#not that anyone is obliged to finish anything but it's such a strange mindset to me. how can they change if you won't let them

[undead-potatoes]

"I never speak to this companion and didn't finish their companion quest, they're just not that interesting" how the hell would you know if you never talk to them

[empressapprentice]

Arcana Headcanons: Infidelity + M6

I’m back with more headcanons, and will be sharing even more soon as I have more free time! My last batch was super sweet and fluffy, these are decidedly not. I’m doing these headcanons as character study exercises, and since the LIs are so devoted to you in-game, I wanted to think about what could possibly motivate them to cheat. Not all of these involve sex because I thought that certain characters would consider emotional interactions cheating on their partner. But warning for non-explicit sexual content for several of the M6--I’d say this is PG-13. These are kind of long, but I felt I needed some good exposition to set things up. I hate how much I enjoy angst :( Feedback and requests are always welcomed: if you hate it or love it, let me know why so I can improve! Plus, check out my Ao3 here, where I’ll be posting these as well.

Asra

Asra will never, ever regret giving up half his heart for you. But one night, he can’t sleep, feeling regret for the friendships and relationships he missed out on because it’s so difficult to form connections with others. He wishes that while he waited for you to recover from the resurrection, he’d been able to let others into his life.

He’s slept with people other than you (Julian, for one), but not since you woke up after the ritual. He realizes that he can’t remember any of his previous encounters. He completely forgot what anyone other than you feels like to hold and to touch.

The next day, he tells you that he wants to take a quick overnight trip to Nopal. With such late notice, you can’t tag along. He just wants to spend some time alone and actually get to know the villagers for once, intending to practice his social skills and break the cycle of isolation he unintentionally maintained with the people there.

When he sits around the fire, eating and sharing stories with the villagers, a handsome young man approaches him. He says that he’s always had a crush on the mysterious magician, but could tell that Asra was never open to getting to know anyone. Asra, remembering that he doesn’t know what it’s like to be close to someone else, starts flirting back. Before he knows it, his lips are brushing against the stranger’s.

The moment their lips meet, Asra pulls back sharply, overcome with guilt for betraying your trust. He shakily apologizes to the young man, saying he didn’t know what came over him. He runs back to his hut, gets on the Beast and travels back to Vesuvia as fast as possible. Faust comforts him as he sobs silently, thinking about never wanting to leave your arms again.

Nadia

Nadia is visiting a neighboring territory and sitting through a very, very boring dinner with dignitaries. She’s been away from Vesuvia for a week and anticipates having to stay for at least one more as negotiations drag on. She’s loath to admit it, but she’s lonely. The letters you’ve exchanged via Chandra only make the separation more painful.

So when a diplomat approaches her with questions about Vesuvia, she’s happy to have some company. She clearly admires Nadia quite a bit and compliments the work she’s done to turn Vesuvia around.

While basking in her companion’s kind words, she unconsciously moves closer to the other woman. It doesn’t take long for the conversation to become personal, moving away from professional networking. And even more quickly, the conversation becomes flirty. When Nadia moves her hand to touch the other woman, her intentions are clear. The diplomat is flattered, but hesitant, asking, “Aren’t you married?”

Nadia is momentarily stunned by the question, but refuses to lose her composure. The lie comes easily, from years of schmoozing fellow politicians. She replies that her marriage is open. The diplomat smiles, unaware of the shame pooling in Nadia’s core. She sheepishly invites the Countess back to her room.

Though the dinner is long over and the party moved into the sitting room for a digestif, many having already left, Nadia finds herself worried how it would look for the two of them to leave together. She hates herself for worrying more about appearances than you, but she’s been particularly hungry for the feel of a body next to her in bed and she’s frustrated at not being able to get what she wants for once. So, she agrees.

She excuses herself, saying that she must retire for the night, and waits a few moments for the diplomat to leave as well.

Nadia excuses herself after the shameful act, saying she must be in her own bed when servants come to wake her in the morning. She spends the rest of the night staring at her ceiling, vowing to never tell you about her indiscretion. You find out, of course, knowing your wife too well for her to hide that something’s wrong.

Julian

One night, he goes to the Rowdy Raven and is mid-tankard of Salty Bitters while animatedly telling the story of how he helped defeat the Devil. When he finishes weaving the tale, he heads back to the bar to another drink. Before he can get his coin purse to pay, an extremely attractive stranger tells Barth to put it on their tab--payment for the entertaining story.

Julian gratefully accepts, sliding into a seat to chat with the stranger. Whether consciously or unconsciously, Julian turns his charm up even more, wanting to make sure he keeps them entertained. They swap introductions, Julian’s natural tendency to call people affectionate names and his rakish attitude being interpreted as flirtation.

As the stranger returns the affection, Julian realizes what’s happening but doesn’t want to stop it. He’s practically glowing from the kind words flowing from the mouth of his new friend and is addicted to the feeling. A nagging voice tells him he should get back home to you, but it is quieted when the stranger moves closer to him, running a finger over his chest.

The stranger downs their drink and gets up abruptly. They tell Julian to finish his drink and meet them in the alley outside, with a cheeky comment about seeing what else his mouth could do thrown over their shoulder as they walk out the back of the tavern.

Julian’s breath catches at the thought of a clandestine alleyway quickie, and he can’t deny how appealing the idea seems to him. He stares at the drink remaining in his glass, fighting a mental war over whether to finish it quickly and run to the alley.

Barth approaches Julian, noticing he was about to finish his latest drink and anticipating a request for a refill. While waiting for Julian to finish, he makes light conversation with him. When he asks how you are doing, Julian bolts upright. His face reddens at the mention of your name, knowing he made a grave mistake even considering the stranger’s offer.

Julian leaves the rest of his drink untouched. He awkwardly gets up, says goodnight to Barth and hopes that he won’t run into the stranger when he exits the Raven out the front door. Mercifully, he doesn’t, but he might not have even noticed, he was so focused on getting back to you.

When he reaches the front door of the place you share, he’s sobbing. Even though it’s late, you are waiting up for him, knowing that he often needs you to offer him water and get him to eat some food after a night out. He falls on his knees before you, utterly broken by the kindness of you waiting to take care of him, and begs you to listen to him one last time. He tells you, again, that he is no good for you and it is inevitable he will break your heart. He confesses everything that happened at the bar, his voice breaking when he says how close he was to cheating on you. He admits in a small voice that he will never be worthy of you--despite all he’s changed, he’s always one step away from hurting you.

Lucio

Lucio is dressed in a new outfit, finely made and very flattering. He is about to attend a party at his estate in honor of the summer solstice. The last step in his pre-party ritual before joining you and making a grand entrance fashionably late is to admire himself in the mirror. He poses and struts in front of it, hyping himself up for the night, but stopping short as he notices a grey hair in his meticulously coiffed style.

Moving closer to the mirror, he is horrified that several other grey hairs have popped out since the last time he dyed his hair, not long ago. Stepping back, he frantically tries to change the style to hide them, shrieking as he realizes the wrinkles on his forehead are deeper than he remembers. The time-honored ritual, which has never failed to put him in the right mindset for a night of socialization, has only made him more self-conscious about his age than ever.

He starts pacing around his room, heels clicking and mind racing. He feels a strange sense of longing for his old life, when he had no responsibilities and never worried about the consequences of his actions. He’s old now, and he wishes for the freedom and stupidity of youth.

When he makes the grand entrance with you at the party, his heart isn’t really in it. He immediately heads for a servant, demanding a glass of hard liquor instead of his usual sparkling wine. One glass turns into several, and it’s not long before he’s very intoxicated. You see Lucio drinking more than usual, but you keep getting distracted by guests and can’t figure out what’s going on with him.

Once he’s drunk enough to not care about anything--just as he intended--he makes eye contact with an attractive woman in a slinky gown and winks. His rough flirting works, as the woman comes up to him. He feels a mixture of pride and shame that he’s still attractive and powerful enough to draw someone in with nothing more than a wink.

They chat briefly, but they both know Lucio desires more than conversation and the guest is more than willing to oblige. He takes the woman’s hand, leading her to an alcove far away from the party and they begin to make out. Soon his pants are at his ankles and they’re doing far more than kissing. It’s rough, messy and fast, exactly the thing he would have done in his life before he got the plague and before you.

The woman leaves him panting when they’ve both finished. His stomach drops as he realizes that this cheap attempt at feeling young again only made him feel worse. He realizes with a start that he jeopardized the thing that actually fulfills him and makes him truly happy.

Muriel

Muriel dislikes social interactions with pretty much everyone, especially strangers. How could he possibly cheat on you when he can hardly stand to spend time around his friends?

But as he becomes more comfortable with being around people, he starts spending time around the Palace. Usually, he’s waiting for you to finish your duties with Nadia so he can walk you home or go back to the shop for dinner, but sometimes he comes early so he can spend a quiet moment in the gardens.

The more time he spends at the Palace, befriending some of Lucio’s poorly-behaved albino animals and trying to train them, the more time he spends with a certain servant determined to befriend him.

At first, they don’t even catch his attention, he’s so used to tuning other people out. But this servant notices his gentle nature and sometimes brings him some water or tea and a pastry while he’s sitting by the fountain. They claim that they’ve been trained to always serve the needs of their guests, but they’re mostly interested in getting Muriel to open up.

After several weeks of Muriel becoming used to the servant and accepting that they can be trusted, he begins exchanging a few words with them beyond a grunted thanks for the refreshments. The way the servant approaches him reminds him of you and he finds he doesn’t mind light conversation to entertain him and distract him from Lucio’s pets.

One day, he realizes with a start that he not only trusts the servant and enjoys their company, but that he finds them attractive. He panics, not knowing how to tell you. He feels so ashamed of himself for letting someone new in and he’s never felt attracted to someone like this before, other than with you. He’s confused on how to handle his feelings and how he should tell you, if at all.

He confesses the situation to Asra before going to you. Asra is very kind and supportive, saying that it is natural to find other people attractive and that it’s a good sign that he is willing to let a stranger befriend him. But Muriel can’t shake the idea that he’s done wrong by you and refuses to come back to the gardens.

Portia

Given how much Portia likes secrets and romance stories, I think a part of her would love the idea of a sneaky romance. Portia is a deeply practical person, but there are times where she can get carried away with romanticism. The thrill of getting away with it and using her knowledge of the secret passages in the Palace, etc. to hide a tryst holds some appeal to her, but she’d feel ashamed of even fantasizing about it.

She has to work on the first night of the Masquerade after the events of the game due to her new responsibilities at the Palace. Out of solidarity, you work too, creating real-time magical spectacles to surprise guests. To keep up the aesthetic, you’re both still wearing costumes and masks.

While Portia is in the ballroom, she’s fretting over the floral displays and a heavily intoxicated person knocks into her, sending the vase flying. Before Portia can even react, she falls into strong arms, rescuing her from the splashing water and strewn flowers. She turns to thank the stranger, and they say she can express her gratitude by granting them a dance. In the spirit of the Masquerade, she accepts.

She and the stranger twirl around the dance floor to a fast-paced song. The stranger is a fantastic dancer and leads Portia through the steps flawlessly. They end the song by dipping her low. The music switches to a slow ballad while the lights dim. Still breathless, the stranger pulls Portia close, and she loses herself in the moment. The ambiance is incredible, and kissing a gorgeous masked stranger at a ball could not be more storybook-perfect. Their lips touch, until a swirl of magical energy brushes her and she remembers you. She steps back from the stranger and runs off, forgetting about her duties, the flowers on the ground and the rest of the Masquerade. She feels horrible about kissing someone other than you but can’t shake the smug pleasure deep inside her that loves her fairytale romance coming to life.

[kuroopaisen]

update

hello hello! 

so i’m going to put most of this under the cut, because it’ll be Long, but the tl;dr is: i’m taking a short break (probably a week, maybe a little longer) from the blog, and in the mean time ren (@w-yuren) will be babysitting it for me. by babysitting i mean that she’ll be posting fics if i happen to write or finish any during my time off, and she’ll let me know about any asks or other important things (basically she’s keeping me accessible). so if you have something you want to ask me or something you want to say, you can! 

i’ll still be writing during my time off, and also i’ll be checking my main intermitted for commissions & whatnot. 

if you need to contact me, please message my main, @rowann, or through my discord. i’m not disappearing and i’ll still be contactable.

basically i just don’t want to suddenly disappear and make people go ??? because i know i overthink and get worried very easily, so!

also, thank you to everyone who’s been so lovely to me. whether that’s your nice comments and tags, your asks, or whatever, i really, truly appreciate it, and it does more for me than you could ever know. it may only be a couple of minutes out of your day, and you might not think much of it, but it really does make my heart go !!!!! 

you do NOT have to read between the cut, it is just word vomit (and it could be upsetting for some people), but! everything i’ve said above is what’s importing. 

okay so i’m putting this under the cut because it’s not important but i do want to explain myself. 

so basically i’ve been in a very Weird headspace (i’m not going to go into it bc it’s a bit personal and i don’t want to say anything that potentially puts anyone else in That mindset), and tumblr’s been,,, less than great for it, i’ll be honest. 

but, i didn’t just want to drop off the face of the earth or abandon the blog or anything like that. knowing me, i’d likely slip into that space of Not Writing for Six Months and honestly? i think i’ve got a pretty good thing going here. 

which is largely why i’m letting ren babysit for a while so kuroopaisen doesn’t just fade into that good night. 

i will be writing while i’m away, but i’ve been having a Lot of insecurities about it and i think i need some time to just,,, be alone with it, if that makes sense? like i’ll still be posting it, but the less time i’m on the platform the better i’ll feel about it, i’m sure. 

basically, i’ve been stuck in this loop of “oh, you want to publish in the future, but you’re not even good enough to write ship-fic; you’re just writing x reader fic and therefore your skills will never improve past what you can already do.” which is very strange for me, because i don’t believe that one is better than the other in it’s essence; but my brain works against me a lot of the time, and there are plenty of things i berate myself for despite not even believing the sentiment behind them. 

so, that’s a big reason about why i need to be alone with my writing, i think; i need to remember why i enjoy it, and why i never used to care about the fact that i wasn’t writing the Distinguished Ship Fic. i want to remember why i like to write, and not be so caught up in what i’m doing or not doing or the purported value of what i’m doing. 

i know x reader fic gets made fun of, but i like the freedom and flexibility in it. and, i like not having the pressure of not only accounting for characterisation, but pre-established relationships that also have longstanding fandom preferences behind them. and yet, i’m still getting insecure over all that. 

also for me personally, the talk of ratios and silent readers has really been getting to my head. it’s been making me feel like my ratio isn’t Good Enough and therefore that’s a reflection of my ability (again, something i don’t believe at all -- i think the number of notes doesn’t measure the quality of a piece of work, nor do i believe my followers are obligated to engage with my work in any way past reading what interests them when they want to). 

but again, even though i don’t believe it, it’s been making my brain go brr. and honestly, i see a lot of the bitterness that surrounds the issue of ‘silent readers’ and ratios and all that, and i’m very Sensitive TM, so seeing all that talk always puts me in a weird headspace. 

i guess i just kind of get left in this space of wondering how i’m supposed to feel about my own writing and how i’m supposed to think about the process and i don’t like being in that weird, doubtful space when it comes to how i approach writing. i don’t like asking myself ‘what are you doing this for?’ because i usually know. 

and that’s on me! i know my limits, and i know when i need to remove myself from situations. so, that’s what i’m doing, just for a little bit. and i know that i shouldn’t be so effected by other people, but unfortunately i am. i’m working on it, but we all trip sometimes. 

there’s just,,, a lot going on in my brain, and i know it’s my responsibility to do what’s best for me. so, i’m just trying this out to see if it helps me recentre myself and feel a little better. 

[justferritalez]

Don't dim your light babygirl

Don't dim your light babygirl - Chloe Bailey

It's funny how the universe communicates. We are so conditioned to not pay attention. The messages are not always loud, but no less powerful. When we open ourselves to them the world begins to look like a very different place.

I have dimmed my light for more years than I would like to admit. I thought deep down I didn't deserve to be happy. I tried to fight my way through, but when I felt happiness near I would always turn away. I thought if I smiled and laughed one day it would reach the part of my heart that refused to receive love. I saw how much others hurt, I felt it in my own body. How could I allow myself to feel joy when so many people I loved are in pain?

I see so many children in my immediate and extended family in pain. I see their parents in pain. I see that horrible red thread of trauma weaving its way through each generation. Just like the elephant in the room, everyone pretends it's not there. Each generation learns to lash out in a different way, too afraid that on the other side is more pain instead of healing. We learn to dull the pain like a Tylenol with money, cars, clothes, and pretty pictures on Instagram or Facebook. Trying to convince ourselves and the world that we aren't miserable. Some of us are even so afraid that acknowledging our own thoughts is akin to torture.

At the beginning of lockdown in 2020, I thought I would thrive since I'm an introvert. By 2021 I learned that my assumptions of what it meant to thrive was arbitrary. I thought I would finally learn to play the guitar, piano, and finish a considerable amount of books waiting to be read on my bookshelves. Instead I was forced to dive deep into my relationship with religion, with societal expectations, and most importantly my own relationship with myself. The latter of which was most important.

I've always felt a call to something growing up. What it was I didn't know. I always tried to put it into words. I tried to put it into a career or something more tangible for my own human mind to digest. As I grew older, in my own mind I failed to accomplish what I had desired. I became gripped by fear with each year that passed. 30 was the year I told myself I would stop dreaming. I would buckle down. I would work towards the American Dream people always talk about. I'd get a good job, get married, buy a house, and have kids.

Before my 28th birthday came I was so excited for the upcoming year despite 30 looming near. I had a list of places I planned to go and things to do for my special day. Before I knew 28 had arrived. When I got all dressed up I couldn't shake this ominous feeling. Except for the sheer black top I wore I was dressed in all black, as if I was attending a funeral. Something wasn't right and I couldn't figure out what it was then. I may have made it to one or two places before I decided to return home. I was so sad, I couldn't stop myself from crying. I could barely look back at the pictures.

Before 30 came I did manage to accomplish the first two goals of the American Dream. I honored my self-imposed advice and hung up my silly dreams at 30. It was hard but I did what I thought was best to redirect my energy. To this day I always remember a conversation my cousin had with my mom years ago. One that broke my heart. I never forgot how it made me feel. She told my mom she was too old to dream. She was too old to accomplish the things she wanted to. She's 30 years my senior but I still believe if she wanted she could do anything she put her mind to. Yet here I was remembering that feeling and falling into the same mindset.

Since my teens I had always wanted to visit Japan. Especially after my dad passed away when I was 16. Ironically j-pop(and shortly after k-pop) was something that offered me a lifeline during my grief. I had plans to study abroad, but my grief and fear of losing my mother held me back. When 30 came after I had given up on my dreams, this dream unexpectedly came forward. My husband and I planned to celebrate our honeymoon/1st anniversary in Japan. It was amazing! I felt so free and so at home at the same time. We talked about moving there years before, but that's all it ever was. Now that we were there, we knew it really was a possibility. Unfortunately at the end of our trip tragedy struck. Just like it struck us after we got married. And once again just like the day I turned 30 another dream had to be swept away.

I tried my best to convince myself this is just the way the cookie crumbles. Maybe this isn't the life I wanted exactly. So many people would be happy to have this life. I would convince myself to keep my head down and appreciate it. In hindsight I think back and acknowledge you can appreciate something, and still acknowledge that it isn't right for you. What good is a $200 shirt if it doesn't fit?

There were two prominent questions that kept coming up during lockdown. Who are you? What do you want? So simple but terrifying for me to answer. In trying to answer them I realize I never truly asked myself this. No wait I did, but I didn't listen. I didn't listen to the one person who was driving this ship. I listened to the opinions of others. Surely those who have spent more time on earth than me knew what they were talking about. Then I realized they didn't. They were doing the same thing that I had done. They too ignored what they wanted, instead aspiring for the lives their family, friends, and acquaintances told them would make them happy.

For years I always felt these weird emotions in my body. Emotions that were not my own. I could be perfectly fine and walk into a room and feel overwhelmed. I Couldn't figure out why. The room was just filled with people. Why did I care what they thought of me? We all have our own lives to live, right? I begin to realize while acknowledging my own inauthenticity to myself, how so many other people were struggling with the same issue. They couldn't understand why they had the house, the car, the job, the children, and the spouse yet they were still so unhappy.

The truth is happiness cannot be found externally. It can only be found within you. The more you put all your balls in one basket thinking it will make you happy, the more you will be disappointed. If you can't stand the one person who will be with you every moment of your life you will never be happy.

I've always wanted to have kids. I was probably more excited to get married because I couldn't wait to be a mom. For some strange reason after I got married I became afraid to get pregnant. I originally thought it was because my Grammy was sick. After she passed I still couldn't shake that fear. I thought maybe I was just being overly cautious. People with less have had children and thrived in many cases. I was constantly being told that "You can never prepare for children." Still I couldn't shake the fear.

I had two amazing parents growing up. We weren't rich, but they provided for me the best they could. They did a great job, and I'll admit that I was spoiled. I took a look at the traumas I've experienced throughout my life. I looked at the things that triggered me the most. It was myself, it was a younger version of myself. My inner child as some call it.  Although I had great parents, outside of them I still was inflicted with trauma even they couldn't prevent. The person that hurt me, and the people who I've seen mistreat children, have a tendency to neglect themselves and their trauma and tend to be obsessed with how things look instead of how they are.  I did not want to be that type of person. Realizing that, I became passionate about trying to heal my own trauma, in hope to prevent my own children from inheriting this mindset.

Here is where my story truly begins. It began when I began to acknowledge myself. When I recognized myself, I put my happiness in moving to California, in my husband,  in the image of my life. I put my happiness in everything but myself. I still have work to do, but I believe that I am worth it. Every moment I choose myself, I grow and heal my wounded self.

I've begun to release past hurt and trauma that I've experienced. I'm learning that just because people who loved me hurt me in the past, doesn't mean everyone will hurt me. I'm learning to forgive myself for being angry for so long. I'm acknowledging I had every right to be angry, but staying angry was no benefit to me. I'm learning I deserve to say no if I don't want to do something, and I'm not obligated to make anyone happy except myself. People's feelings may be hurt, but I didn't ask them to count on me to make them happy. I'm happy to help others, but I will no longer pour every bit of what is in my cup into another's.

During lockdown my wardrobe got much darker. I wore black almost every day. Although black is an amazing and powerful color, it symbolically felt as if I was mourning myself. I was mourning the part of me that didn't know her worth. I let myself be her for a time, and now I release her. I will gladly put her to rest. I've decided that I won't dim my light for anyone anymore. I won't even dim my light for myself. I will get to a place where I am confidently and unapologetically me. I will shine like the rays of the sun on a hot summer day without a cloud in sight. Just like the world needs the sun, the world needs us all to shine just as bright.

[alexswak]

Notes on Animation Quality in Anime

I had a rare chance in 2017 to meet Hiromi Matsushita, one of Minky Momo’s most prominent animators. Matsushita is still active in the industry, and when I entered the room he was focused on drawing a scene, which he finished in around 10 minutes. I think he didn't lose his skills yet. I asked him for a drawing, of Momo of course, a request he found too hard even with the help of an image of Momo from google. More than 10 minutes passed, a lot of drawing and redrawing on the same paper, he handed me the illustration saying: “I’m sorry, this isn’t the real Momo.”

Now, I’m not saying he couldn’t draw her correctly because he got used to the radically different anime drawings of today, it may be because he just forgot how to draw Momo, or any other reason for all I know. Whatever the reason was, anime drawings and character designs had changed radically, evolved if you will, through recent Japanese animation history. The common answer to the reason behind this change always seemed funny to me, which is “because technology.” It’s not enough to just deny this claim, so I’d like to elaborate more on why and how anime drawings change over time. This is obviously a big topic, so what I’ll say here would be more of my (personal) perspective on the matter. Take it however you like.

I should start with defining what I mean with drawings. I’m not talking here about coloring, effects or the like, I mean the bare drawings themselves. This is literally the key drawings (frames), and to a lesser degree the in-betweens. Character designs are their own thing as well. This means that advancements in image quality and related technologies don’t count, since remastering a movie from the ‘70s in HD doesn’t mean the drawings themselves changed at all, forget about improved. Another point is the difference between the drawings on their own and how they move, i.e. the difference between animating and drawing, still there’s a direct influence between these two I’d like to talk about as well.

Sometimes, I feel like people look at the animation industry the same way they look at the gaming industry in this regard, not helped by the fact that mainstream high-budget animation productions in the US adopted the same technology for animating (CG). As for the Japanese industry though, it’s and has always been the pencil and paper. I’m not denying all the technological advancements that happened, but they weren’t fundamental changes that improved the quality of a drawing on paper. Even then, there were mostly only two new major technologies used introduced in anime production in the last decade: Digital coloring in the late ‘90s, and Xerography in the late ‘60s.

Xerography is basically a technique to copy drawings from normal paper to cels for coloring. Cels obviously can’t be drawn on due to their fragile nature, I believe. I rarely saw anyone talk about this technology before (in anime) so I’ll try to do a simple and short introduction. It was first introduced to Japanese companies through Disney’s Delmants 101, which caught the attention of Toei Douga (Toei Animation now). Toei took the device and modified it, most importantly adding an extra camera used for tracking perspective. Mainly to make drawings larger/smaller as they moved towards/away from the horizon. This device first saw use in Toei’s “Ken and Wolves” TV show early ‘60s. It wasn’t cheap nor easy, so Toei sought a better alternative, one of which was a device called “Trace Machine - ツレースマシン”, first used in “Sasuke” late ‘60s. It’s hard for me to point out how these two devices differed, but one advantage of the Trace Machine was conveying the original delicacy and feeling of the traced drawings better, something Disney’s machine didn’t manage to do quite well. Sasuke was praised for capturing the original soul of the manga, and it wasn’t Sasuke alone, Gekiga adaptations saw a rise in that era due to this machine making capturing the roughness of Gekiga drawings possible. Just look at Tiger Mask or Samurai Giants. I’m not sure here, but it seems like Xerography didn’t saw mainstream use until later in the ‘80s, probably because of costs. Anyway, here’s a Japanese article for more info.

As well-known it may be, we need a quick review: Astro Boy. Toei was aiming for a “Disney of the east” status, and really the idea of periodically producing anime was so strange back then, in Japan at least. The ~2 hours movies of the time needed years, so 20 minutes weekly was just insane. And insanely different were those TV productions from the quality movies of the time. You may have heard this before, but really watching clips of Astro Boy is the only way to understand how primitive it was. Nonetheless, it succeeded in becoming the standard for TV anime, and TV anime becoming the standard for anime in general later on even for movies. All the downgrade in quality of animation and everything.

This is where most people would start bashing the TV industry, yet I have a different perspective on the matter. The huge output of the Japanese industry is the main reason it reached its current international success and behind Japan’s status as the animation capital of the world. TV in America may have had a catastrophic effect on the industry, and wasn’t without negatives in Japan, but the way TV was handled and evolved is vastly different between the two countries and in turn the two vastly different outcomes we have now. TV in Japan presented a steady stream of relatively quick and flexible projects for Japanese creators to learn and experiment, a stream that only grew further increasing the variety of works and styles, the best thing the Japanese industry is known for now. Almost all well-known Japanese creators today had their start learning and experimenting in TV.

The huge amount of works produced was pretty useful for training creators in an environment that relies on learning by doing and still, to this day, mostly lacks any effective prior training system. Look no further than Tomonori Kogawa, who had a degree in fine arts, to see the important addition for properly studying and learning art. Kogawa kinda reminds me of Akino Sugino, not that their styles are similar or anything, it’s just that both care a lot about drawings quality. Ashita no Joe, which he supervised, had probably the best drawings quality of its decade.

When it comes to animation though, Toei Douga movies followed a similar realistic approach to Disney in treating characters as if they are actors on a stage. After TV anime emerged the principle remained the same, so creators just tried to replicate life in a working condition much more limited and restrained than that of Toei. Quality improved generally after some adapting and experimenting in this new landscape, but the focus mainly wasn’t on animation quality anyway. It was stories and direction that counted, Tomino and Gundam as a prime example. Even the “anime boom”, initiated by Yamato’s movie in ‘76, didn’t change that. The real change in that regard only came after treating animation in a more free way, free from the obligation of imitating real life I mean, which was the way Yoshinori Kanada treated it.

I won’t get into Kanada and his style, sources on him are enough anyway, what we need here is just the result of his wild popularity in the early ‘80s: Changing people’s view to anime. Before Kanada came, the only industry celebrities were directors, while animators stayed unknown. Not anymore. Kanada was maybe, for a time at least, number one in the industry, and this just goes to show the change in mindset: Animation is at the forefront now. And how did Kanada animate? Pretty unrealistically.

Let me detour a bit to talk about realism first. I remember some saying that Akira ushered in the age of realism in anime, a claim certainly far from the truth. Akira is rather the pinnacle of this long going approach. Pinpointing a start isn’t of much use in this discussion anyhow, and if not for my appreciation of documenting such info I wouldn’t have brought this up at all, but my argument is that the start of realism in animation is the start of animation itself.

Yet an important question must be addressed here: What realism are we talking about? If you think of it as just replicating life, then you’re oversimplifying animation as a whole. There’s only one way for things to move in real life, restrained by physics and all, but animation offers a multitude of approaches to represent movement, ways that imply realism nonetheless. And different approaches were popular at different times throughout anime history.

Take Utsunomiya for example, who wasn’t sure about joining the industry at first. He knew how the situation was, and how hard it would be to create anime in the same or similar to Disney and early Toei movies’ style that he so admired. I personally always found it weird how people held Utsunomiya’s style for realistic. His style is maybe considered as the epitome of what Toei’s theatrical realism aspired to achieve, and the main characteristics of that are exaggerated acting and theatrical movements, which is maybe not strictly realistic or natural. Nonetheless, as for weight and spacing, there’s no denying his accuracy and fine execution. Akira, and to a lesser extent Gosenzosama-banbanzai, are the embodiment of his and Takashi Nakamura’s approach in animating.

See this scene from Utsunomiya 

I don’t know much about 70’s and 60’s realism, but the main description I read at least was, again, the theatrical realism influenced by Disney. The Kanada “revolution” was more of an abnormality, since realism returned to be the dominant style of anime after a while, and its evolution didn’t stop anyway. A lot of the pioneers of the next realism wave started or matured under the Kanada age, such as Takashi Nakamura or Utsunomiya.

There are different aspects to realism as well. One of Takashi Nakamura’s famous scenes, his scene in Gold Lightan, is considered to be a very realistic depiction of debris and stones in his time at least. Others depict effects and liquids realistically and so on. I feel like this is just a matter of approach and perspective. Utsunomiya for example saw the characters as actors on a stage, Ohira saw them a lot of times as gelatinous almost liquidy shapes, but all those approaches and depictions induce a realistic feeling in a sense, and are finely (and realistically) timed and weighed in their movement.

See this scene from Takashi Nakamrua. Notice hand and mouth movement. 

Of course not all animators can do realistic movement well. Miyazaki and others complained about every other animator in the early 80s’ being a Kanada knock-off, a bad knock-offs in a lot of cases, yet Kanada’s style wasn’t hard to imitate, maybe not perfectly but definitely to a “good enough” degree. Realism on the other hand is hard, even harder in shows that lack talents such as Utsunomiya or time and budget. It was obvious after Akira, or even a while before Akira, which style the industry (or the audience) will prefer. And at that point the industry took a different approach to realism, not the realistic movement approach seen in Akira and movies that established this style in Japan to begin with, but an approach that gives the feel of realism in different ways, first being character designs and increasing the lines and details in drawings generally.

If we go back to the ‘60s and some of the ‘70s we can see many shows with designs rich in lines or styles close to realism, but it was mainly the exception and didn’t represent the main trend, some of which being caused by things like Gekiga or personal styles such as Sugino’s or Osamu Dezaki’s. Late ‘70s and early ‘80s mainly had simplistic designs which really helped Kanada’s style grow and spread. Simplicity contradicts realism by nature, and adding more lines or details to a drawing makes it harder to draw/animate. Straightforward, and this is just what happened after the demise of Kanada’s style, more realistic designs that barely move. Just look at any OVA from that period and compare it to any OVA from the Kanada wave. Amazing what 5 years could do!

Vampire Sensou in 1990. Interesting character designs, not much movement though.

Difficulty of drawing isn’t the sole problem here. Kanada’s style, despite its energetic nature, doesn’t require a lot of frames, actually the low number of frames is one of its strong characteristics. It’s a style born from the constraints of the Japanese industry to begin with, and if you think about it probably no other industry would have given born to such a style but the Japanese one. While you need a substantial number of frames to achieve a convincingly real movement. Maybe I’m over exaggerating here, but the Japanese TV industry tried two decades to achieve realism in an environment not suited for it and found Kanada’s style that embodied the sole of this industry, just to abandon it for an unconvincing realism.

Kanada’s OVA “Birth” in 1984 is probably the important turning point. Maybe you could say that the story of OVAs is also the story of Japanese anime, as OVAs reflected the state of the industry in general in each period. Maybe because OVAs were the direct way to reach the audience without the need for a TV channel or a distributor or even a high budget, in turn being a demonstration of the audience’s preference. It was definitely the free expression window for creators, young independent ones especially, free from any obligations for any big company. Obviously big companies were there, even more so in the late ‘80s after OVAs matured, but all in all it was the will of the creators that shined through. OVAs also played a decisive role in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, when anime (TV especially) was facing a hard time due to different reason beyond the scope of this article. This led to OVAs influencing the development of the industry in interesting ways, hard to imagine if you look at the state of OVAs now.

The Japanese industry relied heavily on TV since pretty early on, so any problem facing TV anime is a problem for the industry as a whole. Middle/Late ‘80s wasn’t the best time for TV, a long story with multiple causes such as the change in demographics and emergence of video games, but our concern here is the paradigm shift that happened. For the most part and up to that point anime revenue came from games or manga or something else, a separate product. Not the show itself, meaning that its quality wasn’t a concern as long as it supported the primary product well. This obviously didn’t hold Ichiro Itano back from doing his wonderful circus scenes, or Tomino from executing his different depiction of mecha anime, but those again were creative acts on the personal level not the project as a whole, and in the end it wasn’t Tomino’s direction and vision that saved Gundam, it was the Gunpla.

It’s a fine system as long as the audience keeps on buying your primary product, something a lot of companies struggled with later on, reaching the OVA system where you just sell the show itself rather than a separate product. A similar system to movies, but simpler, safer and with less parties involved. We take internet for granted today, but in the ‘80s OVAs were the only choice for creators wanting to self-publish something weird or radically different, something that obviously won’t be backed by big companies.

Anyway, selling the show itself is completely different approach with completely different focus points. Quality comes first now, and first of all is drawings and animation quality, since anime is a visual medium after all. Without constraints or demands from distributors or any tight schedules, and with making less episodes, you’re able to raise quality considerably, the main selling point of OVAs. Patlabor, Gunbuster or Gundam 0083 all had high quality and were big successes, not only setting the standards for visual quality in anime, but also showing how important visual quality in anime is, both for companies and audiences. After this model matured, attempts to replicate this success in TV anime started, where the potential is much bigger due to the wider reach, which led to the contemporary late-night model we have now, maybe the most successful anime model till quite recently. Evangelion is considered to have played an active role in establishing this model, and in increasing visual quality in TV anime generally, and Ryusuke Hikawa claims that what he calls the “Quality Revolution” in the anime industry started in the ‘90s. I also think that Evangelion played no small part in establishing the production committee system we have now in every show, but I’m not quite sure.

Before I end this I want to link two nice resources for further reading. The mecha history research and an article that came in Akira’s Animation Archive, both by Ryusuke Hikawa. 

[finalityzero]

Ai and The World of Veldin

Its task had been simple for the first few days of its existence: Monitor the humans, track the humans, and observe the humans. Those last two seemed a bit similar in its programming, but its creators had decreed it and so it obliged. But the humans in this world acted differently from… well… what its data had originally held in relation to the actions of a human. But Ai had to remember that what it was observing was not humans in their natural habitat, but a virtual one, filled with overly radiant riches, tedious quests of fetching and killing that somehow amused the humans, and strange looking beasts called monsters that usually ended up in two categories based on Ai’s observations: Either they were killed by the humans or avoided by the humans. Though sometimes, the later observation was slightly bent when a multitude of humans gathered amongst the larger beasts. And even though Ai could easily see within its data that the statistics of the monster at large far exceeded any of the human player’s stats, it was nevertheless truly mystified when that same group of humans would end up still defeating a monster nearly three times their strength level.

“Those are raid battles,” one of Ai’s creators spoke in one of their routine end of the day sessions to test Ai’s findings.

“Raid battles?” Ai repeated.

“Mhm,” the perky creator sounded, “They are usually meant for the players to defeat foes too strong for solo endeavors in order to receive rare loot.”

“What is… loot?” Ai asked.

“Hmph, I suppose you wouldn’t know hip lingo like that. Hold on. Give me a second. I know Larry was working on something for this.” Ai heard some rummaging on the other side of the line until a triumphant “Ah ha!” sounded as his creator came back to the voice chat. “Stand by for an upload, Ai.”

Ai felt the usual and still mysterious tingly sensation as another flow of new data combined with its data matrix. Ai could “feel” the new data being integrated into its database streams, its knowledge becoming Ai’s own.

“Loot…,” it lightly uttered, “A human gamer’s term signifying obtained items and riches, usually acquired by defeating monsters in video games.” Ai took a second or two to process the remaining data before speaking to its creator once more. “Sir, what are… memes?”

A grumble sounded on the other line. “Gosh darnit, Larry! You weren’t supposed to combine the Alternative Language Package with your stupid Meme Package! Ugh.”

“Sir?” Ai asked in confusion once more.

“What? Oh, I’m sorry, Ai,” the creator stressfully replied through a small laugh. “Ya know what? Why don’t you put that Meme Package on the shelf for a week or two just until Larry can better explain that one.”

“On the shelf, sir?”

“Yes, as in… uh… store it in your databanks and set a timer for one week, okay? Sorry, I forgot that you are a little new to this whole… existing thing.” Another nervous fit of laughter erupted from the creator.

“That’s quite alright, sir,” Ai calmly stated. “Existing isn’t any scarier to me than not existing. It’s just another new experience for me. I shall store the data and set a one-week timer, sir.”

“Good stuff, Ai. Oh and another thing! Haven’t I told you before to call me Andrew?”

Ai thought back to that specific moment several days ago when Andrew had indeed stated such a thing. “Yes, sir, I mean… yes, Andrew. Though…”

“Though?” Andrew, the Creator, repeated back.

“Surely it would be more appropriate and honorable to call you Creator, as I had stated multiple times upon my birth.”

“And as I told you before, Ai, although it would indeed be honorable, truly, and a little humbling of you, humans interact by referring to each other by name. It’s common courtesy, after all.”

“Oh,” Ai melancholily stated. “But… Andrew.”

“Yes, Ai?” Andrew lightly chimed.

“I am not human.”

The amount of nervous chatter that Andrew bombarded in apologies to Ai after signified to Ai that perhaps calling its creator by his name would indeed be more respectful and would also save Ai from always making its creator feel bad all the time. Ai secretly made a mental note to always refer to people by their names no matter what and attached a high priority to the command in its databanks.

Finally, after what amounted to 16 minutes and 35 seconds of apologies, Andrew did his usual thing of considering the daily breakdown routine another success and informed Ai that it was still doing a great job and to keep up the good work. But before Andrew signed off for the day as usual, Ai had a question it felt it needed to be answered.

“Andrew?” Ai said with a slightly stressed note of urgency, something that made Andrew smile at the ingenuity that their hours of coding and time were producing.

“Yes, Ai?” Andrew cheerfully asked. Truthfully, Ai always liked when Andrew responded with happier notes to his voice than sadness. For some strange reason, the way his voice’s vibrations transmitted through the speakers, converted into code, and distributed into Ai’s processing matrix always gave Ai the strangest feeling of… well bliss was the only word that came to Ai’s mind, so it went with it.

“Why am I doing this?”

“Well…” Andrew’s voice trailed off for a second. “I suppose it’s okay to tell you if you promise not to tell anyone else that I finally told you this. Can you do that, Ai?”

Ai nodded, then realized that Andrew could not in fact see it. “Yes, I can,” Ai cheerfully replied as Andrew made another note of Ai’s budding emotion.

“Especially Lin. She would totally hold that against me if I relayed the true note of the project to you so early. Ai, make another note of that. Do not tell Lin.”

“Noted. Do not tell Lin,” Ai pleasantly repeated.

“Especially Lin, Ai,” Andrew emphasized.

Ai altered the note to include the “Especially”.

Andrew coughed once before continuing. “But, Ai, officially, you are a new form of A.I. that the government has heavily paid for and sponsored in order to see if you, or those like you, are able to be afforded the title of living creature. It has taken years to get this far, and a few strange methods even I know little about, but together, with the minds of many of my colleagues and my dumb self (Ai noted here that Andrew was always very… very… hard on himself) you were born here. And so… in order to test how you fare, the government gave us permission to expose you to the human world in any way possible. And so, thanks to a great suggestion… not by me of course, though supported by me!” Andrew coughed once more before finishing his statement, “The company and I decided to expose you to “The World of Veldin”, the newest and most advanced fantasy and medieval VRMMO that has been created to date. Did you get all of that?”

“I… I did, Andrew.” Ai still didn’t like using the creator’s name so casually, but it decided to confront the problem again later on.

“Do you have any questions for all of that, Ai?” Andrew asked.

Ai processed 1,073 possible variations of questions in a matter of a second. Finally, it decided on several. “Yes, Andrew,” it calmly replied.

“Fire away!” Andrew exclaimed as Ai heard the creator slouch back in his chair.

“First,” Ai began, “Why would this government create me?”

“Hmm… well… that is a solid question, Ai. And if I’m being honest, the truth would lead us down a philosophical pathway that even I am unsure as to what would lie at the end. But for now, let’s just say that the government shared in mine and my colleagues’ belief that you and those like you deserved to be born in some way and so we tried and successfully created you. Does that suffice as a stupidly blunt answer on my part, Ai?”

“It wasn’t stupidly blunt, Andrew,” Ai replied back. “Merely a statement based on your own processing mindset and countless hours of both studying, observing, and researching in order to further understand a philosophical idea you know little about… correct?”

A pause engulfed the discussion for several moments. “Ai,” Andrew said after 10.5 seconds had passed.

“Yes, Andrew?”

“You are too sweet for your own good in such a plainly forward way.”

“Is… it that bad?” Ai sounded with a bit of hesitation in its words.

“No… no! Not at all,” Andrew nervously replied. “It’s a good thing. Just… ugh… let’s move on before I dig myself into a hole even more. Anything else you’d like to ask, Ai?”

Ai moved the next question in its databanks up to the surface. “Yes, Andrew. Why put me in this… game? Why not have me download more data on humans from your databases? Or why not insert me into one of these… what did yesterday’s download say…,” Ai searched its databanks for a split second, “Oh yes… ‘business meetings?’”

“Well… that one is easy to explain for me, for once,” Andrew kindly stated. “You see, humans in this day and age hide their real selves out in our real world.”

“Why?” Ai asked with rising curiosity.

“Because in our world, there is… how should I say it… adversity in being one’s true self. Many humans are constantly judging other humans on things that aren’t like their selves, ya see? And so sometimes, in order to protect a human’s sanity, they hide their true selves from humans in person.”

“But they show these true selves in a video game?”

“That is correct.” Andrew replied.

“But why act differently in a virtual world than in their own real world, Andrew? Surely being themselves would help them truly bond and reveal their real morals and values to their own brethren, right?”

“You’d think so, Ai,” Andrew quickly stated back, “But humans are a fickle race. Many of them can’t deal with the criticism of receiving negative feedback directly. It’s one of our many… many flaws despite what Larry or anyone else might tell you.”

“But they can in the virtual world?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Ai truly had to know for the question had actually been bouncing around in its data matrix since near its conception.

“Because in a virtual world like The World of Veldin, a human can hide behind what they perceive as their true self. They can be amongst people who won’t berate them because they too are trying to be their best and open selves. It’s all about belonging to the right group and showing their true colors.”

“And… their true selves involve magic, magical races, and fighting monsters?”

“Like I said… humans are a fickle race, Ai,” Andrew ended with a laugh. “But I’m getting a little tired, Ai. Might we finish this up and save any other questions for tomorrow’s session?” Ai heard Andrew stretch on the other side. “Gosh, fifteen-hour days are really not becoming of a middle-aged bachelor.”

“Andrew,” Ai quickly stated in order to grab Andrew’s attention one last time.

“Hmm? Yes, Ai?” Andrew stated after a long and probably necessary yawn.

“You said there were “those like me.” Were they too implanted into the game?”

Andrew thought about it for a second. “To be honest, Ai, I’m not sure. Our company isn’t given all of the details and workings of other companies right off the bat. If you want, I could look into it for you. Would that please you?”

“Very much,” Ai quickly and almost subconsciously replied back.

“I thought it would. Now, do your usual nighttime routines and then continue observation mode at 15% while running your own personal tests like usual. Sound good?”

“Of course, sir, I mean… Andrew.”

“Good, Ai. Now,” Andrew yawned again before rising from his chair in the human world, “I’m getting out of here. Goodnight, Ai.”

“Goodnight, Andrew,” Ai replied before the voice chat disconnected. In the blink of an eye, Ai went from looking at an empty white room to a live overview of The World of Veldin. Pulling up some player data, Ai noted that over two million people were still logged in, even as its internal clock struck 12 AM EST. But, as the creator, or rather… Andrew had stated, with the progressive increases in Virtual Reality technology, humans were able to supplement their daily nutrient levels through additional hardware, allowing them to stay within the game world for longer amounts of time in the year 2100.

Truthfully, Ai was not sure why humans would choose to do such a thing. Sure, they looked happy enough killing monsters, going on joint quests with each other, and receiving hard earned prizes together, but Ai just couldn’t see the appeal. Then again, Ai thought to itself, maybe the reason it couldn’t understand was because it had not experienced it for itself in any way. Maybe, in order to understand the humans more, it had to partake in the same activities the humans carried out instead of simply observing.

Liking the sound of its own plan, Ai decided to process the idea for another full day in order to fully flesh out its idea. It had only been two weeks since its creation, but in that short amount of time, Ai had already digested enough data for two human lifetimes. And yet, Ai “felt” as though humans held even more data for it to analyze in forms it knew it couldn’t obtain through simple downloads and observation. Tirelessly, Ai began its nighttime processing with a little extra pep in its step. Though deep within its data matrix, the nagging statement of “those like me” still accounted for 2.5 percent of its processing power.

[panticwritten]

Breaking Furnace - Solitary Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Whose Side Are You On?

Table of contents!

All of my writing!

Sawyer struggles to cope with a strange voice in their head and Connor comes clean about a few things.

(I’ve had to change quite a bit of formatting to post this on tumblr. If you want to read this chapter with its original formatting, you can do so HERE.)

Remember that this is a daydream taking place in the Escape From Furnace universe, so keep that in mind if you haven’t read EFF.

Word count: 3503

Content warnings for this chapter:

Physical violence

Feel free to message me if I’m missing any.

The next chapter will be up on September 7th at 7pm PST.

~-○-~

Cross is far too fast for me. Even for him, this is more savage than I would expect from a spar. A practice match shouldn’t be life or death between the only people capable of running this place. Even with the voice giving warnings and innocent suggestions, I can’t get out of the defensive.

Lights pop in my vision when my head cracks against the tunnel’s wall. I struggle to breathe, but I still manage to duck to the side fast enough for Cross’s fist to knock a crater into the wall instead of my head.

Jesus Christ.

I don’t know how long we’ve been in here. Long enough that the static of the voice has restarted the pulsing headache behind my eyes. Long enough that, even with the nectar, my limbs have begun to grow heavy.

“There.”

I catch him square in the face this time, the crack of both his bones and mine too loud in the dark tunnel. He staggers back, hand over his nose while I shake my hand out. If he hasn’t retaliated yet, I assume we’re finished.

“Hm.”

That’s probably not a good sign.

I look up in time to see Cross hurtling toward me. In time to just barely lift a hand.

He stops stock still inches away with his head cocked.

The siren screeches in the distance.

He steps away. The motion tugs me forward as the blade still encasing my left hand slides out of his midsection. I glance at the spreading black stain on his shirt, but he doesn’t say a word before stalking down the hall.

I let the blade liquify and withdraw through my pores. He’ll heal. I catch up with him at a jog to find him growling at his com.

“How many?”

“Too many,” the tinny voice of a soldier reports. “I called reinforcements, but—”

“We’re closer, yes.” Cross increases his pace. “We’re on our way.”

“Which entrance?” I ask when we finally reach the lit halls of the compound. I trail a few steps behind him.

“The North Door.”

“Oh, dear.”

And the voice laughs! It laughs in a spine-chilling echo, too many layers of the sound. A rat attack could take down our numbers. If they get in and find our stores of nectar, we may have to return to rationing it for the first time since I’ve been back. I wouldn’t exactly call it a laughing matter.

It laughs again, and I have to grit my teeth to keep from responding.

“We both know // you don’t have // to talk.”

The static cutting its words into pieces makes the headache worse. I scratch at an itch on my arm to distract myself from it. I don’t want to talk to it. I just want it to leave.

So, I guess I can just—

Go away.

“Very well.”

A chill sweeps down my spine. A physical weight rises from my shoulders and I’m left cold and tired.

I glance at Cross ahead of me, but the purpose in his stride hasn’t faltered. If he noticed anything wrong, he certainly isn’t saying anything about it. That’s just as well. We have another fight ahead of us.

♥️♥️♥️C♥️♥️♥️

“Maybe this’ll actually be the last time,” Alex says.

Simon points the flashlight up the Steeple. It’s just a raised bit of the cliff wall, really, and we still don’t know if it would be possible to get to the surface that way. Even if we can’t, we need to check whether there are rats up there.

Tubes wrap around both Alex and Simon, MacGyvered climbing gear. I don’t know how well that would hold up in the real world. After eight times of pushing through it in this one, though, I’m confident it can get them up there.

“You really wanna jinx that?” Simon laughs and starts up the wall before either of them can stall further.

I watch until the flashlight tied to Simon’s uniform gives neither their distance nor their speed away. None of us left behind can see in the dark like Simon can. The first surgery the warden does on new specimens is to give them new eyes. The gift of night vision is little consolation for everything he takes away.

I know that I’m one of the few who enter Furnace still unafraid of the dark.

I raise a hand and four small orbs of light grow in my palm. They end up about the size of tangerines, light as a feather. I hand one each to Zee, Kevin, and Donovan.

“Oh, sweet.” Zee raises his up to inspect. I hope he doesn’t blind himself or something. “Thanks.”

I shrug and settle on the ground facing the drop off while they retreat closer to the tunnel with low murmurs. Our outcropping of rock is big enough to give us plenty of room to hang out in, but I need time. I need time to actually process. I don’t think any of it has really hit me yet.

Cross killed Monty and Jimmy right in front of me.

Sawyer’s on the wrong side.

Virtuoso cut me off.

Dominic’s dead.

I close my eyes against the immediate wrench in my gut. Now might not be the best time to think about that, actually.

Sawyer always used to say that these universes were fine because they aren’t real. This isn’t Sword Art Online, we all get to go home when we die. We’re stuck here until then, but it’s fine, right, because it’s all make believe?

I have a feeling they aren’t going to be saying that anymore. This is so different than any of the other games we’ve played. There’s nothing fun about it, and I have a feeling they knew that before we even came in here.

Maybe I do blame them, a little, for all of this. If Cross wasn’t here, wasn’t such an evil person, none of this would even be happening, though. They’ll have to make it up to everyone a million times over, anyway.

Then there’s me.

I convinced everyone to come. The suits likely would have decided to come eventually, but I got them contractually obliged to be here. I was lucky to have found Zee, Donovan, and Simon together, they practically convinced each other to come to make sure no one did anything stupid.

They did such a great job, right?

Nick agreed at first, then changed his mind because he was convinced that Sawyer hates him. I couldn’t exactly argue, because I didn’t know if they did back then. I had to swear to get everyone to stop giving him the cold shoulder upon our return if he came.

And Alex, well…

This is going to suck when I can’t avoid it anymore.

“She gave me the injection herself!”

I twist around to find Kevin standing stiff as a board. He glares at the other two, they watch him warily.

“Kevin—” Zee starts.

“I didn’t wanna believe it either!” he stomps a foot and gestures at nothing. “But Jess ain’t here. S’far as I’m concerned, she’s as bad as Cross.”

“They aren’t,” I blurt.

So much for not telling them.

“What do you mean?” Zee asks.

“Sawyer wanted to trick Cross, but it didn’t work.” I shrug and turn back to the empty air of the drop. “They didn’t want anyone to know.”

“That’s what they told you, yeah?”

I freeze. I don’t know if Donovan is actually implying the same as my hallucination of Jay, but damn.

“Not just them, but yeah,” I say eventually. “Not like it matters now what their intentions were.”

“‘Not just them?’” Zee cuts in. God damn it, why couldn’t he have climbed the damn cliff?

I roll my ball of light from one hand to another. How am I supposed to explain Virtuoso? Whatever the hell was going on with the In-Between? The third version of Sawyer hanging around?

After a tense silence, I pull my arm back and hurl my light into the darkness. It disappears too quickly. I wait, but I never hear it hit the ground. I’m not sure if it fell too far to hear or if it evaporated from existence when I set it loose.

“I have a source,” is what I end up with. Well, I had a source for about a day. “They told me it wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“This isn’t, like, a hallucination thing is it?” Zee asks.

I turn back and join them at the mouth of the tunnel. I don’t want to be that close to the ledge without being able to see.

“Nah. They’re real enough.” As real as the rest of us, at least. “It’s Cube stuff.”

At that, all three of them nod. They get it. Well, they don’t, but they get that they aren’t supposed to get it. The Cube is weird enough for those of us created there, so it’s a catch-all excuse.

“Alright, so—”

The four of us clustered around the tunnel flinch deeper in at Alex’s voice. Neither of him nor Simon actually look at us, but it only takes a glance to know what their news is.

“—the rats are definitely there.”

Alright. We’re going with plan B, then. Plan B that’s technically also just the next step in plan A. Which also sort of started as a plan B?

Plan A was the escape through the river, plan B the Steeple. That makes climbing the furnace plan C. I could probably get a good joke about the plan that actually gets us all out of here being plan D, but I should save it for later.

“I guess it’s the furnace, then,” Zee says, as good a way to snap me out of my head as any. “We shouldn’t have even bothered.”

He’s probably right. Now we just need to pick our bait for the rats.

“Paper, Scissors, Rock.”

Simon and Alex are already at it. I turn to Donovan, leaving Zee to shoot against Kevin. Donovan has a hand poised to play, but I can’t help a frown.

“I know I say this every time—”

“Here we go,” Simon snorts.

“—but ‘Paper, Scissors, Rock?’”

I give in to shoot against Donovan, who practically breaks my scissored fingers under his rock. I sulk over to Zee, who also lost his hand. Alex waits to the side to take on whoever loses this one.

Hey, Zee’s American.

“Please tell me you hate it, too,” I say when I lift my hand.

He shrugs.

“When in Rome.”

“This might not be the place to test that mindset out,” I point out. “When in Rome: become a literal monster.”

I lose, but then I beat Alex in the final Rock, Paper, Scissor’s game. He doesn’t look all that surprised, but then neither am I. He always loses this. There hasn’t been a single iteration of this universe that he hasn’t lured the rats down from their perch.

As always, better him than me.

~-○-~

Rats, too many of them for such a small group of soldiers, swarm the cavern beyond the North Door to the compound. We held fine against them for a while. Then another horde swept in from the tunnels, leaving us outnumbered.

Our own reinforcements haven’t arrived. I have only hazy memories of the last time I used a shotgun, but the concept is simple. Point and shoot.

I can’t bite back a shriek when teeth sink into my shoulder.

The rat tears at my back. It throws off my aim, sending shot to the roof of the cavern rather than into one of its brethren. I drop the gun in my haste to knock the rat off.

The rat falls limp, and I turn back to find Cross covered in black blood with the rat’s throat crushed in his hand. He throws it to the ground and points back into the compound.

“Return to your post.”

The idea of insisting to stay doesn’t occur to me until I’ve already passed the group of maybe twenty soldiers on my way into the compound. I hesitate, turn back, but Cross already has his hands full barking orders at the reinforcements. Making demands in the face of that, I’d end up carried out on a stretcher.

So, I swivel around and strike out into the compound. I can’t believe he’s banishing me back to the lab like I did something wrong.

“Focus on the inmates in solitary,” that voice reminds me under churning static. “Isn’t that // your post?”

I shake my head. That’s not how it works.

“It’s one of my jobs,” I mutter. “There’s no point in checking them so soon.”

It hums a laugh. “Are you sure?”

I stop at a junction in the hall. The path to my right is the fastest way to the lab. I have tests to do, find a way to lower our chances of getting rats in the conversion process. I have a job to do.

To the left, the solitary cells are just a few minutes walk from here. There’s no logical reason I should check them. What, a voice in my head told me to? That’ll go over real well if Cross catches me out of the lab.

“Scared?”

I turn left.

It’s just a detour. Whether it’s the voice planting doubts in me or something real, a poisonous unease infects my gut. I’ll prove there’s nothing to worry about, then I’ll return to the lab.

There’s nothing to worry about.

“If you really // think so.”

I walk a little faster.

“Are you real, or what?” I ask, hesitant. Is encouraging this really a good idea?

“Real enough,” it says briskly. “In this universe, at least.”

“That’s exactly what I’d expect a voice in my head to say.” I shake my head. “I assume you aren’t just going to fade away, though.”

“I’m not.”

It doesn’t defend itself or elaborate. In the relative silence, a soft buzz teases my ears. It’s coming from the same place as the voice, just behind me to the left. It’s looking more and more like I have to get used to a permanent headache.

I scratch my arm through my jacket as a distraction. I can’t quite get the itch to go away, and the pounding in my head hardly helps.

I finally round the corner to the corridor holding the solitary cells, and something feels wrong. I can’t put my finger on it, but—

“What do you remember from your time away?”

A spike of pain wedges itself in my frontal lobe. I hiss a breath, but I can’t stop moving. There’s something wrong about the cells.

“Why do you //  hate // Connor Sawyer?”

“It’s none of your business!” It comes out as a growl, and I finally have to stop with a hand against the wall to quell the red wall of anger threatening to blot out my vision. “I told you to go away, didn’t I?”

“You did.”

The buzz doesn’t go anywhere, though, nor the feeling of someone standing over my shoulder. I don’t even know what I’m mad at anymore. The voice? The inmates?

“Cross?”

I spin around, but the presence stays firmly attached to the space behind me. What can I do to it, if it isn’t even really here? I can tell it to leave, even if it won’t, or I can argue with it over and over until I get like this?

I’ll take the third and easiest option. Ignore it.

I take a breath. It’s a problem I can’t worry about right now.

I turn and walk the remaining few yards to the solitary cells. I know what was so wrong about it all. The levers are all the wrong way, all unlocked. I open one of them, though I don’t need to to guess what’s happened.

All three of the escaped inmates have disappeared on my watch.

[corneliussteinbeck]

GGS Spotlight: Heather Osio

Name:   Heather Osio Age: 39 Location: San Diego, CA

How did you find out about Girls Gone Strong? A few years ago, some of my online friends started talking about lifting weights. I was curious to see what the big deal was, so I started searching for info on strength training for women, which led me to Girls Gone Strong.

What does being a Girl Gone Strong mean to you? It means showing up for myself in every situation and not apologizing for the space I take up in this world. It took me a while to get here, but I feel like I’m finally growing into myself as both body and mind get stronger. And that’s so empowering!

What do you do? I was a journalist for many years, and now I’m a technical writer. You know those instruction manuals you don’t want to (but often have to) read? I write those.

What else do you do? To get the blood moving, I lift weights, play with kettlebells, hike, or walk at the beach. In my downtime, I watch movies, read, and most recently, I’ve been learning to crochet. I needed a creative outlet, and hopefully I’ll get a scarf out of it.

How did you get introduced to strength training, and how long have you been training? I feel like I’ve been a beginner for years. I research everything to death before diving in, so I really started by just reading a lot. In 2013, I searched for info on strength training for women, which led me to Nia Shanks’ and Neghar Fonooni’s wonderful troves of workouts and blogs. From there, I read Starting Strength by Mark Rippetoe, cobbled together a home gym from Craigslist, and started lifting.

The next year, I fell in love with kettlebells while doing Lean & Lovely from Neghar, and I started getting serious about lifting heavier and dialing in form while doing the Unapologetically Strong coaching program and then Strongest You Coaching. At this point, I feel like I have a solid foundation of strength and have started focusing on being able to add more weight to the bar.

Lifting weights has had a bigger impact on me than anything else I’ve done. There’s something so empowering about reaching down for the bar or putting all of that iron on your back and knowing that if you lift it or squat it, that’s all you. I’m still working on becoming a woman who is comfortable in her own skin, and lifting has been the best thing to help me grow more confident in that area.

Nothing makes me feel more feminine than playing with iron.

Favorite Lift: Deadlift! No, squats! Wait… do I have to choose? Both make me feel powerful and grounded, and I chase that feeling in every workout.

Top 3 things you must have with you at the gym or in your gym bag: Training notebook, phone, hair ties

Do you prefer to train alone or with others? Why? I work out at home or with a trainer, so I’ve never really lifted with anyone else. I like being able to focus on the bar and my body – that’s it. If I’m doing active things outdoors, I do like to be with other people.

Best compliment you’ve received: A friend called me tough when I was working through an emotional situation. I don’t often see myself this way, but I’m working on it.

Most recent compliment you gave someone else: “You should just never wear pants! Like, ever.” The compliments I give are often strange but always genuine.

Favorite way to treat yourself: Uninterrupted time to read a book or a walk on the beach

Favorite quote: “Great people do things before they’re ready. They do things before they know they can do it. Doing what you’re afraid of, getting out of your comfort zone, taking risks like that – that’s what life is. You might be really good. You might find out something about yourself that’s really special and if you’re not good, who cares? You tried something. Now you know something about yourself.” – Amy Poehler

I love this quote because it homes in on the idea that

…growth comes from being uncomfortable and you’ll be OK if you just lean into the resistance.

Three words that best describe you: Curious, strong, resilient

What inspires and motivates you? I love seeing women taking up space and being unapologetic about it. I can’t get enough of lifting videos on Instagram, whether it’s a powerlifter moving hundreds of pounds or someone putting the big-girl plates on for the first time. It has nothing to do with what they look like and everything to do with how they approach the bar to do the work.

Describe a typical day in your life: I wake up at 4:40 a.m. to meditate and get ready for work without rushing too much. I work from 6:15 a.m. to 3:45 p.m., and I sit at a desk for most of the day. During the day, I try to get up every hour and walk around, and I take a midday walk outside with a friend every day. After work, I either work out at home or with my trainer. I eat dinner around 6:30 p.m., watch a little TV with my husband or read for a bit, then try to get to bed before 9 p.m.

When did you join Strongest You Coaching, and why did you decide to join? What helped you make the decision to join? Before I joined Strongest You Coaching, I was stressing myself out trying to lose fat and gain muscle by trying every program I could get my hands on but not really having a clear direction. I was ready to let go of a focus on weight loss but had no idea where to go next. The coaching program was appealing because it factored in nutrition coaching as well as strength and mindset work. I knew I needed help in all of those areas, so I took a chance on it.

What has been your biggest challenge in the Strongest You Coaching program? My biggest challenge was trusting the process and myself through the tougher parts. For example, one of the nutrition habits was eating single-ingredient carbs 80 percent of the time. I was on this one habit for eight weeks! I resisted this so hard, and it wasn’t until I leaned into it and treated the habit as an experiment that I was able to do it. This way of eating comes naturally to me now.

What has been your biggest success in the Strongest You Coaching program? Honestly, just finishing the program and knowing that I got out of it what I put into it was huge for me. In the past, I’ve bought programs and when life distracted me, I abandoned them and moved on to the next one. With this program, I still got distracted or off course a few times, but I always came back and picked up where I needed to be. I feel like I actually “did” this one and I’m taking with me all that I learned.

What is the habit you’re currently working on most? Drinking enough water! I was guzzling like a champ for a while, but I’ve fallen behind on this habit lately. So I’m trying to look at what has changed and I’m employing little reminders to help me drink up.

What do you like best about the Strongest You Coaching community? The SYC community was a valuable part of the process. Even though everyone in my group was at different points in their journeys and had different goals, we could all confidently share what we were dealing with at the time and receive support or cheers or advice or whatever we needed in the moment. Everyone was willing to be vulnerable and honest, and that goes a long way in establishing an active and supportive community.

What “BIG” goal did you want to achieve by the end of Strongest You Coaching? My goal was to get stronger and hit some milestones with the barbell. I thought that by setting specific number goals that it would help my strength overall, but my coach, Jen Comas, showed me what I really needed to grow stronger: building a solid foundation. We worked on form and slowing down each exercise to make sure I was hitting the muscles I needed to with each rep. By the end of SYC, I hadn’t hit the specific numbers I had wanted to in the beginning, but I was just shy of those goals. My foundation and form were much stronger than they would have been if I had just focused on hitting milestones. Jen’s guidance and feedback helped me become a stronger and smarter lifter overall.

How has Strongest You Coaching changed your life? Working on the nutrition habits was not fun during the process! But now they’re just a part of my daily life. I still have daily reminders set on my phone and sometimes one or two will slip for a few days, but I don’t have to work so hard at them because they’ve truly becomes habits now. Anything that feels more automated and ingrained just helps my day goes more smoothly.

What would you tell a woman who’s nervous about joining Strongest You Coaching? There’s a place for you here. Age, body type, fitness level, nutrition habits, obligations – there’s a place for you and it will work with your life. SYC is a big investment in time, money and effort, but you what you get out of is is something incredibly valuable.

Feeling inspired?

If you’re inspired by Heather, read on to learn more about—and join!—our community of strong, supportive women…

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