I can’t even begin to imagine how it must feel.”

Adeline’s voice vibrates pleasantly through her chest as I lay my head against it.

“But… maybe what you need is closure. Do you have any idea how to get there?”

Closure…

Without closure, I’ll never be able to move on, and be strong for the Kingdom. The ultimate enemy I need to defeat isn’t Megicula; it’s me. If I can’t get over my weaknesses, I’ll never be able to protect anyone.

But how am I supposed to get closure.

If only… there was a way to talk to him again.

Wait…

There is a way.

Oh no…

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

“...what?!”

Dorothy’s eyes blow open wider in shock as my words sink in. She opens and closes her mouth a few times before coming to her senses. “I… I don’t know if that’s a good idea…”

“I know, I don’t think so either.” Embarrassed, I avert my eyes, feeling my chest start to tighten. “But… it might help.”

That’s right… for the good of the kingdom, I have to feel better. And if this has the slightest chance of making me feel better, I have to try it!

“Look…” I turn back towards her as I feel her dainty hand gently touch my arm. Dorothy’s cheery aura is gone, concern straining her eyes as she stares up at me. “It might make you feel worse.”

… I know that. But I don’t think I could feel any worse than I do now.

“Please… Dorothy…”

I look down at her with pleading eyes.

She stares up at me for a long moment, then lets out a defeated sigh. “Fine… but I’m not going in there with you.” She reaches down and takes out her Grimoire. “Is thirty minutes okay?”

I nod quickly, giving her a relieved smile. “Yes, that’s perfect… thank you so much.”

“My pleasure.” Something tells me that she doesn’t really mean that. Dorothy gives me one more look before clearing her throat. “Here we go… Dream Magic: Glamour World.”

A puff of mana, and the meeting room disappears. I blink my eyes a few times as the scene fades in. It’s whimsical, with clouds and sparkles of pink and purple floating through the air. “Wow… this is Glamour World?” I turn around in place, my feet standing firmly upon their own cloud. I’ve never seen this spell purposely, and am not entirely sure how it works. But this is a landscape created for me by Dorothy, specifically for me. And soon…

“Darling! There you are!”

Up until this point, I was nervous and anxious, yes, but also almost giddy at the thought of seeing Julius again. I was sure that seeing him would give me the closure I needed. If I had to, I could return to this place again and again, satiating my need for him even if it was a synthetic remedy. But the moment I hear that voice, his voice…

My blood runs cold.

Slowly, I turn around, and see a man walking towards me. Tall, blonde, handsome, with a smile that could light up an entire room. One that could light up an entire dark life.

And yet…

I can’t bring myself to smile, or even move, as Julius runs to my side, his arms immediately pulling me into a bone-crushing embrace. After a moment, I hesitantly hug back.

This is… wrong…

He pulls back to smile down at me. His eyes still sparkle like they did in life, his unbridled joy plain upon his face. I can’t even resist smiling back, even if I can feel my heart skinking.

Because, even if I can see him, and touch him… it’s not him. The only parts of Julius truly left on this world are a shard of a soul and a baby in my belly. This thing… it isn’t him.

“It’s been far too long…” He smiles gently, but it still breaks my heart. Julius’s hand comes up to cup my face. “You’re the Wizard King, right?”

I blink a few times, then nod slowly. Julius laughs heartily, his eyes closing for a moment. “Well, then, you have a lot to tell me! I want to hear all about it… but not now.”

There’s nothing I can do but stand there, petrified, as Julius leans in, his other arm snaking around my waist and pulling me closer.

“There’s so much that I want to do with you… now that we’re together again.”

Oh… Julius…

His lips hit mine in a hurried kiss, as if he knows this moment is fleeting, something that will never last, something that will just make the world even worse than it already is. But there’s no way he knows that; he’s just an illusion, a broken dream, despair disguised as hope.

This is…

The clouds turn dark purple, like the sky before a storm. The void grows a little bigger.

But despite that, I close my eyes, and cling to his body like it’s the only thing real in this world. I kiss him back with all my might, giving into my desire, into the temptation and selfishness that threatens to destroy everything.

... a nightmare.

“Darling?”

“Hmm?”

I open my eyes to see him staring down at me with worry. His thumb comes up and brushes something off my cheek; a tear.

“Are you alright?”

I can feel his skin against mine now. His heat. But it’s cold.

“Yeah… I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Julius… please… keep going.”

Twenty minutes later, and we still lay there together in the clouds. I still hold him, and he holds me.

This is just like every night we spent together… every night I slept in his arms, heard him snore away in his sleep. Forgotten sounds, sounds that echo like a curse in my soul…

“So… how is it? Being Wizard King?”

Julius is just making idle conversation, moving between subjects aimlessly. But the words Wizard King draw my attention. I look up to see him tilt his head to the side curiously, eager to hear. “Not as easy as it seems, hmm?”

“Yeah…”

Not as easy…

“It’s too much paperwork… not enough fighting! Although, I bet you’ll be doing plenty of that soon.” Julius giggles to himself. “But you’ll be great, I know it.”

“... I don’t know…”

“Hmm?” Julius frowns, his smile only fading slightly. “Why wouldn’t you? I picked you, didn’t I?” Julius reaches out and slides his hand over my head, a pat meant to be comforting, but I almost wince.

Only ten more minutes… I just want this to end.

“...you…”

Thick tears start to bubble up in my throat.

“...made a mistake… I…”

The volcano erupts. My hands desperately try to cover my shame as the tears fall, my body racking with sobs.

Fuck… FUCK THIS!

I want it to end. This nightmare- no- this life.

But I can’t… I’m trapped…

“Darling! Ah! What is it?! Mistake!?” Julius’s hands rub my shoulders as he frantically speaks, just as he always did in life. “My sweet, you’re not a mistake! You- AH, I’m sorry! This is something I said, right? Hey, look at me-” His hand tries to grab my chin and gently make me look at him. “How do I make this right-”

“You can’t!”

I bat his hand away and sit up, his face blurry through the veil of tears in my eyes. Anger, frustration, emptiness, it’s finally all coming out, every emotion I had been suppressing until now.

“You can’t make this right… you’re dead!” I cover my face again, not wanting to look at him right now. “You… you died, remember?! And that’s why I’m in this mess! You…” I clench my fist, my hands dropping to my shoulders so I can hug myself. “You died… and left me alone…”

It’s a curse… I’m all alone.

“Darling-”

It’s because of you… that I hate myself. Because…

“I’ll never be a good Wizard King… I don’t want to be a good Wizard King. I just- I can never do what you did, Julius.”

My nails start to dig into the flesh of my hand.

“Y-you… why...”

My voice weakens, then sharply erupts again with my next words.

“Why?! Why did you tell me that you loved me more than anything?! Why would you say that, then die for the Kingdom?!”

He loved me more than he loved the Kingdom, yet he sacrificed that love for it.

He can’t answer me. I know he can’t. He’s not Julius. He doesn’t have the answers. But I keep asking anyway, desperate to let the questions out and relieve myself of their frustrations.

Julius died… he didn’t have to die, but he did. He refused to kill Patri, he refused to save himself. A selfless act, and yet…

I can’t look at that act with anything but bitterness. Because now I know, I wish he had let it burn.

It doesn’t matter how many people died… it doesn’t matter who was hurt. All that matters is that we were together. Yet, he betrayed that promise… he betrayed me.

But he was right.

Julius had no choice but to die. He had no choice but to give up on his love, right? But the thing that makes me feel the worst…

“If I had been there… in your shoes…”

I would have done the selfish thing. I know it.

I take a deep, shuddering breath. It’s quiet.

“And now… because you’re gone… there’s nothing left for me.”

I relax my hand, looking down at my palm. Blood trickles out of the cuts I accidentally clenched into the skin.

“I… I wish I could have died with you.”

For some reason, saying those words…

It feels good.

I’m the Wizard King, yet I’m the most selfish person in the Kingdom.

That’s it… the thing I hate most about myself.

“This world is so empty without you… there’s nothing but the memory of your love.”

My voice starts to strengthen again. I let out a breath through my nose, and my eyes close.

“I… I want to destroy it.”

There…

“A world without you… I don’t want it to exist.”

The tears that flow now aren’t hot and angry. They’re cool… almost refreshing.

I said it… I admitted it…

“I want to destroy this world, along with this emptiness. I want to erase it all.”

The words hang in the air, no one around to hear but Julius’s image.

And somehow… I smile.

Why… nothing’s changed.

But… I said it.

Were those words weighing me down this whole time? Maybe, my obstacle was never my grief, but my self loathing, brought on by an annoying, intrusive thought.

I’m selfish… I know that. I’m not human. I know that. I’m evil…

No. There’s no such thing as evil.

And anyway… Julius knew all this about me. And… he still loved me.

For the first time, I feel a pulse of warmth from within me.

His soul… stirring.

“Darling…”

I feel a hand on my chin, and this time, I don’t resist. I let him draw my gaze back into his. My eyes widen a bit when I realize that he’s been smiling at me this whole time, a relieved, almost comforted smile, despite everything I just said.

“Do you really think… my love is that weak?”

“...huh?”

His eyes close for a moment, as if he’s amused by my confusion. “Listen… My love still exists in this world. And it’s so strong, it will linger for eternity.” His thumbs come up and start to wipe away more tears. “It’s out there… I promise.”

Julius leans in, one last time, as the scene starts to fade away and I’m drawn back into the real world.

Somehow… I know that I’ll be able to face it a little stronger than before.

Maybe this isn’t the closure of my grief. It’s closure for myself.

Because, what am I?

I’m not human… I don’t even know if I’m a simulcian.

I’m a soul, a soul whose ego has been shattered again and again. A girl who wants nothing more than to give in to the temptation of destruction.

But… now I know… despite that, Julius loved me more than anything. He died for duty, but his love lingers on.

“You just have to find it.”

I will…

I’ll find it, Julius.

And for the first time in weeks, hope blooms in my chest.

Next time!!! Chapter 11: the curse. A second decent into the Simulcian unconscious reveals something sinister: the Dyad's curse runs much deeper than anyone ever thought.

#triad #fic #ajfksdl #Lisa's self loathing is coming out-#black clover #oc: lisa #oc: adeline

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bataddictedloony · 1 month ago

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im ranting under cut

Like, I’m seeing an influx of people saying shit like ‘the ending to X was bullshit’ or ‘the ending to X was so bad’ for series with perfectly fine endings. And one can attribute that to people not knowing the difference between a bad ending and an ending they just don’t like.

Maybe it comes back to media illiteracy, cus i’m seeing a lot of people’s commentary that basically comes down to “you weren’t paying attention to the series, now the ending confuses you and that’s why you don’t like it.”

A lot of people’s commentary also just comes down to “my favourite character didn’t have a happy ending, therefore the writers are bad at their job.”

Like there’s some really ridiculous takes out there!

Don’t y’all think your fatigue with series endings is more likely due to series not being series anymore? You’re expecting movie-endings to series because series are just really long movies nowadays. So you’re spending a lot of your free time watching what feels like a really long movie and you don’t get your movie-esque ending. You don’t get everything nicely wrapped up, you don’t get all the solutions delivered on a platter, you have to keep nuance in mind and accept that not everything will get an answer, there’s 50 main characters and your unproblematic fav isn’t the one that gets a fully established resolution. Are you sure you’re not upset cus you feel like you wasted your time and you feel cheated?

And I can’t even fully blame you, OR the writers of a series! The landscape around series have changed drastically from even 10 years ago! Instead of having to wait a week for the next instalment, you can binge it all in one, maybe two sittings. What used to be 26 episodes per seasons, have now turned into 6-9 episodes for maybe a season or two. A cast of 5 main characters used to have a few full episodes each to be explored, over months and months of watching time; now they have half an episode for development inbetween plot. There so much media that needs to feed you bullshit so fast, it completely neglects nuance, reading between the lines, foreshadowing, show-don’t-tell, etc as parameters of good storytelling. People are losing the ability to all these skills, so that now when a show comes out, desperate to do some good goddamn storytelling, the audience is too - excuse my French - dumb to appreciate it!

The reason me, and a lot of other people, are so upset at shit like a HTTYD live action remake, Wish, Moana 2, etc, - shit that’s so transparently lazy - is because I can see them actively make people dumber! Why are there videos on yt talking about surface level details of Arcane as if none of us watched the show? Why are there people commenting that they actually missed major plotpoints from season 1, why aren’t you paying attention? These are the same people saying the ending is bullshit! How would you know?! Apparently you didn’t actually watch the show! Why are people complaining that there’s a lot of ACTUAL details they missed?! That’s the point, it’s a show you should be able to rewatch and discover new details! You know, like the Sixth Sense and Haunting of Hill House! Sometimes these things are really well thought out but people lack so much patience for Good Goddamn Storytelling, I’m not surprised writers all over the industry just want to give up!

On one hand you have competing movie-and-tv-makers just making whatever costs less but makes the most money, the lazier the better, the less they pay their artists the better. On the other hand you have people in the audience gobbling the cheap lazy shit like popcorn, never learning how to read between the lines or what the symbolism is behind blue curtains, and then getting upset when a moviemaker actually tries something new and inventive and smart and worthy of a good rewatch, because ‘why isn’t it like that thing i’ve seen a million times before but really like bc it doesn’t make me think hard!’

……..

And then there’s people who just wanna be contrarian. “If it’s popular, it’s probably actually not that good. I’m not like other girls blah blah blah”

Are endings to series getting worse or are audiences harder to please?

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thedinanshiral · 5 years ago

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Magic, mages and more

If you’ve played the Dragon Age series you’ve probably noticed some differences here and there. Origins was heavy on tactics, something Inquisition lacks considerably, and Dragon Age 2 allowed for blood magic, which Origins had little of and Inquisition barely mentions. All lore aside, we can experience magic in Thedas more closely through our mage companions in each game ( or your character if you chose the mage class).

First, i’ll discuss briefly how magic spells have changed throughout the games, then i’ll analyse a mage pattern and how it broke. And finally i’ll entertain some future over the top possibilities.

Origins and DA2 were designed primarily to be played on PC, and we see this more clearly on Origins through its tactics-heavy gameplay. Spells in Origins are more suitable to a carefully planned combat strategy, with passive and status-inducing spells presented in a variety that didn’t survive into the following games. DA2 also allows for tactics but the combat system is more dynamic, it’s not necessary to pause/unpause 5 times per second, one can do battles in real time and as a result spells were considerably reduced, prioritizing active/offensive spells, and almost entirely eliminating status-inducing and supportive spells.

Unlike its predecessors, Inquisition was way more console-friendly and all but eliminated the tactics system from Origins; now combat was fast, direct, with a tactical screen capable of basic commands and overall limited, and spell trees were reduced to the bare minimum, with elemental attacks, and very few defensive spells, having completely eliminated healing.

So, in short, summonings disappeared after Origins, as did most of the Creation, Spirit and Entropy trees. By Inquisition, none of the glyphs or hexes survived. Some spells icons from DA2 reappear in Inquisition, but most from Origins never made it past it, and some spells changed name or spell tree between games. There’s a gradual simplification of spell trees from one game to the next, adjusting combat to a more straightforward style, with less support or status-inducing spells and an increasing concentration of active spells with enhancing passive ones. On the other hand, Healing all but disappeared from Inquisition spells, “spirit healer” not even surviving as a specialization, with the only healing spell available being Revival which as the name implies you can only use on an already fallen party member. Surprisingly, Dispel made it through all three games staying in the same spell tree, Spirit, and elemental spells remained the same across all games, with minor changes.

Now let’s take a look at all our main mage companions.

In Origins we have Morrigan (apostate, shapeshifter), and Wynne (circle mage, spirit healer, vessel for spirit of Faith). In DA2 we have Merrill (dalish, blood mage), and Anders (former circle mage turned apostate, healer, vessel for spirit of Justice/Vengeance). In inquisition however we get three mages: Dorian (Tevinter pariah, pyromancer, necromancer), Vivienne (circle loyalist, icemancer, knight-enchanter) and Solas (apostate, electromancer,rift mage).

Just in case the pattern isn’t clear enough..In both games we get an apostate and formally educated and trained mage, a mage who lived in the wild and a mage who lived in cities, a mage who dwells in obscure or forbidden magic used for offense and a mage dedicated primarily to healing and support, a mage who deals in dangerous magic but remains their own and a mage who despite dealing in safer magic harbours a spirit within (by Chantry dogma, an abomination).

This pattern is broken in Inquisition; while we still get an apostate and a circle mage, we also get a mage that while not from the circle still isn’s technically an apostate (Dorian), we also get no healer but we do get a mage that specializes in obscure magic (necromancy), and we don’t really get a mage that has lived in the wild but one who’s lived outside of Thedosian society (Solas, being who he is and having recently woken up from the longest nap ever). And instead of getting a mage sharing their body with a spirit of the Fade, we get an ancient elf who secretely is an elvhen god and the creator of the Veil. Solas breaks the pattern (as well as everything else, apparently).

I’ll focus on Inquisition from now on and leave Solas for last.

Auto-level evidences the default element of choice of each mage. Solas is an electromancer, Dorian is a pyromancer, and Vivienne is an icemancer. Dorian preferring fire makes sense as a Tevinter who constantly complains the South is cold, implying his homeland has a warmer weather he sorely misses. Vivienne choosing cold spells goes perfectly with her personality, presenting herself as an ice queen.

Here is where it begins to get a bit tricky: Specializations.

Dorian’s is Necromancy, which would make a lot of sense...if he was Nevarran. Being a Tevinter it’d make more sense for him to be a Blood Mage. But Origins and particularly DA2 already exposed blood magic, painted it in all its evil colours, made it pretty clear it’s the wrong kind of magic to use for all the dangers it entails. By the time we get Inquisition, we face an actual Magister Siderial and Tevinter is painted as this degenerate empire full of evil blood mages, so getting a blood mage specialization was out of the table. Therefore our Tevinter ally got the next most questionable line of magic, necromancy. Because nothing says “almost evil” as raising up the death to fight for you and draining lifeforce from your enemies.

Next we have Vivienne who specialises as a Knight-Enchanter (KE). She’s a Circle mage, a Loyalist at that, and KE is a path reserved for Circle mages allowed to engage in combat when requested. But we learn from Solas that the powers used by Knight-Enchanters have their origin in the Arcane Warriors of the ancient elves. Vivienne has no known connection to anything elven, so her being able to become a KE is just another example of the cultural appropriation of elven elements and knowledge done by humans and the Chantry.

None of the specializations are entirely new, as already stated KE takes from Arcane Warriors, much of the Necromancer tree comes from the previous games’ Entropy trees, and the Primal and Force trees lend some spells to the supposedly brand new Rift tree.

Then there’s Solas, who is the default Rift Mage once specializations become available. The Rift spell tree is a post-Breach occurrence, as it was developed by mages studying the Breach and resulting rifts that appeared all over Thedas. It should have unique spells yet it recycles old ones: Stonefist no longer deals physical damage as it did in Origins and DA2 when it was in the Primal tree and meant hurling rocks at the enemy, but spirit damage as it now involves summoning a boulder directly from the Fade. Similarly, DA2’s Force spell Fist of the Maker and subsequent upgrades, Maker’s Hammer and Maker’s Fury, described as “slamming enemies into the ground” with some invisible force became Veilstrike in the Rift tree of Inquisition, there described as “smashing nearby foes to the ground” by “recreating your own fist from from the essence of the Fade”.

Knowing what we know about Solas, his specialization makes sense, he’s responsible for the Veil’s existence so of course he’d know how to manipulate its properties. He’s Fen’Harel, after all.

Still with me? Good, because this ride is about to get bumpy.

As the default Rift mage he can use Veilstrike, recreating his “own fist from the essence of the Fade”, but Veilstrike is actually a rename of Fist of the Maker…So what Solas is really doing whenever he casts Veilstrike is casting the Fist of the Maker. By recreating his own fist..It’s all in the name. Fist of the Maker pre-dates Rift magic, but its rebranding as Veilstrike is post-Breach and named after the Veil and not the Maker, possibly because the one who introduces us to this particular spell now is not Andrastian but the ancient elvhen god and creator of the Veil. Technically speaking we could say Solas, having created the Veil ages ago and therefore being the one responsible for the present reality of Thedas, is then, in a way, its maker. It’s a wild idea, I know, and there are some bits of lore scattered around that could support it, but i’m not jumping into that abyss yet-

In addition, let’s go back to his auto-leveled spells. At first sight there’s no basis for Solas being an electromancer. But like his Rift specialization, his magic preferences are lore/plot oriented. To consider:

Solas prefers the Storm tree. Skyhold is, by its very name, the place from where the Veil was installed. Some codices found at Skyhold mention electricity being used in unknown rituals at Skyhold’s location. Solas was responsible for creating the Veil.

With this in mind it can be concluded that Solas has always been an electromancer, and even used his electric powers in some way to help put up the Veil in the past.

tl;dr Solas was originally an electromancer and is a Rift Mage because he created the Veil and knows it better than anyone else. Also, he may be the Maker. (loljk or am i)

Now what would you say if I told you Solas possibly also does blood magic? Too much of a stretch? Maaaybe..Except maybe not. He’s not against it, thinks of it as simply a means to an end, and doesn’t disapprove of it unless it’s done in excess for all the wrong reasons (as they do in Tevinter) or is used to limit freedom like when used to bind unwilling spirits or control people’s minds. It’s just an idea, but there must be an explanation why blood magic and lyrium (titan blood, so, still blood magic) can be used to tear the Veil open. The Magisters did it before, and a second time when Corypheus sacrificed Divine Justinia in a ritual that also involved...Solas’ Foci. That is, Fen’ Harel’s Foci.

From Tevinter Nights we learn Solas is after the red lyrium idol (again, titan blood) which he claims belongs to him and is a necessary element for the ritual he must perform to take down the Veil. A ritual for which he’s willing to destroy Thedas as we know it, regrettably causing the dead of thousands. For all we know, those deaths are a necessary sacrifice because they are part of a massive blood magic ritual, Solas’ own death may also be part of it. If the blood of a Divine could be used to open the Breach, what could the blood of Fen’Harel be used for?? Solas’ new powers as Fen’Harel are, frankly, terrifying*, and he’s decided to do whatever it takes to see his mission through, sadly.

And all this leads me to future possibilities..we can imagine with Solas actively trying to take down the Veil there will be places where the Veil gets super thin or begins to disappear. Pockets of space where reality no longer respects natural laws of physics or logic. The Fade is fluid, ever changing, with the right power it can be reshaped at will and i imagine some of that may begin to leak into the physical world, so we may get mage (or spirit! )companions with skills capable of taking advantage of that.

Lastly, i may add, right now and as far as we can see, Solas is OP as fuck*. He can kill you in your sleep from within your dreams. He can turn you into stone with just thinking of it, which means in a way he can bend the laws of nature of the physical world like he can do in the Fade, If in the future we get close to him,if we get our hands on artifacts or intel.. it won’t because we gathered the right people and resources, it won’t be because of clever tactics and espionage, it won’t be at all because we did anything right. It’ll be because he allows it, because he let us get that far.

If we stop him at all it’ll be because he wants to be stopped.

(Apologies in advance if some of this is poorly written, i revised it so many times words no longer look like words. Also half of this is just wild speculation on my part and nobody has to agree with me, after 5 years i may be connecting imaginary dots but hey, it’s fun! If you read this far...i am so sorry, thanks)

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #solas #spoilers #tevinter nights #magic #fen'harel

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buzzdixonwriter · 4 years ago

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My Five Most Influential

Someone asked: Who are the most influential writers in your life?

Good question.

The broad answer is that one gets influenced many different ways by many different sources. I enjoy poetry and song lyrics because they find ways of conveying the strongest emotional content in the most concise manner, music brings a sense of dramatic rhythm and fulfillment, the visual arts suggest ways of subtly adding many insights to a single strong idea, etc., etc., and of course, etc. (and that is also an example of a creative influence in my work).

But…to boil it down to those whom I most consciously made an effort to emulate, we find ourselves facing five creators that primed the pump.

This is not to say others whom I began following after them didn’t wield a lot of influence (thanx, Ernie, Bert, Jack, Bob, and Hank!) but these are the foundation of everything I’ve done in my career.

(And to those who notice a lack of diversity, I know, I know…but to be honest I have to acknowledge the truth, and the truth is for whatever reason, by chance or by choice, by fate or by fortune, these five dominated my sensibilities. I trust that I’ve grown and expanded my horizons since then, but they’re the hand I got dealt.)

. . .

Carl Barks

I loved ducks as a kid and my grandmother and aunt would always bring me a passel of duck-related comics when they came to visit.

There were some Daffy Duck comics mixed in there but while I know I looked at and enjoyed them, none of them stick in my mind like the Donald Duck and Uncle Scrooge stories of Carl Barks.

Typically my grandmother would read these comics to me and I’d imprint the dialog and captions in my brain, replaying them as I looked at the pictures over and over again.

Barks never wrote down to his audience, and his stories covered a vast array of genres, everything from straight domestic comedy to oddball adventures to screwy crime stories.

Donald and his nephews encountered dinosaurs more than once (another big favorite of mine), and Uncle Scrooge setting out to explore the asteroid belt in order to find a new home for his fabulous money bin was another tale I loved literally to pieces, but A Christmas For Shacktown remains my all time favorite graphic novel.

I’ll concede there are better graphic novels, but none of them warm my heart the way that Christmas story does.

Barks showed it’s possible to combine heart (not to be confused with sentimentality or =yuch!= schmaltz), vivid characters, and strong, intricate narrative. His plots where typically filled with unexpected twists and turns but his characters were always deeply involved in them, not just along for the ride.

He’s one of the greatest storytellers in the 20th century, and his work remains timeless enough to last for several centuries to come.

. . .

Ray Bradbury

The first Ray Bradbury story I remember encountering was “Switch On The Night” in its 1955 edition, read to my kindergarten class towards the end of the school year.

This would place the event sometime in the spring of 1959.

“Switch On The Night” captivated me because it was the first story I’d ever heard that showed what could be seen in the dark that couldn’t be seen in the day.

Even as a child, it made me realize the night wasn’t scary, but contained wonders and insights we miss in the harsh glare of day.

I don’t recall if the kindergarten teacher told us the name of the author, and if she did it didn’t stick, but boy howdy, the story sure did! Did it open the doors of the night for me, or was I already inclined to be a night person and it simply confirmed that as a valid identity?

I dunno, but I’m typing this right now at 12:24am.

And the thoughts Bradbury planted in little Buzzy boy’s brain stayed and grew and flowered, as you can read in my poem, “The Magic Hours Of The Night”.

The next time I encountered Ray Bradbury’s writing was in grammar school, certainly no later than junior high. I was already interested in science fiction by that point, and had read “The Pedestrian” in one of my school English books (we weren’t taught the story in class; the teacher skipped over it for whatever reason but I read it anyway then re-read it and read it again and again).

Anthony Boucher’s ubiquitous 2-volume A Treasury Of Great Science Fiction was in my grammar school library and in it was Bradbury’s “Pillar Of Fire” (which I would later learn was one of his alternate Martian Chronicles and a crossover with Fahrenheit 451) and in that story he offered up a veritable laundry list of outré and outlandish fiction to be tracked down and read, authors to dig up and devour.

Oh, man, I was hooked.

So of course I began looking for all the stories and writers Bradbury listed in his short story but I also began looking for Bradbury’s own work and before you could say, “Mom, can I get a subscription to the Science Fiction Book Club?” I’d read The Golden Apples Of The Sun and A Medicine For Melancholy and R is For Rocket never once dreaming that at some point in the future the roadmap Ray plopped down in my lap would eventually lead to us being co-workers (separate projects, but the same studio at the same time) and friends.

There is a beautiful yet deceptive simplicity to Ray’s work, and even though he wrote his own book on writing (The Zen Of Writing) that has lots of good insights and professional tricks & tips, he himself wasn’t able to explain how he did it.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a good Ray Bradbury parody.

I’ve seen parodies that clearly are intended to evoke Ray Bradbury, but only in the same way a clumsy older relative might evoke Michael Jackson with a spasmodic movement one vaguely recognizes as a failed attempt at a moonwalk.

But, lordie, don’t think we didn’t try to emulate him, and while none of us fanboys ever came close, I think a lot of us did learn that less is more, that the right word carries more impact than a dozen paragraphs, and that there’s magic in even the most ordinary of things.

And of course I discovered the film and TV adaptations of his work, and in discovering them I also discovered that there are some things that just can’t be translated from one media to another, and that the light, effortless appeal of Ray’s work on the page (paper or pixel) can at best be recaptured with a good audio book reader but even the best dramatic adaptions -- even those by Ray himself -- are cold dead iron butterflies compared to the light and lively creatures flying about.

So eventually I stopped trying to write like him, and instead picked up the valuable lessons of mood and emotion making an impact on a story even if the plot didn’t make much logical sense.

Decades later I would become a fan of opera, and would learn the philosophy of all opera lovers: Opera doesn’t have to make logical sense, it just has to make emotional sense.

Ray Bradbury, opera meister.

. . .

H.P. Lovecraft

As noted above, Bradbury’s “Pillar Of Fire” tipped me to numerous other writers, first and foremost of which turned out to be Howard Phillips Lovecraft.

Okay, before we get any further into this, let’s acknowledge the woolly mammoth in the room: H.P. Lovecraft was a colossal asshat racist.

He was a lot of other terrible things, too, but racist is far and ahead of the rest of the pack.

It’s a disillusioning thing to find people one admired as a youngster or a teen later prove to have not just quirks and eccentricities and personal flaws, but genuinely destructive, harmful, and offensive characters.

I’ve posted on that before, too.

How I wish it were possible to retroactively scale back that hurtfulness, to make them more empathetic, less egregiously offensive (in the military sense of the word), but that ain’t so.

We have to acknowledge evil when we see it, and we have to call it out, and we have to shun it.

Which is hard when one of its practitioners provides a major influence in our creative lives.

Here’s what I liked about Lovecraft as a kid: He was the complete opposite of Ray Bradbury.

Bradbury’s instinctive genius was in finding the right word, the simple word that conveyed great impact on the story, drawing the reader into the most fantastic situations by making them seem more familiar on a visceral level.

Lovecraft achieved the exact opposite effect by finding the most arcane, bedizened, baroque, florid, grandiloquent, overwrought, rococo verbiage possible and slapping the reader repeatedly in the face with it.

If Bradbury made the unreal real, Lovecraft made the weird even more weirder.

And let’s give this devil his due: The Strange Case Of Charles Dexter Ward and The Dunwich Horror are two masterpieces of horror and serve as the bridge between Edgar Allen Poe and Stephen King, not to mention his creation of Cthulhu and other ancient entities existing beyond the ken of human knowledge…

…oh, wait, that’s where the story simultaneously gets messy yet provides a convenient escape hatch for fans.

While Lovecraft created Cthulhu, he did not create the Cthulhu Mythos.

That was primarily the invention August Derleth, a writer / editor / agent and H.P. Lovecraft’s #1 fanboy.

Lovecraft had some loosely related ideas in his stories and several themes he revisited repeatedly (in addition to racism).

He also had a circle of fellow writers -- including such heavy hitters as Robert “Psycho” Bloch and Robert E. “Conan” Howard -- who picked up on his ideas and, as way of a tribute, incorporated them in some of their stories.

Derleth took all this and Lovecraft’s unfinished manuscripts and short ideas he jotted down and turned it into a whole post-mortem industry, linking all of Lovecraft and other writers’ tales.

And he did a damn fine job of it, too.

So much so that the Cthulhu Mythos has taken on a life of its own, and pretty much anybody can play in that cosmic sandbox now (including Big Steve King and a ton of Japanese anime) and so Lovecraft’s works have an enormous influence on pop culture…

,,,but Howard hizzowndamsef can be -- and is -- cancelled.

Derleth and various biographers downplayed Lovecraft’s virulent racism for decades, and I don’t think Ray Bradbury was ever aware of the scope and tenor of Lovecraft’s bigotry when he name checked him in “Pillar Of Fire” and other stories.

In a similar vein Bradbury didn’t know -- because thanks again to overly protective literary executors, nobody knew -- just how big a racist asshat Walt Whitman was, either. It is one thing to call shenanigans on a Bill Cosby or a Harvey Weinstein or a Donald Trump because their egregious behaviors were noted long before they were held accountable, but quite another to do so on a creator who died while hiding their most awful behavior from thousands if not millions of fans who felt inspired and uplifted by their work.

It’s one thing to call out a contemporary bigot and not support them by not buying their work, it’s quite another when their bigotry has been shielded from view and fair minded, decent people have used their work to draw inspiration into their own creativity.

Of course, I had no way of knowing all this when I was in junior high and seriously began tracking down Lovecraft’s work.

He possessed a flair of the horrific and unearthly that to this day is hard to match (but easier to parody). He was a tremendous influence on my early writing (truth be told, I zigzagged between Bradbury’s stark simplicity and Lovecraft’s overarching verbosity, giving my early oeuvre a rather schizophrenic style) and the ideas he sparked still reverberate to this day.

If only he hadn’t been such a giant %#@&ing asshat racist …

. . .

Harlan Ellison

In a way, I’m glad neither Harlan nor his widow Susan are alive to read this.

I cherished Harlan as a friend and greatly admired his qualities as a writer.

But damn, by his own admission he should have been thrown in prison for aggravated assault on numerous occasions (he was courts martialed three times while in the Army).

We’re not talking about arguments that spiraled out of control until a few wild punches were thrown, we’re talking about Harlan by his own admission stalking and ambushing people, knocking them unconscious or causing grievous bodily harm.

We’re talking about sexual abuse and humiliation.

We’re talking about incidents he admitted to which if true put people in life threatening situations.

And yet ironically, in a certain sense Harlan (a bona fide Army Ranger, BTW) was like the U.S. Marine Corps: You’d never have a greater friend or a worse enemy.

I became dimly aware of Harlan in the late 1960s as I started diving deeper into literary sci-fi, transitioning from monster kid fandom to digests and paperbacks. Harlan first caught my attention with his macho prose (years later a similar style also drew me to Charles Bukowski) in stories like “Along the Scenic Route” (a.k.a. “Dogfight on 101”) in which Los Angelinos engaged in Mad Max motor mayhem but soon it became apparent the macho posturing was just a patina, that the heart and soul of much of the work reflected great sensitivity and often profound melancholy (ditto Bukowski).

Harlan was a fighter, and again by his own admission, he acknowledged in his later years that he was not a fighter because his cause was just, but rather sought out just causes because he knew he would be fighting regardless of his position, yet possessed a strong enough moral compass to point himself in the direction of a worthy enemy…

…most of the time.

He hurt and offended a large number of innocent and some not-so-innocent-but-certainly-not-evil people.

He also helped and encouraged a large number of others, people who had no idea who he was, people who had no way of adequately reciprocating his kindness and generosity.

He defended a lot of defenseless people.

He also mistakenly defended a lot of terrible people.

If someone tells me Harlan was a monster, I’ll agree: Monstre sacré.

What made his writing sacred was that no matter how outlandish the situation, Harlan dredged up from the depths emotions so strong as to be frightening in their depiction.

Skilled enough not to lose sight of humanity, outlandish enough to conjure up ideas and emotions most people would shy away from, Harlan hit adolescent Buzzy boy like an incendiary grenade.

Unlike my first three literary influences, Harlan was and remained active in the fannish circles where I was circulating at the time. He regularly wrote letters and columns for various fanzines, including a few I subscribed to.

In a literary sense he stood, naked and unashamed, in full view of the world, and that willingness to go beyond mundane sensibilities is what made his work so compelling.

He certainly fired me up as an adolescent writer, and proved an amalgam of Bradbury and Lovecraft that got my creative juices flowing in a coherent direction.

I don’t think I ever consciously tried to imitate him in my writing, but I sure learned from him, both in how to charge a story with emotion and how to fight for what’s right regardless of the blow back.

I loved him as a friend.

But, damn, Harlan…you could act so ugly...

. . .

H. Allen Smith

Who?

Most of you have never heard of H. Allen Smith, and that’s a damn shame.

I’d never heard of him either until I stumbled across a coverless remaindered copy of Poor H. Allen Smith’s Almanac in a Dollar General Store bin in Tennessee in the late 1960s (it was a memorable shopping expedition: I also purchased Thomas Heggen’s Mister Roberts and Let’s Kill Uncle by Rohan O'Grady [pen name of June Margaret O'Grady Skinner]).

Reading Smith’s editorial comments (in addition to his own essays and fiction he edited numerous humor anthologies) I realized I’d found a kindred soul.

Smith had a very conversational tone as a writer; his prose seemed off the cuff and unstructured, but he slyly used that style to hide the very peculiar (and often perverse) path he led readers down.

He sounded / read like a garrulous guy at the bar, one with a huge number of charming, witty (and delightfully inebriated) friends in addition to his own bottomless well of tall tales, pointed observations, and rude jokes.

Of all the writers mentioned above, that style is the one I most consciously tried to emulate, and one I seem to have been able to find my own voice in (several people have told me I write the same way I talk, a rarity among writers).

Smith was hilarious whether wearing an editor’s visor or a freelancer’s fool’s cap. If you know who H. L. Mencken was, think of Smith as a benign, better tempered version of that infamous curmudgeon (and if you don’t know, hie thee hence to Google and find out).

Compared to my other four influences, Smith didn’t need to add the fantastic to his fiction: The real world was weird and wacky and whimsical enough.

A newspaper man turned best selling author, Smith became among the most popular humorists of the 1940s-50s-60s…

…and then he died and everybody forgot him.

Part of the reason they forgot is that he wrote about things that no longer seem relevant (TV cowboys of the early television era, f’r instance, in Mr. Zip) or are today looked upon askance (and with justifiable reason; the ethnic humor in many of his anthologies may not have been intended as mean spirited, but it sure doesn’t read as a celebration of other cultures, viz his succinct account of an argument following a traffic accident between two native Honolulu cabbies rendered in pidgin: “Wassamatta you?” “’Wassmatta me’?!?!? Wassamatta you ‘Wassamatta me’? You wassamatta!”).

I’m sure I picked up a great many faults from Smith, but Smith also had the virtue of being willing and able to learn and to make an effort to be a better person today than he was yesterday, and better still tomorrow.

I’ve certainly tried applying that to my life.

Smith’s style was also invoked -- consciously or not -- by other writers and editors, notably Richard E. Geis, the editor of the legendary sci-fi semi-prozone, Science Fiction Review (among other titles). Smith died before I could meet him, but while I never met Dick Geis face to face we were pen pals for over 40 years.

Geis certainly sharpened specific aspects of my writing style, but the real underlying structure came from H. Allen Smith.

Smith’s work is hard to find today (in no small part because whenever I encounter one in the wild I snap it up) but I urge you to give him a try.

Just brace yourself for things we might consider incorrect today.

. . .

So there’s my top five.

With the exception of Carl Barks and Ray Bradbury, none of them are without serious flaw or blemish (though Smith seems like a decent enough sort despite his fondness for X-rated and ethnic humor).

In my defense as an impressionable child / teen, I was not aware of these flaws and blemishes when I first encountered their writing (primarily because in many cases efforts were made to hide or downplay those aspects).

The positive things I gleaned from them are not negated by the negative personal information that came out later.

I can, for the most part re the more problematic of them, appreciate their work while not endorsing their behavior.

Ellison can only be described in extremes, but his fire and passion -- when directed in a positive direction -- served as a torch to light new paths (his two original anthologies, Dangerous Visions and Again, Dangerous Visions, pretty much blew the doors off old school sci-fi and belatedly dragged the genre kicking and screaming into the 20th century).

Lovecraft I can effectively ignore while finding entertainment value in the Cthulhu Mythos.

But I must acknowledge this isn’t the same for everyone.

For example, as innocuous as I find H. Allen Smith, if a woman or a member of a minority group said, “I found this in particular to be offensive” I’d probably have to say, yeah, you’re right.

But I can still admire the way he did it, even if I can no longer fully support what he did.

. . .

By the time I reached high school, I’d acquired enough savvy to regard to literary finds a bit more dispassionately, appreciating what they did without trying to literally absorb it into my own writing.

I discovered for myself the Beat generation of writers and poets, the underground cartoonists of the late 60s and 70s, Ken Kesey, Joseph Heller, Philip K. Dick, Ursula K. LeGuin, and a host of others, some already alluded to.

Some, such as the Beats and Bukowski, I could enjoy for their warts and all honest self-reflection.

Yes, they were terrible people, but they knew they were terrible people, and they also knew there had to be something better, and while they may never have found the nirvana they sought, they at least sent back accurate reports of where they were in their journeys of exploration.

By my late teens, I’d become aware enough of human foibles and weaknesses -- every human’s foibles and weaknesses, including my own -- to be very, very cautious in regarding an individual as admirable.

While I will never accept creativity as an excuse for bad behavior, if a creator is honest enough and self-introspective enough to recognize and acknowledge their own failings, it goes a long way towards my being willing to enjoy their work without feeling I’m endorsing them as individuals.

It’s not my place to pass judgment or exoneration on others bad behavior.

It is my place to see that I don’t emulate others’ bad behavior.

Every creator is connected to their art, even if it’s by-the-numbers for-hire hack work.

Every creator puts something of themselves into the final product.

And every member of the audience must decide for themselves if that renders the final product too toxic to be enjoyed.

#how this writer's mind works #writing #Carl Barks #Ray Bradbury #HP Lovecraft #Harlan Ellison #H Allen Smith #influences

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overplannedbutunnamednpc · 5 years ago

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Jaded, Magic, Offspring, Vice for the alphabet one ... any characters you think are tasty but I would like to request that at least one be for Zephyr for development reasons (bonus if u want to make that be magic and talk abt her feelings on dunemancy as a controlled magic)

i’ll do all four for zephyr and also roll for others bc hehehe.........

Jaded: Do they buy into the “happily ever after” ideal? What’s their standard? Zephyr: not really??? I think growing up as an urchin kind of fucked that up even if she otherwise would. like, I’m sure the ideal in the kryn dynasty is what like. tbq and her wife have, with multiple lives and loving them through every one of them. but like. A) zephyr ain’t consecuted even if she says she is and B) she loves gent but that’s honestly probably her first real relationship and she kind of already knows that won’t end with a happily ever after because. she’s gonna still be in her elf twenties when gent dies. like, zephyrs actually kinda practical about this. she’s not gonna get a happily ever after with gent! she’s kinda accepted that even if she really doesn’t Like it. (and I’m very sad about it but that’s another post, elf lifetime meta included, if you want it). that said! she doesn’t think she won’t be happy! just that she’s smart enough to know that her relationships, such as they are, Will likely end in some pain for her, especially considering all the shit that comes along with a society with consecution. PC: Legacy - like. no? it feels ... cheap to her, I think. maybe it’s just me morgan not really believing in that stuff, but like. she grew up with nice parents who like. nothing was wrong with them of course! but like. she knows better, seeing them be in love with each other and fight and etc., she knows better than to think that anything could be happily ever after. she knows you gotta work at that shit, and I think she’s still figuring out how hard she’d want to work, if that makes sense. she does have a standard, though! she does want to fall in love or at least be infatuated/have someone be infatuated with her! it’s just an experience she wants. but considering her grandmother and her abilities... she kind of doubts she’ll ever be the prince OR princess in the fairytale, you know? NPC: Kiya - hh. Kiya knows better than to think happily ever after is in the cards. she’s got a pretty good thing going with MFU, she loves her employees, and I like the thot of her having a thing for one of them? but like. I’ve said it before: kiya isn’t really a ‘gets nice things for herself’ kind of person. so her standard is ‘it doesn’t happen in the first place.’ which is a little depressing, but hey! maybe she’ll be surprised.

Magic: In a magic series or not, are they accepting, or is each instance a shock? Zephyr: zephyr is a weird one because I like the idea of her being a little disbelieving that magic like. works for her, even though she’s a level 14 wizard with very specific knowledge of the arcane. I’m thinking about sir gentry and how he’s like, 50 years old by now or something. she didn’t look up the normal lifespan of a pet mouse until he was at least like. 10/15 because she just didn’t want to find out that he was about to die, and then she was kinda like ‘huh maybe... maybe he’s a magic mouse?’ (the in game explanation is that her dunamancy (time magic) is just. extending his life bc he hangs out with her and I think it’s cute and my dm loves me). but beyond that. I think it’s really fun if like. zephyr was NOT expecting to actually get into the academy? she made this whole plan expecting to at some point be found out but at least she’d have the knowledge, and then. She Wasn’t’? and she was obviously very happy that it worked!!! and I think she’s gotten more and more respect for her craft but it at least started as her going Wow alright this shit actually works? dope. now though I think she’s come to terms with it. she’s a level 14 wizard, she’s incredibly powerful really. magic for her is an extension of herself, to the point where she does it unconsciously (at least on sir gentry). she’s so skilled with dunamancy that she can just. choose to stop someone in time, five times a day. it’s exhausting, but she can just force a timeline on someone and have them be none the wiser. she’s Powerful, yo. and a lot of that power comes from sheer comfort with the subject, I think! I like that idea. PC: Zier - zier i think is very funny for this question because he like. JUST became a sorcerer and then levelled up super quickly in the span of like three or four months. but like. fundamentally, what happened was: 1. he ran away and got kidnapped and experimented on 2. he got away Somehow 3. he did magic at a giant spider 4. he ended up in another continent. so I think for him, it was surprising at first and he very much doesn’t know shit fuck all about magic, but he’s a noble boy through and through, and thus very quickly went “yeah i’m magical that fucks majorly because I fuck majorly.” it was basically him coming to terms with this new thing very quickly because he’s a bitch who likes the power. NPC: Coriander - coriander is the epitome of “is incredibly comfortable with magic.” for her, magic is essentially an assistive technology! she has darling who is basically a second pair of arms, legs, and an extra 8 feet of height so she can keep up with their partner and children who are much taller than she is. but I think a lot of the tech she develops is assistive or transportive in some way. coriander likes exploding things, but that’s more of a hobby. her actual magic works more like tech, and she treats it like a science.

Offspring: What kind of parent would they be? Would they prefer one, or multiple? Zephyr: much to think about.............. if she had kids I think she’d like multiple! she grew up completely alone so I think she’d want any kids to have siblings. as a parent I think she’d be good! i’ve been thinking about zephyr having very much Her People, who she likes, respects, and cares about to the point of fighting for and with them, and then Not Her People, who she kind of could give less of a shit about. her kids would def be Her People. she wouldn’t know exactly how to deal with them? I think for a bit there’d be a problem because she’d be stiff. she’d like her babies/kids very much! but she doesn’t know how to hold them. she doesn’t have experience talking to them. a baby cries and she tells it that theres nothing to cry over and logic at an infant doesn’t work and she goes bug eyed sasuke. but I think she’d figure it out eventually, and she’d be especially good at kids once they get to the “express their desires and disappointments in an understandable way.” perhaps she’d raise, on her own, very expressive kids because thats the only way they would be able to tell her what’s going on. PC: Sarril - :). he doesn’t know. but I think he would have been a good dad! his wife wanted multiple and so he would have had multiple, though he would have been very happy with only one. sarril was actively learning about Contact, so lots of hugs and holding for the babies and toddlers, especially with his wife and her family next to him. he’s always been a kind of calm and quiet man, and his way of showing love isn’t very Talkative, (i’ll talk about how he loves in another ask) so he’s more the dad who is At everything and is very quietly proud of everything his kid does, but unless there’s like, a crisis, he’s not likely to make it abundantly clear that he’s an adoring father. but you’d know from just like. he’s there, he’s tucking you in every night, he helps you with your homework, etc. NPC: Iris - iris wants kids SO BAD. she’d love one, she’d love multiple. part of being a part of a really terrible population crisis that may or may not be due to demonic influence, maybe, but she also just really wants kids. and she looked at cylthia and went “yeah alright we doing this?” I think iris with kids would be adoring almost to a fault. she’d LOVE those little bitches. she might spoil them rotten, but also they’d be super loved and have friends in all of glade and lent’s kids, and I think they’d eventually be cool.

Vice: What bad habits do they have? Is there something they would be ashamed of? Zephyr: shopaholic. i think a lot of her dresses come, if not free, at least steeply discounted because maybe she’s someone’s muse or maybe she did a huge favor for a dressmaker? haven’t decided yet. but definitely a lot of her paycheck (which I imagine she does get, from freelance jobs offering her wizarding services or maybe the dynasty pays her for the small wizard jobs like lighting the streets, bringing down and putting up and keeping up the night sky over rosohna, things like that) goes to dresses and accessories. she really likes spending money, and doesn’t mind so much about having it. I don’t think she’s ashamed of it, exactly? it’s her money, she’s spending it on things she likes. but it is probably indicative of Something. PC: Kenny - has a bad habit of being beholden to a god of fire who wants him to betray his friends. nah i think he’s got a bad habit of like now, scratching/rubbing soot off of himself. shit like that, where it’s a stimmy way of trying to get the ashen wolf’s influence off of him. he’s probably ashamed of it a little? because it’s the ashen wolf? but idk if it’s even really noticeable to others so that takes away a lot of the shame of it. NPC: Ecstasy - bad habits. of. not sharing her fucking feelings! she says thats STINKY but it kind of just fucks her over. like tbf with raini it kind of works because if she ever said she was in l*ve with raini the wizard might hightail it out of there but like. i think after two years she might have gotten away with it and didn’t even try. and now she’s kind of paying the price because not only does raini not remember her but it also doesn’t like, matter, maybe, because the feelings were ALWAYS unarticulated? so? she’s now just ????????

#syn-odics #zephyr #legacy #human kiya #zier #coriander #sarril #iris #kenny #ecstasy #this ones a beefy boy.......#enjoy...............#as i neglect to make any coherent sentences in my rambling about my ocs..............

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magicalgirlfumiko · 5 years ago

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2. An early OC I remember making

I am a loser nerd that has been on the RP scene since 2006 in various means. It really wasn’t until 2009 that I can say that I established a strong world setting and character feel. So I’ll just post two of my main characters from a science fantasy thing I should be writing on as a book but I don’t feel like it:

"We all have to endure crap. No matter the form it takes, no matter what species you may be, hardships come with the territory."

"When it all comes down to it, I'm just a brat who, having spent most of her life doing for others, just wants to live her own life and make her own choices and mistakes. WHO JUST WANTS TO HAVE FUN!"

"There are times I feel if I were to vocalize what really went through my head at times people would look at me much differently. With either awe or disgust or a combination of both. Heh."

"The biggest thing I've ever wanted out of life is to become a strong, ever-evolving person who is more than capable of following her curiosity, exploring and meeting head on whatever comes her way. I definitely have the fire inside of me to do so, but until recently...what I realize what I lacked most is a specific focus for all that energy."

GENERAL CHARACTER STATISTICS

Character Name: Skie JungbluthName Meaning: Simply from the English word sky, which was taken from the old Norse word for “cloud.”Alias: NoneGender: FemaleClan: AetherAge: 24B-Day: March 21Zodiac Sign: AriesPlace of Birth: Eternium, Zeledin

Current Residence: The airship, Ethereal (she did not wish to name it that. Skie lost a bet with her boyfriend Mel. It marks the only time she has ever lost one). Skie is almost always on her custom airship which serves as her main home since her 'assignments' take her all over the known world. As a result, most of Skie's work takes place on her ship.

Occupation: Smuggler, Aryeh's mentor. Professional Gambler.

School/Grade: Finished College

Family: Joshua Jungbluth (Father), Lassilsa Jungbluth (Mother), Bill Jungbluth (Brother)

Gemstone: Diamond

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS

Height: 167.64 cm

Hair: She has brown hair. Her curls help to soften her square face shape, while the long side-swept bangs bring the focus to those piercing yellow eyes. Skie keeps her hair shoulder length or just a little below. Before she became a smuggler, she often wore her hair long and flowing just like her mother but has shortened it to be look less like a kid in her mind's eye.

Eyes: Yellow and catlike. The reason for this is because of her usage of arcane magic. Unlike Rane, who used external energy from others, Skie is attempting the same kind of mysteries but at the cost to her own body.

Distinguishing Marks: None

General Appearance: Skie’s eyes are usually sharp, alert and often almond shaped. She typically flushes when she feels excited. When Skie hears good news, red color will flood her face. Angry: You can always tell when she is truly angry because she will turn quite red. She also flushes when she is embarrassed or when she over exerts herself such as when exercising. She is handsome and she knows it. Skie is powerfully built but still has a womanly body.

General Clothing: Skie likes to dress classy but comfortably. Her normal wears are a white button shirt, a brown waist length jacket, black slacks, and sometimes a tie. In colder weather, she wears her father’s old brown leather trench coat which is held shut by short leather tabs.

Strengths: Skie is very adept with Aether magic. This is the power from WITHIN. It is based upon the soul, the powers that are deep within the essence of who you are. The lesser known of the styles, Aether powers are often channeled through emotions and desires.

As a swordsman, Skie's abilities are lackluster; however, those around her have noted that her fighting style, however unrefined, is heavy hitting and vicious. As it turns out, Skie's style and progress mirror that of her father.

Weaknesses: The weakness of her magical style is that it comes completely from her own body, so if she is injured or drugged or unconscious, those powers can be interrupted. It is also based upon strong desires, so her emotions must be in tune with what she wants. One of the fundamental issues with her is that she literally has a well of power inside herself. She has to constantly use magic to prevent too much from building up inside her at once.

Skie is prone to have headaches, particularly migraines, and depression because of these powers.

More: Weight: 51 kg, Breast: 81 cm, Waist: 53 cm, Hips: 84 cm

MENTAL CHARACTERISTICS

Allies: Mel and Aryeh. Skie is a good friend, she always looks out for her friends with caring and generosity and will protect them should the need arise and encourage them with her natural optimism.

Enemies: Medus and the Yellow Brother's are her main rivals, but Rane is the bigger danger.

Current Goal/Purpose: She is sent out to find Medus by her brother. He has promised her a lot of money to do so.

Aspirations: She wants to succeed where others have failed. Skie wants to explore the world, change it to fit her whims and do her best at life.

Hobbies: Skie likes activities that involve mobility and less concentration like war games, fast sports, motor racing, gambling, and vibrant music. However, she also likes to grill and come up with meals.

Likes: Action, Coming in first, Challenges, Championing Causes, and Spontaneity

Dislikes: Waiting Around, Admitting Failure, No opposition, Tyranny, other people’s advice

Talents: She’s skilled at games of chance. Skie is also skilled with fixing up and redesigning airships.

Inabilities: Selfish and quick-tempered, Impulsive and impatient, Foolhardy and daredevil, if confronted, Skie can turn to be quite childish; she will fight back with her aggressive nature.

Fears: Feeling that her identity is threatened. Self-preservation is a primal instinct and goal for her.

General Personality: Skie loves to explore new ground. She reminds her friends that every moment is new and that life is about experimentation and discovery. It is through experiences that we develop and mature. We are here to advance our soul growth. We are not here to find a static, comfortable situation. We are here to go for the gold and to answer the call of our soul. We are engaged in an on-going process to release our resistance and to transmute all forms of fear into courage and compassion.

Skie is a courageous leader with a genuine concern for those she commands. Being a responsible lady, it is rare that she will use her subordinates to obtain her own objectives as a leader, but occasionally it does happen. She does not make a very good follower because she is too "taking charge".

Skie may be unwilling to obey or submit to directions for which she can see no reason, or with which she disagrees. She is much concerned with self, both positively and negatively - self-reliant but also self centered (sometimes) and concerned with her own personal advancement and physical satisfaction. Her immense energy makes her aggressive and restless, argumentative occasionally, headstrong, quick tempered, easily offended and capable of holding grudges if she feels affronted.

Skie is intellectual and objective, but can be in rare situations bigoted and extremist in politics. She is a champion of lost causes and last-ditch resistance.

Inner Personality: Skie is quick-witted but sometimes foolhardy and over-optimistic, lacking thoroughness and the ability to evaluate difficulties regarding the undertakings into which she often rushes impulsively. The great need of Skie is to exercise an iron self-control, to discipline the qualities and tendencies of her character to the advantage, not the detriment, of the society in which she moves.

Fondest Memory: Winning all the money out of the casinos that are present in Eternium.

Biggest Regret: None so far, she has lived a pretty good life so far and rarely decides to focus on the past.

Secret: She also loves the color pink.

SPECIALTY CHARACTERISTICS

Special Items: The Ivory Cross that Skie wears. It is the symbol used on Chenoan flags. This is used to show her support of the Chenoan cause against Rane.

Magic: Aether Lightning, Skie’s only usable combat spell as an arcane magus. Raw Aether magic arcs from her hands as lightning allowing limited ranged combat capabilities.

HISTORIC BACKGROUND

General History: Skie's upbringing was fairly typical for an upper middle class family in post-war Zeledin. After the Zeledin War, her father stayed out of the limelight. While Joshua was one of the founders of the Category following Rane's disappearance, he never sought a lot of personal wealth. He believed that it was better for his children to grow up modestly. When she was younger, it never crossed her mind that she’s the daughter of Joshua Jungbluth. Most of her childhood she moved around a lot since Lassilsa didn’t want to stay in the former capital of her queen. Skie and her brother didn’t get along even from this early age.

Lassilsa was her main teacher, since Joshua himself never mastered any magical abilities. Like her father, Skie’s genes were “overspecialized” with a connection to Aether. Thus, with her magical prowess in aether magic allowed her to attend the Eternium Military Academy. At age 22, she graduated with Study in Arcane magic. It was attending the school that she became close friends with Mel Rogero. They have been dating ever since.

Shortly after her graduation, Skie enlisted into the Category's AeroCorps, in Zeldin's capital city of Eternium. She wished to distance herself from the legacy of her father while enlisted, so she was made a junior officer on the CAC Drake. It was an unremarkable time for her on the airship. Her time in the military was very short. She was kicked out for being too hot headed.

At age 24, Skie left the AeroCorps and enlisted herself to be an aging bounty hunter. He gave her a new task; being a pilot and mentor figure. Her new role was to train Ary Fairwater in Arcane studies, which puzzled her. She dislikes being a teacher and doesn’t want a teen getting in her way. To this day she continues to indirectly train Ary. Though, it seems that it is Mel that does a lot of the mentoring.

Skie was recently hired by her brother to force Medus Tenpenny into the Category's Elite Unit. In response, Mel Rogero was hired to be her bodyguard by Lassie. Skie is more than aware that The Category might have plans to make Medus their trump card when they finally intervene on the war between Chenoa and Rane's forces.

Why not? One's gotta feel confident in a uniform."

"Because Skie is amazing. She has been putting in so much hard work and it payed off big time. It doesn't matter if she's not considered a "real" magus by Category standards. She is amazing as her own kinda woman."

"Once, I had a fortune told to me and usually I never take them into thought...This one I did. It said,"Greet your friends with open arms and happiness will come to you." I seriously sat there, frozen while reading it. I took it as, I should stop being so distant and accept my friends...Bring them back into my life, even if I'm not with them. I hope I can though."

"Don't you hate when you really want to say something,but don't know what?"

GENERAL CHARACTER STATISTICS

Character Name: Mel RogeroName Meaning: Mel is a pet name of Maethelwine, which means “Meeting Friend.”Alias: NoneGender: Male

Age: 25B-Day: 2/26Zodiac Sign: PiscesPlace of Birth:ChenoaCurrent Residence: Skie’s AirshipOccupation: Skie’s Body Guard. Seat of Water, Unit ZeroSchool/Grade: Finished High SchoolFamily: MJ Rogero (Sister). Other relatives not mentioned.Gemstone: Moonstone

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS

Height: 180 cm (5’11”)

Hair: Mel wears his black hair (almost violet) really long, which is considered the sign of an unmarried warrior in the Moon Clan. It is kept braided by white wraps.

Eyes: Blue

Distinguishing Marks: He wears one beaded earring in his left ear.

General Appearance: Mel is a gentlemen and not sloppy in his overall appearance.

General Clothing: Mel loves the color black and wears a military inspired tunic and trousers. When not in combat, he wears a purple cape to add to the ensemble, the sign of his family. This has more to do with tradition than anything else. Since Mel is the only male son in his family, it suggests that he’ll inherit the title of his father someday. It also keeps him warm in the colder regions of Mirabella.

Strengths: Some think of him as weak because, like water, he takes the path of least resistance. But by flowing on, resisting nothing, Mel overcomes all and his freedom from self (his greatest secret strength) provides him with limitless access to imagination (his second greatest secret strength). His emotions are known to guide his heart and his mind. Mel possesses a great trait that allows him to come in contact with a variety of emotions and not pass judgment on an individual.

Weaknesses: Mel does not have many combatant spells, since he put most of his focus on using overclock and natural smarts. Mel is also very meek, while this could also be considered a merit; Mel cannot take the life of an enemy, for he is a very religious follower of the Moon Goddess.

MENTAL CHARACTERISTICS

Allies: The Category

Enemies: None.

Current Goal/Purpose: Mel is Skie’s bodyguard and boyfriend. He is a man who enjoys helping and serving others. Mel is very observant and examines each person and situation closely. He is a dreamer, which allows him to relate intimately to Skie. Mel gives to her, a certain peace and security. He always tries to avoid all possible arguments with her.

According to Ivy Veyado, Mel makes Skie more docile and convenient. He shields her against her enemies and is able to pacify her fears and give her the emotional security she needs. Mel often possesses the fiery command and gentle nature which makes a perfect blend to keep her satisfied and affectionate.

Aspirations: To help everyone he meets to the best of his ability.

Hobbies: Mel finds infinite pleasure in the simple things, like the smile of a stranger, the touch of a child, or the tweet of a bird as it feathers its nest. Mel likes telling stories, painting, cooking, watching good cinema, and collects clothes from foreign nations.

Likes: Solitude to dream in, mystery in all its guises, anything discarded to stay discarded, the ridiculous, likes to get 'lost'

Dislikes: The obvious, being criticized, feeling all at sea about something, know-it-alls, and pedantry.

Talents: Healing magics, cooking, making tea, etc.

Inabilities: Escapist and idealistic, secretive and vague. Can sometimes be bossed around by Skie.

Fears: Upheavals are abhorrent to Mel, and stay with him for days but, it is not always understood, that he absorbs all kinds of atmospheres like a sponge and, just as the power of the sea takes time to settle after a storm, so Mel needs to be allowed time and space alone, to recover his inner calm.

General Personality: Mel possesses a gentle, patient, malleable nature. He has many generous qualities and is friendly, He is good natured, kind and compassionate, sensitive to the feelings of those around him, and responds with the utmost sympathy and tact to any suffering he encounters. Mel is deservedly popular with all kinds of people, partly because his easygoing, affectionate, submissive nature offers no threat or challenge to stronger and more exuberant characters.

He accepts the people around him and the circumstances in which he finds himself rather than trying to adapt them. Mel patiently waits for problems to sort themselves out rather than take the initiative in solving them. He is more readily concerned with the problems of Skie than with his own.

His nature tends to be too otherworldly for the practical purposes of living in this world as it is. He sometimes exists emotionally rather than rationally, instinctively more than intellectually. Mel longs to be recognized as greatly creative. Any rebellion he makes against convention is personal; however, as he often times does not have the energy or motivation to battle against the Establishment.

Inner Personality: Mel has an intuitive and psychic ability more than any other character in the series. He trusts his gut feelings and if he does not, he quickly learns to because he realizes that his hunches are usually correct.

Mel’s downfall is his sensitivity and his inability to reject another person. He does not like rejection and se tries to treat others the way they want to be treated so he will rarely say no to a person for fear of hurting their feelings.

He will help another person with their problems and like to do so because making others feel good in turn makes him feel good.

His inner conflict is extremes of temperament and conflicting emotions. He wants to learn to use his powers and his imagination in a positive, productive way.

Fondest Memory: He has many. But in reality, his fondest memories always involve spending time with Skie and making sure that she is always smiling.

Biggest Regret: He has a tendency to act like a “savior” and these are a number of times in which he was not able to help everyone that he deems needed his help.

Secret: Mel loves Skie with all his heart and secretly wishes to marry her someday. She is one of the few people who have faith in his dreams. His qualities create an excitement within her and she respects Mel whole-heartedly. To him, Skie has enough fire to spark his desires and lead him to great accomplishments, and give him the faith he needs to stand for dreams and wishes. She has always fiercely defends him in the past against those who judge him inaccurately due to his dreamy nature. She brings excitement and vigor to his life and teaches him to be a bit more practical.

SPECIALTY CHARACTERISTICS

Special Items: The Purple cloak that he is often seen wearing. It is a sign that he is from a long family of knights that work for the crown family of Chenoa. While this is more of a honorary role in the present, he is still proud of his background.

Weapons: A blade for back-up. Mel is a technical pacifist; meaning he is willing to beat people up as much as he wants. He may even get a few fatalities through. However, once it comes down to a choice between killing and not an opponent, Mel will not kill. He uses his sword in non-lethal ways to defeat his foes and to defend Skie.

Whip of the Rip Tide: A whip forged from the strongest batch of ather ever found thus far, it is a Class A weapon that is capable of causing major flooding and water spouts. It is a highly dangerous weapon that only Mel can wield with proper effect. It can also be used as a normal whip or lasso.

Magic: Mel’s magic is focused on using Overclock as his main area of study. In this case, he can separate the processes of his brain and excels at multitasking on things like paperwork and cooking. This is how he is able to use his sword effectively.

Mel does have access to using the powers of Dark Flames, which are a purple flames that extend from his palms and quickly engulfs foes in a cold binding chain. Mel’s other magic includes portal openings and displacements of weapons.

The common belief is that no one can best Mel in non-lethal combat.

HISTORIC BACKGROUND

General History: Mel is the youngest child in his family. His mother went out of her way to spoil him and make sure he excelled at something other than the normal soldiery activities of the Rogero family. Though, in the end he still chose the mantle of being a knight.

Being a member of Chenoa’s court, he had access to many of the best schools in the nation. There Mel learned all the trades to be a Knight in the royal court. However, he soon decided that he’d be better off working within the Category, since Chenoa didn’t have all the fun of the modern world like Zeldin did.

After finishing up his basic schooling, he went on to the Military Academy. During his time off, Mel would wander around the city day dreaming. It was on one of these walks that he first met Skie following one of her storming off from her barracks. She was a very different girl from the ones in Chenoa. One could almost say that she was exotic to him. .

Mel would then become an acquaintance of Lassi, Skie’s mother. Lassi’s goal was to attempt to get them to become a couple. Her greatest fear is that Skie will die a soldier. When Skie left the military, Lassi requested that her daughter be barred from Unit Zero. Skie was then recommended to become a mentor, a job not suited for her fiery spirit. Knowing that her daughter might try to run off and doing something foolish, Lassi has hired Mel to be her bodyguard. Mel was more than happy to take the assignment. While still very shy to Skie, they have known each other for a long enough time that he feels that he can get closer to her this way.

#meme #ooc #thx-memorabilia

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duhragonball · 6 years ago

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[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (89/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation. This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

Previous chapters conveniently available here.

[25 May 234 Before Age. Planet Pflaume.]

Luffa was trapped in Pflaume City. The entire population had been evacuated before her arrival, taking every space-worthy vehicle with them. Beyond the city's outer hull was the deadly atmosphere of the planet Pflaume, an ice giant incapable of supporting carbon-based life forms. For the time being, it seemed the only safe way out of the city was a transpatial portal controlled by the Saiyan King Rehval, and he would not share that passage until Luffa heard him out.

To that end, King Rehval had created a mystic projection of himself, so that he could speak with Luffa directly while simultaneously hiding somewhere in the city. With no other alternative, Luffa began walking through the parkland of Pflaume City's uppermost level. The arcane image of Rehval floated alongside her as she moved, though Rehval himself remained seated upon a stone bench, accompanied by his attendant, Pozet.

"You've gone to a lot of trouble to arrange all of this," Luffa said. "First you created that twisted imitation of my wife, and sent her to murder our own people. Then you convinced me to help you track down the killer, only you left the planet right before we were supposed to make our move. I figured out you were trying to trick me, and followed you here, only to find it was a trap. Only instead of killing me, you want me to listen to your speeches."

"Not a speech, Luffa," Rehval said. "A parlay. You consider me an enemy, and you have good reason not to trust me, but the Saiyan race depends upon a lasting peace between us."

"Then destroy this city," Luffa said. "Even I can't survive out there, and you have the means to return to Planet Saiya. There's your peace."

"I don't want to kill you, Luffa," Rehval said solemnly.

"But you tried!" Luffa shot back. "A couple of years ago, you sent a band of your soldiers to hunt me down. When we first met, you tried to blame that on your father, but today you say that you were the one ruling from the shadows."

"I sent those warriors to take your measure," Rehval explained. "When you first emerged as a Super Saiyan, I only had rumors and speculation to work with. For a time, I was willing to wait and see, but then you founded the Federation, and by then the accounts of your powers were beginning to approach a consensus. I ordered my soldiers to kill you, but in fact it was just a test to see if they could. When none of them survived, I had my answer, and so I put my plan into motion."

"Think about it, Luffa," Pozet said with a cheerful smile. "Those goons never stood a chance against you, so you can't really be that upset over it, can you?"

"That's not it at all," Rehval said to Pozet. "What upsets Luffa is that I would send ten of my loyal warriors to die for nothing. She's upset that I would create you as a living weapon to assassinate my own subjects."

"Oh, right," Pozet said. "The whole compassion thing. She's so unlike the rest of you Saiyans, master. I have to admit, it's very captivating."

"You talk a lot about the good of the Saiyan race, Rehval," Luffa said, ignoring Pozet completely. "But all I ever see is Saiyans getting slaughtered like livestock to further your schemes. I ran into your little 'Honor Guard' on Planet Saiya. They're all dead now. I don't know what you did to those poor bastards, but at least they're finally free of you."

"Means to an end, Luffa," Rehval said. "Maybe you can afford to worry about individual Saiyans, but I have to consider the future of our entire species. I used the Honor Guard to help me keep our people united."

"United as what?" Luffa demanded. "Your mindless slaves?"

"If that's what it takes, then yes!" Rehval said. My grandfather ruled with an iron fist, because he knew he had to do whatever it took to keep that first generation under control. Their descendants would grow up in the kingdom he created, and each new generation would be more accepting of the monarchy."

"And you want me to help you control them," Luffa concluded.

"I want you to become my queen," Rehval replied.

Luffa stopped dead in her tracks.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said.

"This is about more than a political alliance, Luffa," Rehval said. "The alchemical arts have shown me ways to study the history of our race in ways you could hardly imagine. To an extent, I can even chart our future. I don't have all the answers, but I do know that our survival depends upon overcoming the Saiyan wanderlust. Our population has to work together as a united people, or we can never move forward. The Rehval dynasty works, Luffa. It would have worked for other kings in the past, except for one thing. One unavoidable refrain in Saiyan history: you."

"Me," Luffa said.

"Once, I thought the stories of the old heroes were exaggerations at best. But as I looked into my scrying pool, I learned that the strongest of them each made a profound impact on the course of history, and not always for the better. Many of them overthrew whatever government the Saiyans happened to be ruled under at the time. Some of the old heroes were liberators, some were tyrants, others were revolutionaries. You've heard of Yamoshi, haven't you?"

"The God-Saiyan?" Luffa said. "What about him?"

"He was the first," Rehval said. "Or at least, the oldest of the line that I could find with my alchemy. "From him, the lineage of the old heroes began. Yamoshi tried to destroy the Saiyan order of his day. He failed, but the boldness of his attempt reverberated throughout history. Through Asparaj, through Darbock, then Chanisp, and now you."

"If you're so worried about me screwing up your precious plans, then why am I still alive?" Luffa asked.

"You're not listening to me," Rehval said. "Yamoshi's enemies killed him. A thousand years later, another invincible Saiyan arose. Perhaps he agreed with Yamoshi's philosophies, perhaps not. But he was influenced by Yamoshi's life, one way or another. Yamoshi wasn't simply a powerful being. He was a legend. Killing him didn't prevent him from changing the course of history. Yamoshi's enemies may have solved their immediate problems by killing him, but my agenda deals in centuries, not years. With you, I have to be very careful."

"Then it's the next Super Saiyan you're really worried about," Luffa said. "No matter what you do to deal with me, the next Super Saiyan might still upset all your dumb plans."

"Once, I had hoped that if the old heroes weren't a myth, that I might have been one of them," Rehval admitted. "When I discovered the pattern, I dared to hope that the only living Saiyan powerful enough to alter destiny was me. The timing was about right-- it's been about one thousand years since Chanisp's era-- and no one else seemed to fit. But when you emerged, I realized how badly I had miscalculated. I never dreamed that there was a sudden transformation, but in hindsight, it makes a lot of sense."

He stood up, and approached Luffa, until he would have been close enough to touch her, if he had truly been there. Luffa could hear his breath, but couldn't feel it, even though his lips were only inches away from her own.

"This has been the fundamental conflict that defines Saiyan history, Luffa," he said as he pointed to her and back to himself. "There are Saiyans like you, who have greatness thrust upon them, and then there are Saiyans like me, who strive to achieve greatness. The Rehvals of history, we gather power and influence any way we can. Our goals and agendas may vary, but we've all tried to build something out of the Saiyan people. And then, out of nowhere, you Luffas spring up to threaten it all."

He suddenly clapped his hands together and gripped them tightly with his fingers. "The conflict is inevitable. We're Saiyans, after all. And we can't help but be natural rivals. You resent my 'honorless' rise to power, and I see you as an outsider beyond my control. So we do battle, like all the other Rehvals and Luffas before us, and Saiyan civilization is decimated in the struggle. The survivors spend the next millennia rebuilding from the chaos, and then another Rehval and Luffa emerge, and it all crashes down again."

"You make it sound so inevitable," Luffa said. "Like we don't have a choice."

"But we do!" Rehval exclaimed. He turned away from Luffa and began waving his hands excitedly as he paced around. "We've always had a choice, but we never knew the consequences of our decision. Throughout history, you and I have always chosen to be enemies out of instinct and pride! Never considering what our battle would do to the future. Your mother told you the story of Yamoshi, Luffa, but it doesn't mention what happened after the final battle, does it? If it had, then maybe the next Super Saiyan would have tread more carefully."

"So I become your queen," Luffa said. "What does that solve?"

"Everything," Rehval said. "By working together, we can accomplish things our ancestors never would have imagined. You'd be more than just an enforcer, Luffa. In time, the people would see you as a symbol of the state."

"The 'people' hate me," Luffa said. She pointed at her bright yellow hair with one hand and her glowing green eyes with the other. She hadn't powered down from her Super Saiyan form since she arrived in the city. This was enemy territory, after all. "I've been reading their minds, Rehval. Not that I needed to, but they're terrified of what I am."

"I can change that!" Rehval insisted. "They only fear what they don't understand. The Super Saiyans of Legend were forgotten because history is written by the victors, and in the end, it's the Rehvals of history who overcome. We don't have to defeat you Super Saiyans; we just have to outlast you. With you by my side, I can incorporate the Super Saiyan into the state culture. Luffa can be Saiya's hero, just like you're the hero to your alien Federation."

He approached her again, and reached for her hair, though the image of his hand could only pass through the thick shocks of gold.

"Give yourself to me," he said, "and I can make the people worship you as you deserve to be worshiped."

Luffa gasped and then bit her lower lip. Rehval smiled at this.

"That's what you want, isn't it?" he said. "To be acknowledged and appreciated. That's why you returned my kiss, with interest, back on Planet Saiya. You talk about pride, Luffa. Let me indulge that pride. When I'm finished, the first story every Saiyan child will learn from their mothers will be yours."

"You... you can do that?" Luffa asked.

"It would take some time, but with your cooperation, it would be a simple matter to tie your public relations to my own," Rehval assured her. "Your power will legitimize my rule, and my rule will legitimize your power. One day, Saiyan women will dye their hair gold and wear green contact lenses as a fashion statement."

"And all I have to do is marry you."

"We would have to keep up the appearances of a loving couple, but from what I've seen, that wouldn't be a problem for you," Rehval said.

"That was before I found out you'd been lying to me," Luffa said. "I know about your past marriages, the consorts, and a few other women you keep secret. Not to mention the aliens. I'm not sure your public would approve of them."

"Ah," Rehval said.

"Ah," Luffa replied.

"You've probably already guessed that I altered my own memories to fool your telepathic powers," Rehval said. "You read my mind, and saw only what I wanted you to see. That I was trustworthy, completely innocent of any action taken against you, and that I had fallen hopelessly in love with you at first sight."

"And a bachelor," Luffa added.

"I literally removed all of my memories to the contrary before you arrived on Saiya," Rehval explained. "It's an alchemical technique. So I believed everything you saw in my mind just as much as you did. In a sense, that edited version of me really is a bachelor, one deeply infatuated with you. And I could become that man again, if you liked."

"You've got to be kidding me," Luffa said.

"Not at all," Rehval said. He pointed to his head and smiled. "When I came to Pflaume City, I restored my memories to normal, but I enjoy customizing them from time to time. You and I don't have to be lovers, but from time to time, I could make myself into someone who doesn't remember deceiving you, someone better suited to your romantic tastes. You look skeptical, but it's really a simple procedure now that I've--"

"No, I believe you could do it," Luffa said. "I just can't believe that you would."

"It's a very liberating experience," Rehval said. "If you're interested, I could do the same for you. I'd need some time to prepare, though. It took fifteen months for me to prepare the potions for myself, and every brain is different. But I could use an excuse to spend more time in my laboratory, and--"

"Is nothing sacred to you?" Luffa asked. "You'd really mold yourself into anything I want?"

Rehval chuckled. "Is that such a surprise, woman? I've already told you what lengths I'd go to for the Saiyan race. Is it so hard to believe I might stoop to the same levels for you?"

"But your attraction to me was fake," Luffa said.

"Not quite," Rehval said. He gestured to Pozet, who now sat beside him and took his hands in her own. "When I constructed my homunculus, Pozet, I used tissue samples from your wife to give her a resemblance to her. I modified this, of course. Pozet is like a Dorlun, only she has no life of her own, which gives her an unusual perspective on the Dorlun survival ethic. But her love for you is based upon the emotions Zatte possessed when the samples were collected. I used this as a template for the emotions I planted in my own mind."

Involuntarily, Luffa took a step backward. The image of Rehval and Pozet moved toward her to maintain their distance.

"I created Pozet to understand you better, Luffa," Rehval said. "And since she was madly in love with you, I decided to experience that love for myself. When I restored my memories to normal, I found that some of that attraction remained. Again, we don't need to be lovers to reign as king and queen, Luffa. But we can be, and I think we would both enjoy that."

Luffa pointed at Pozet, who was now nibbling Rehval's earlobe. "And what about that?" Luffa asked. "You seem to have your hands full in the romance department."

"Pozet? Well, you could consider her something of a gift," Rehval said. "I wasn't sure your wife would accept your decision, and I wasn't sure you'd have any romantic interest in me, so I thought Pozet would make an acceptable consort for you. A copy of Zatte devoted to you, but safely loyal to me."

"You don't need her anyway," Pozet said as she batted her eyes at Luffa. "My master and I can satisfy you in ways she could never imagine."

"Is that right?" Luffa asked in a low voice.

"Think about it!" Pozet said. She pointed at her chest proudly as she spoke. "I'm not alive, so I can't be killed! Dorluns are such fragile creatures, and so preoccupied with their own safety. It must be so... frustrating for you in the bedroom."

"That's enough, Pozet," Rehval said gently.

"No," Luffa said. "I want to hear this. You said she was a gift to me, right?"

Rehval nodded and made a gesture for Pozet to continue.

"I knew it," Pozet said as she stood up from the bench. "You're just like the master. Underneath all that savage nobility is a total freak, huh? You must have all kinds of wild fantasies, all bottled up inside, because you don't want to play too rough. Well, take a look at this..."

She opened her silken robes and let them drop to her ankles, revealing a sheer negligee that left very little to the imagination. Satisfied that the two Saiyans were paying attention, Pozet turned around in a full circle to give both of them a complete view of her outfit.

"Just like you wife's body, down to the smallest detail," Pozet said. "Except for the skin and hair color, of course."

"I can't argue with that," Luffa said.

"Now, imagine you've got all this, and no limits," Pozet said. "I'll do whatever you tell me, and if you manage to break this body, my master can just make another one for you. Or two, or three..."

"And if I get bored with you?" Luffa asked.

"Then you can stuff me in a crate until you're ready to play with me again," Pozet said with a laugh. "But I'll be thinking about you the entire time..."

"What a vulgar little monster," Luffa muttered. "No wonder you evacuated the city, Rehval. I wouldn't want to be anywhere near this thing in a public setting."

"She's a work in progress," Rehval said. "I've been... training her... in various techniques. All for your benefit, of course, but I won't pretend that it hasn't been stimulating."

"It sounds like you've worked out all the details, Rehval," Luffa said. "Except that I'm already married."

"I leave that matter up to you," Rehval said. "If you can convince her to join our little family, I'll let you keep Zatte as a courtesan. You'll have to divorce her first, naturally, but if you prefer her company to mine, you're welcome to her, so long as you keep it private."

"Oh, I doubt she'd buy into what you're selling," Luffa said. "She's very jealous of our marriage. I don't think she'd approve of sharing me. Besides, the whole evil clone thing would bother her."

"I suspected as much," Rehval said. "Which is why I sent one of my Pozets to stow away on your ship when she left Planet Saiya."

"You mentioned that earlier," Luffa said. "Why did you do that?"

"Because Zatte could make trouble for us," Pozet said. "She was on her way here, to find me, and we didn't want her getting in the way while Master made his proposal to you."

"I don't want to press the issue, Luffa," Rehval said, "but you are trapped in this city, and you will be unless you accept my offer and join me. The three of us can consummate our new alliance in a scenic part of the city, or you can refuse, and I'll leave you imprisoned here until you change your mind. But Zatte will not be coming to pick you up, I've already seen to that."

"I see," Luffa said.

"I realize this must be humiliating for you," Rehval said. "But I urge you to understand that I'm only doing this for the sake of our species. The best thing you can do for everyone involved is to yield to the circumstances."

"All right, just give me a minute to think about this," Luffa said. She turned away from them, but the image simply shifted around as she moved. Luffa rubbed her chin thoughtfully and closed her eyes.

"What's to think about?" Pozet asked impatiently.

"You couldn't understand, my dear," Rehval said. "Luffa's a proud Saiyan woman, and I've cornered her. No matter how much she might want to accept my terms, a surrender is still a surrender."

"I should have worn the latex outfit," Pozet grumbled. "She wouldn't hesitate if she saw me in that."

"You can really make your subjects love me," Luffa finally asked. She pointed to her hair again and added: "Even when I'm like this?"

"Our subjects, Luffa," Rehval assured her. "And yes."

"Can you alter my memories so I won't have to remember what the Tikosi did to me?" she asked.

"That would take time," Rehval said. "But I can do that for you, certainly."

"And you're sure your homunculus can stop Zatte from causing any problems."

"Don't worry about that, sexy," Pozet said with a smile. "There's a good chance she's dead already."

Luffa smiled back. "You're sure about that, are you?" Luffa asked.

"Positive," Pozet replied.

Luffa began to laugh.

As she did, Rehval and Pozet looked at each other and smiled.

Luffa continued laughing.

"Is something wr--?" Rehval started to ask, but Luffa started laughing louder to cut him off.

Rehval and Pozet looked at each other again. This time they were not pleased.

"You're a fool," Luffa finally said. "You actually think you have the advantage here."

"I take it you disagree," Rehval said.

She pointed at Pozet, and her face twisted with revulsion. "How many of those things did you sneak aboard my ship, Rehval?" she asked.

"Just one," he said. "But--"

Luffa laughed again, but not as long this time. "And it's no different from this one that I'm looking at right now. You actually think this cheap copy stands a chance!"

"Posturing won't change the situation, Luffa," Rehval said. "We can speculate all day about whether your wife can defeat a Pozet, but the fact remains--"

"Vengeance Cannon," Luffa suddenly said. Before the others could react, she touched her fingers to her forehead and swung her arm to a spot on the deck just beneath her feet. There was a flash of crimson from her fingertips, and a beam of light ripped through the ground, and down into the lower levels of the city.

"What are you doing?" Rehval asked. "If you fire blindly through the deck like that you could rupture the hull, and--!"

"I'm not firing blindly, Rehval," Luffa said. "I was aiming at a spot six levels down. I just wanted to show you that I could hit it without damaging anything else. Now that I've located you, I don't want you thinking you can slip away before I get to you."

"You're bluffing, Luffa," Rehval said with a sigh. "My ki is completely hidden from you. It would be pointless to--"

"Oh, shut up, Rehval," Luffa said. "Did you actually think I followed you all the way here just to stand around and listen to your stupid plans and philosophies?"

"Honestly, I was somewhat surprised," Rehval said. "But if you had something else in mind, I haven't noticed."

"Then you really weren't paying attention, Rehval," Luffa said. "Back on Planet Saiya, I was trying to show you how to how to help me use my technique, remember?"

She held up her hand and yellow sparkles suddenly appeared over her palm. They floated across the fabric of her gloves and spilled between her fingers, vanishing before they could reach her boots.

"Golden Duster," she said. "You remember how it works, right? I suffuse an area with tiny particles of my own ki, then use it to sense gaps large enough to be people hiding their own ki energy."

"Enough," Rehval said. "You yourself admitted that your technique was useless on a planetary scale, not without someone as strong as me to help you--"

"Yeah, that's true," Luffa said. "If you'd stayed on Planet Saiya, I probably never would have been able to find you on my own. But this is floating city we're on isn't anywhere near as big as a planet, is it? I just needed time to spread the energy. Had to do it slowly so you wouldn't notice me doing it. Fortunately, you're so in love with the sound of your own voice that you gave me all the time I needed, and you never even noticed what I was doing."

"You're lying, Luffa," Rehval said. "You taught me all about the Golden Duster. You couldn't have found me so quickly. Not even you have that kind of skill."

Luffa laughed again. "You want to bet?" she asked.

She held up her index and middle finger of her left hand and smiled as a crimson light appeared on her fingertips. "I'll call my shots. Try not to move around too much. You're so close to the outer hull that I might breach it if I miss."

"Wait, what are you--?!"

She pointed her hand at the floor. "Vengeance Cannon," she said. As she spoke, a beam of red light lanced out from her fingers and tore through the deck, and the deck below that, and the deck below that...

"Down, master!" Pozet cried. She shoved him away, just as the beam of crimson light entered whatever room they were in. The holo-image before Luffa showed her attack striking the floor at Pozet's feet, only to fizzle out before it could penetrate the deck.

"That was a rotten trick, Luffa!" Pozet said. "I'll make sure Zatte suffers for this."

"You think that sort of talk is going to piss me off?" Luffa asked. "Make me reckless enough to throw me off my game? Let's find out. Vengeance Cannon."

She fired again, and this time Pozet looked up at the ceiling, apparently sensing the trajectory of the next attack.

"Pozet, don't bother," Rehval said. "She's found us. All we can do now is--"

Before he could finish, the ceiling above them exploded, causing tons of debris to rain down on their heads. Pozet leaped atop her master's body to protect him, but he shrugged her away and used his own powers to repel anything that might have harmed him.

"She missed?" Pozet asked. "How could she miss? Her first shot was almost perfect!"

Rehval might have explained Luffa's strategy to her, but there was no time. The clouds of dust kicked up by the explosion had obscured their holographic view of Luffa's position. They never noticed that she had moved away from that location, or that she had begun smashing her way down the path her first attack had made through the deckplates. To Rehval's credit, he managed to see Luffa coming, but only as a blurry shadow in the dust. Before he could even say her name, she had landed on the deck less than twenty yards away from them.

"Stay away from him!" Pozet cried. She positioned herself between Luffa and Rehval. "I won't let you--"

Luffa stalked towards them, her eyes wide with fury. "Was this abomination supposed to win me over, Rehval? Did you really think I'd accept it as some sort of consort? It only shows how little you really know about me."

"Bravado's cute and all," Pozet said, "but don't forget who you're dealing with. I have all of Zattie's abilities, Luffa! And I have the poison I used to kill dozens of Saiyans!"

Luffa continued to walk towards them.

"My body's riddled with the stuff. If you so much as touch me, you'll keel over. It doesn't matter how strong you are!"

Luffa didn't stop.

"Master, what do I do?" Pozet asked. "You said she would love me. I wasn't prepared for this! I never expected--!"

Luffa threw a roundhouse kick at Pozet's neck. In a fraction of a second, the homunculus's head was torn away from its body, which collapsed to the floor. The head was engulfed in a yellow flame, and Luffa ignited the decapitated body with a similar flame by stomping on it.

"And that's why I'm not bluffing about my wife," Luffa said. "A true Dorlun would never die so easily, but your puppet doesn't care one way or the other, so it's unprepared to deal with setbacks."

"I see your point," Rehval admitted. "But Pozet doesn't need to kill Zatte to stop her. She can disable your ship's engines. Zatte isn't my enemy in all of this. If she's the survivalist you say she is, she'll assess the situation and save herself."

"That...that's up to her," Luffa said. "I don't need her help to defeat you."

"But you want it, don't you?" Rehval asked. "You want her to be here, if only to share in your victory, but she's not coming this time, Luffa. And you know exactly why that is."

"I betrayed her," Luffa said. "All those nights I was with you, when I should have been with her. If she doesn't know already, your little doll will tell her, isn't that right?"

"It's not too late to accept my offer," Rehval said. "Pozet offends you. I can see that now. But we can convince Zatte to see things our way. We can--"

"You really don't get it, do you?" Luffa shouted. "All you care about is bending and flexing the situation around until it fits your agenda. You don't accept the consequences of your actions, you just look for a loophole. Well it ends here, Your Majesty. Today you and I are going to stand up straight and take everything that's coming to us. If it costs me my marriage, then that's what I deserve. But I promise you, the price you're going to pay will be much higher."

As she stepped towards him, he raised his arms to defend himself, and this was as far as King Rehval could go. From his perspective, he could only see Luffa vanish before his eyes, and in the next moment she was behind him, shoving him to the ground and wrapping her left leg around his. Before he knew what was happening, she had him caught in a leg slicer hold, and she was pulling his heel towards his thigh, with her shin caught in the backside of his knee.

"Here's my counteroffer, Rehval," Luffa said as he cried out in pain. "First, I'm going to pull your knee apart. Then I do the other knee. Quit squirming."

He tried to raise his hand to attack her, and when she noticed this, she fired a burst of energy from her mouth which left the flesh on his arm pink and blistered. Rehval's squeal of agony was unlike anything she would have expected to hear from him. It was music to her ears.

"See that was a bad move," Luffa said. "I was going to get to that arm eventually, but now you've just accelerated my timetable. So I guess I skip ahead to your other arm, unless you need it to open the portal out of this city."

Rehval could only scream.

"I'd urge you to think about this carefully, Rehval. It's for the good of the Saiyan race. Well, maybe not, but to hell with them. If I were you, I'd start worrying about my own skin. But take your time in deciding. I'll be working over your legs for a few minutes at least.

"You really had me fooled for a while there, didn't you?" she went on. "Yeah, it was a really clever plan. You're a smart guy, Rehval. Bet you feel really smart. And handsome? Oh yeah, you're gonna be the best looking man I ever killed. I--!"

Suddenly, she sensed something. It was a ki signature, and a very strong one, stronger than Rehval had ever been able to produce. But it wasn't the intensity of the power that shocked her. Nor was it the mere presence of another person in Pflaume City. That was a mystery in itself, since Luffa had surveyed the entire structure only minutes earlier and found no one else on board. What shook her to her very core was how familiar the ki was, and how impossible it was that she could ever sense it again.

Still, Luffa's warrior instincts prevailed, even in a moment of uncertainty like this. She released her hold on Rehval, and shifted to a chin lock as she pulled him to a standing position and turned her back to the nearest wall that would allow her to face the newcomer.

"Another trick?" Luffa asked Rehval, who was gasping and coughing in her arms. "This one is low, even for you."

"Y-you... sense him... then!" Rehval said. "No... not a trick. A precaution. When you destroyed Pozet, that was his signal to come out and save me."

"Save you?!" Luffa asked. "Why should he...?"

Even as she asked the question, she began to consider the possible answers, and while she couldn't guess the whole story, she knew enough to realize just how terrible the truth would be. She could sense him getting closer, smashing through bulkheads as he approached the section of the city they were in, and then he came into view.

"Stand away from him, woman!" he shouted. He was a Saiyan adolescent. A boy of fifteen years at most, but as he converged on Luffa's position, he carried himself with all the confidence and swagger of a grown man.

She released her grip on Rehval and allowed him to collapse to the floor, but it had nothing to do with the boy's command. So great was her shock that she barely heard the words as he spoke. Indeed he continued speaking, raving about the glory of the Saiyan crown and how this base assault on his sovereign would not go unavenged.

Luffa heard none of this. She was too astonished by what she saw: Her unborn son, alive and nearly grown.

And he was loyal to her worst enemy.

NEXT: Sins of the Fathers

#dragon ball #lssjluffafic #fanfiction #super saiyan #luffa #rehval #pozet #pflaume #the one advantage to holding off on publishing for this long #is that the material looks a lot better to me on the reread #it's fine #everything is fine #well not for luffa but you get the idea

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