#oh no the anime process! no body stopped it they’re evolved even more into anime creachers

[seagull-scribbles]

They’re out of time (cancelled)

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[piecksz]

starstruck | (m)

pairings: rockstar!eren yeager x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, penetrative sex, fingering, creampie, roughness, drug use, explicit language

words: 4.4k+

summary: you and your friend decide to sneak backstage at your band’s favorite concert and the vip treatment you recieve is more than you bargained for.

inspired by 

a/n: you know the drill :p obey (with YUNGBLUD) by bring me the horizon it’s literally not a sexy song so don’t go in listening to it expectin to get horny LMAOO it’s just the kind of sound i imagined eren’s band to have, but it was sexy to me bc the image of rockstar eren tormented me the entire time i wrote this 

“I can’t believe I agreed to this. This is fucking crazy.” Your friend’s voice was a fidgety whisper behind you. Her face’s close proximity to the back of your neck had her heavy expiration fanning over your nape every time she opened her mouth to reprimand herself for allowing you to beguile her into illegal trespassing.

“You’re fucking crazy,” she whispered again, tugging the leather sleeve of your jacket with a pesky grip.

You shrugged her touch off of your arm and took a brief glimpse over your shoulder to offer her a sour look. “Can you be quiet? You freaking out is making us look suspicious.” You whisked your head back around, peering around the corner of the vacant merch tent.

“No, us creeping around to sneak onto a fucking tour bus is making us look suspicious,” she retorted.

The corner of your mouth tightened at your friend’s concern and you lifted your hand to give her a dismissive wave. You were astounded when she had originally agreed to your brazen proposal, although it took minutes of incessant pleading for her to actually give in. Her veiled reluctance surfaced the minute you two had separated from the concert’s crowd at the end of the show and snuck around the stage to the back of the venue. What began as her unease and quiet suggestions that maybe your idea wasn’t so smart, intensified into irritating nagging. You gave her the option to turn around and wait for you back at the car, but as your companion, she sighed and remarked that something so stupid couldn’t be done alone.

“I see it,” you said eagerly and with a proud grin. The vehicle was stationed a decent distance from where the two of you had been standing, but you measured the stretch with your eyes and figured that if you walked quickly enough, you’d be able to make it on without being caught.

“How do we even know they’re on it?” Your friend craned her head past yours to get a better view of what you saw.

“We don’t. I’m just guessing.”

“Oh great, that’s exactly the answer I wanted.” She released a tense and quiet laugh before retreating back behind the screen of the tent.

You surveyed the security guards as they patrolled back and forth along the premises, waiting until the coast was clear. Once you noticed an opening, you forcefully grabbed your friend’s wrist, ignoring her silent grunt of protest, and pulled her along. She stumbled into your stride and peered over at you, doing her best to follow your quick feet while mirroring your nonchalant guise.

Closer and closer, the two of you neared the tour bus until it had to have been only yards away. You tried to remain composed through your excitement, making sure you didn’t break your character. No fucking way your plan had actually gone off without a hitch, it almost seemed too easy.

“Hey!”

You kept walking. Maybe the exclamation wasn’t for you, but once the holler was thrown again, your body went rigid, and the tempo of your steps slowed until you stopped in your tracks. The adrenaline that commanded your legs had been substituted for lead and it kept your feet pinned to the ground. You couldn’t even run.

“Hey, you two aren’t supposed to be back here.”

You blinked once, long and hard, before pivoting on your heel. You watched, mortified, as a burly security guard started in your direction and got closer until he loomed over you both with a threatening advantage in height.

He looked even angrier now that you could see the way his thick eyebrows creased together and created a ripple of lines above them that disappeared into a bald head. His hefty arms were crossed against his chest while he glowered down at you two, waiting to hear a story. You could tell your excuse wouldn’t matter though, it was obvious he wasn’t in the mood for jocular conversation.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, we were looking for the bathroom,” you explained, clasping your hands together and feigning an apologetic smile. You turned your head from side to side, looking around innocently to sell your lie, and then looked back up at the guard with a nervous laugh. “And I guess it’s not here.”

Your friend shook her head and said nothing, but you were certain she was drawing up a creative speech in her head, wondering how she would tell you that she “told you so” this time.

“Nice try.” The guard curled his lip angrily. “Come on.” He reached out a thick hand and wrapped it around your bicep while grabbing the back of your friend’s shirt with a crude yank. Your eyes went wide at his hostile grip and you jerked your arm, trying to free yourself of his hold.

“Hey, whoa!” His grip only tightened. “We can walk ourselves!”

The guard forced you two forward, prompting you to walk so he could escort you off the grounds.

“What’s going on?”

You looked up and your writhing ceased. Instead, heat flushed your cheeks and you stood dazed. It didn’t take long before you recognized the owner of the voice because, naturally, you would have been able to recognize him from a mile away, but luckily you didn’t have to. He was right in front of you.

It was Eren, the lead singer and guitarist of the band you had been screaming your heart out to not even an hour ago. He was your favorite member, meaning you’d watched countless interviews and had several pictures of him saved on your phone, but nothing could have prepared you for what he looked like up close. His long brown hair looked like it was still damp with sweat, a sign of his showmanship on stage, and it framed his face in careless wisps and fell loosely past his shoulders. His torso was unclad, showing the dark inkings that adorned his biceps and stretched all the way up his shoulders until they met at the detailed design of wings in the middle of his chest. Dark ripped jeans sat loosely, just below his hips, and teased a peek at deep v-lines that ran underneath the top of his waistband.

You fought off the urge to drop to your knees and pray for how sinfully hot he looked.  

Trailing behind him were his bandmates, Armin and Jean, the band’s other guitarists, and Connie, the band’s drummer. You had never seen such an attractive circle of friends where you would have been satisfied taking any of them, and although you avowed to your friend that Connie was hers since she favored him, you absolutely would’ve allowed him to do whatever he wanted to you.

“Caught these two trying to sneak onto the tour bus.” The security guard thrusted you two ahead with an unsatisfied huff, and you shot him a glare.

Eren’s attention dropped from the security guard’s face and drifted over to your friend first before settling on you, eyes sweeping over your face and falling at half-mast. He arched an eyebrow then averted his gaze from your chest.

“It’s cool, let them go.”

“Are you sure?” The security guard’s grip on you loosened, and you pulled out of his hold the minute you felt him unhand you.

Eren shrugged. “Yeah. They can hang.” He quickly dismissed the security guard and casually sauntered past you before disappearing onto their bus.

You glanced over at your friend who looked like she was still in the process of trying to grasp the situation evolving in front of her.

“What kind of assholes turn away fans?” Jean teased, giving you a warm smile before he lifted his half-empty water bottle to his lips.

Connie switched his drum sticks to one hand and slipped them behind his back into his pocket.  “You guys are fans, right? You’re not trying to steal a couple of used water bottles to sell online are you?”

You took a lengthy pause and waited for your friend to answer, giving her an opportunity to converse with him, but she said nothing. She just rocked back and forth on her feet, staring at the ground timidly to avoid looking Connie in the eye.

“No,” you answered for her. “I mean yes, we’re fans. Big fans. No to trying to sell your DNA.”

Your response earned a chuckle from Armin and a hearty laugh from Connie while he nodded in approval. “Alright.” He tilted his head in the direction of the bus as though encouraging you two on.

You watched as the rest of the members filed inside, and then your friend seized your hand frantically.

“Holy shit. Y/N, holy shit!” She squealed, and you snorted at her sudden ability to talk once again. “You saw him right? You saw him.” It didn’t take much detail for you to gather that she was gushing about Connie.  

“Did you even see him? Your head was down the whole time, you didn’t say a single word to him.”

Your friend’s animated face slackened into a placid expression. “I didn’t trust myself. If I opened my mouth I would have asked him to put me in a headlock.” She exhaled. “Jesus Christ, those arms.” Your goading smile stretched into an amused grin, and you shook your head at your friend’s hysterical behavior.

The inside of the tour bus was much larger than you would have deduced from its seemingly modest exterior. Its floors were dark and polished wood that matched the ceiling, both surfaces lined with subdued yellow light. Aside from the sizable kitchen to your right, large leather couches sat on either side of the lounge area, and stretching to the bus’ rear were dimly lit bunk beds that were half-obscured by a dark curtain.

“Holy shit, this is a house on wheels,” your friend breathed, mouth agape.

“Well we’re on the road most of the time, so it might as well be,” Armin answered, throwing himself into one of the sofas with a labored sigh. He threw his head back in exhaustion and brought his arms up to rest against the top of the couch. “We never caught your names by the way.”

Both you and your friend introduced yourselves, forgoing a proper introduction from the band’s members. You evidently already knew who they were.

Armin smiled. “Nice to meet you guys.”

Jean shuffled through, handing you and your friend a water bottle, which you accepted with much appreciation. You hadn’t taken heed of how thirsty you’d been, and you hadn’t had anything to drink since the concert had started. Even while you swooned in the crowd between sweaty bodies, dehydration threatening to ruin your fun, you’d refused to pay $4 for a beverage.

“Make yourselves at home.” He threw another bottle to Armin.

“Oh no, we’re not planning on staying that long.” Your friend laughed, clutching onto her drink so tightly that the plastic squeaked in her grip.

You nudged her in the ribs with an assertive elbow and said her name quietly through clenched teeth, barely audible enough for the two of you to hear. She looked at you with uncertainty, and you gave her a forced grin.

“Don’t be rude. They said we should make ourselves at home.” You obliged to Jean’s invite, taking a seat in one of the leather cushions.

The situation you were in was a rare opportunity, the type of opportunity you’d only heard from other people, the type of opportunity you’d read fanfiction about in your early adolescence. If anyone told you that you’d be living such an opportunity, you weren’t sure if you’d really believe them, but had you declined to appease your friend’s irrational concern, you knew you’d regret it for years.

“Did you guys enjoy the show?” Connie leaned against the wall of the bus and wedged a rolled stick of paper between his pursed lips. He brought a hand-held lighter to the end of the stick, sparking it a few times with his thumb before a small flame engulfed the thin paper and thick smoke billowed from its tip. It only took a moment before the pungent, herbal stench of marijuana invaded the inside of the tour bus.

“Of course, you guys are amazing.” You nodded, perching yourself up in your seat and clapping your hands together excitedly. “We’ve been trying to see you guys in concert for a long time now.”

Eren fell into the seat beside you, and your body tensed up almost instantly. You’d managed to feign calmness from your first encounter because it had been easy to masquerade your nervousness from a distance, but now that he was even closer, surely he could have heard your heart palpitating against your ribcage. Its beating grew even quicker once Eren sat back and slid his arm behind you to lay it atop the backrest.

“Yeah?” His voice was languid. “What’s your favorite song?”

“That’s a hard question,” you chuckled, suddenly becoming very interested in the sleeves of your jacket. “I seriously don’t know if I can pick just one.” It hadn’t been a hard question at all, but you simply couldn’t think through the smell of his faded cologne and the feeling of his naked chest up against the side of your arm.

“That’s cool,” Eren smiled, but responded plainly. “You smoke?”

Your eyes drifted up to see Eren offering you a partially-burnt joint in between two fingers. He inhaled deeply from his hit and exhaled, a thick white cloud rolling past his lips.

You hadn’t smoked before, and you weren’t an avid consumer of weed. One edible at a party had you manic until your friends had to calm you down in a separate room and reassure you that you weren’t dying, but you still accepted it hesitantly. You brought it to your lips and took a deep draw before erupting into a fit of coughs.

“Easy,” Eren laughed, and his warm hand rubbed the nape of your neck soothingly. He took the joint from your hands and held it towards Armin.

Your chest and throat heaved with the searing sensation of a foreign substance, and your body racked with an incessant wheeze until it was sure it had expelled all of the stuff. Eren beside you thought it was the funniest thing.

“So you guys in college?” Connie asked, this time directing his question to your friend since you clearly couldn’t respond.

She nodded quickly, still avoiding making eye contact with him. He must have noticed and thought it was endearing because the corner of his mouth quirked upward into a knowing smirk.

“Sick,” Eren remarked. “I dropped out of college, but you guys should stay in school, seriously.”

“Don’t worry I have no plans to drop out and become a musician,” you rasped once your coughing subsided.

He paused for a moment and then looked at you. “What about a boyfriend?” His eyes drank you in from bottom to top until he met your clueless stare.

“Do I have a boyfriend?” You blinked, and then the tip of your ears went up in an uncomfortable heat that spread over the side of your face until your skin was aflame with realization. “No.”

“That’s good.” Eren studied you from behind heavy lids and he lingered on your lips, his own spreading into a suggestive grin. “So it’s cool if I do this?”

He leaned in and affixed his lips at the curve of where your jaw met your ear. His mouth was hot and the kiss was wet against your feverish skin. He planted another one lower, against the hollow dip where your neck curved, and then he bent the arm resting behind your head, using his hand to turn your face toward him so that when he tilted himself forward again, he could kiss you without interference. His lips were soft and slow as they commanded your mouth to follow his rhythm, and you withheld a desperate and excited whimper once Eren slipped a seductive tongue past your teeth.

He relaxed another hand on your leg, rubbing slow circles into the top of your thigh while edging closer and closer to the top of your waistband. Once his leisure fingers skimmed over your pants’ button, he skillfully undid the first hole before moving on to your zipper. You made a small sound of protest and pulled back in embarrassment.

“In front of your bandmates?” you questioned in a breathy whisper.

Eren shrugged, looking unfazed. “They don’t care. Nothing they haven’t seen before.”

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest. He was a goddamn celebrity for crying out loud, had you really thought you were the first girl he brought onto the bus to fuck? And he’d done it in front of his bandmates? You shifted uncomfortably, looking to Armin, Jean, and Connie who were now occupied with showing your friend pictures they’d been sent from professional photographers after past shows.  

“I don’t know,” you admitted timidly.

Eren rolled his head to the side, visibly bothered by your response. He glanced over to his bandmates and swept through his locks with a lazy hand. “Hey, why don’t you guys go show her the stage set before they pack up?”

Your friend looked away from the laptop they were gathered around and over her shoulder. “But—.”

Eren’s fingers trailed up and down the side of your neck, clearly eager to resume your previous matters. Were you really about to pass up this chance?

You gave your friend a reassuring thumbs up alongside Eren’s suggestion. “I’ll come find you later.”

It almost seemed like Eren sent his bandmates an unspoken cue, because Connie quickly chimed in before your friend had another turn to object. “Yeah. It’s okay, we’ll take care of you.” He wrapped a tattooed arm around your friend’s shoulder and gave her a friendly shake.

You could almost see the rise and fall of her chest cease, and you actually grew worried for her. It looked like she had nearly died and came back to life, but her stunned face melted into a flustered smile and she laughed sheepishly. “Okay.”

Connie nodded and gave Eren a two finger salute before escorting your friend off the bus with Jean and Armin following closely behind.

Once the door to the bus closed Eren shifted his attention back to you.

“There. Problem solved.” His green eyes had darkened and clouded over with desire again. “You feel better?”

“I guess,” you murmured.

You didn’t get a second chance to speak because Eren’s lips coupled to yours once more, and his hands continued against your zipper before he slipped his fingers into your underwear. He brought two fingers to your slit, skimming lightly over the delicate skin before sliding his middle finger between your folds to part them.

You released a sharp gasp against Eren’s mouth as you felt the cold metal of his rings against your cunt, but he made no efforts to pull away. The earthy taste of marijuana on his tongue caused your head to swim and you began to feel the drug’s intoxicant effects yourself. Your limbs grew heavier as you lay slack against Eren’s body while the sensation of his soft strokes against your tender clit had you whimpering against his lips.

He dipped his finger down to your body’s orifice, sliding it into your hole to glaze the digit with your arousal.

“God, you’re so tight.” Eren’s voice was deep as he pulled away from your mouth and both of you looked down to watch the way he worked you. “I want you around my cock.”

Your hips jerked involuntarily against his hand with the mention of his desire, and he brought his touch back up to your clit, using your essence as lubrication. The bus was quiet except for the symphony of Eren’s husky pants and your lewd whines as he slowly quickened the pace when he felt your body begin to tremble against his.

“Fuck, Eren—,” you mewled. You hadn’t even given thought to how unusual his name sounded coming out of your mouth. Eren, the singer and lead guitarist of your favorite band had his fingers inside of your pants, and here you were moaning his name. “Oh fuck—.”

Your orgasm intensified quickly after its onset, you hadn’t even realized you were climaxing until your body was convulsing and your fingers were digging into Eren’s biceps.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—Eren—,” you cried.

“That’s it,” Eren cooed. “Atta girl.”

His fingers continued working against your clit until you wrapped a sweaty hand around his wrist, a silent plea for him to stop before he sent you into overstimulation.

He hummed in amusement and heeded your request before pulling his hands out of your underwear. Now he worked his hands against his own belt, unfastening the buckle before pushing his jeans down with his briefs in one swift and eager motion. His cock was half-hard and continued growing rigid after he took himself in his hand and began pumping his throbbing length.  

You watched in wonderment as his palm worked painfully slow against his thick shaft, and pearls of precum gathered at his tip before dribbling down his swollen head. Your own dirty fantasies where you’d tried to envision how big Eren was hardly did him justice.

You rose to your feet, kicking off your shoes with haste, and stepped out of your pants. You shrugged off your jacket as well, realizing how uncomfortably sticky your sweaty arms felt against the leather material.

“Come here,” Eren hummed, and released his cock. He held his hands out for you to take, and he pulled you onto his lap. He supported your waist until your knees were mounted on either side of his thighs, and you pulled your underwear to the side, allowing his pulsating tip to prod your entrance.

“You gonna show me how well you ride?” he asked, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips.

You nodded, resting your hands on his shoulders and undulating your wet folds against his cock. You released a desperate whimper every time he nudged your clit.

“Yeah? Show me.”

Eren watched as you slipped him in, and what started as a whine deepened into an obscene cry while you felt him stretch your walls out. You eased down until you sat at the base of his cock and he’d filled you to the hilt.

You dug your teeth into your lower lip, waiting to adjust to his girth before you slowly started moving up and down. Eren’s shallow breathing encouraged you while you lifted yourself up and then back down, each time releasing an agonizing sob.

“Good girl.” Eren’s large hands traveled up from your waist and rested on your chest. “Just like that.” He loosely cupped his hands over your clothed chest, adoring the way your quickening pace caused your breasts began to jounce underneath your shirt, but your ache to feel his touch everywhere along your skin became uncontrollable.

Your fingers curled around the hem of your top and you quickly slipped the material off, tossing it onto the couch beside you. You did the same with your bra, too impatient to fumble around with the pesky hooks.

Eren grinned lazily, before resting his palms against your breasts and giving them a small jiggle. He leaned forward, lolling his tongue out, and flicked its tip against the hardening bead of your nipple. He looked up at you with half-lidded eyes and smiled at the way you murmured his name before rolling his thumb over the wet skin.

“So fucking hot,” Eren praised. He gave your other breast a brisk slap, watching it shake with the impact, and then he took you in his mouth. He sucked hungrily before taking your nipple between his teeth and tugged on it.

You continued bouncing on Eren’s cock before he released a guttural groan and threw his head back. “Fuck, don’t stop.” The tattoos along his sweaty chest expanded with each uneven breath. “I’m gonna cum.”

Eren’s hands traveled down to your ass, and black-painted nails dug into your skin while he directed you up and down. You rolled your hips against him until you felt his cock jerk inside you, and then he was filling you up.

Eren unloaded himself into you and your walls fluttered around his quivering length. His balls spasmed, making sure he’d jettisoned every drop of thick, white cum. He pulled his cock out before your knees gave way and you collapsed next to him. Your pussy clenched around nothing, still adjusting to Eren’s absence, and you felt his release leak out of your hole.

You heaved, eyes strung tightly, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You had to have been dreaming. You kept your eyes closed, fearing that you’d wake, but they fluttered open instinctively when you felt Eren’s weight lift from beside you.

“Where are you going?” You watched as he tugged his pants up and fastened his buckle before shuffling around the bus looking for something. Jesus Christ, just how much stamina did this guy have?

“Your friend’s probably wondering what’s taking you so long,” Eren replied, disappearing behind the curtain leading to the bedroom in the back of the bus.

Your hand flew to your forehead and you sat up, feeling guilty that you had completely forgotten your friend. Knowing her, she was probably worrying herself sick wondering what Eren had possibly done to you. You started retrieving your clothes and getting dressed, but you paused momentarily, calling out to wherever Eren had been on the bus.

“I should give you my number.” You stuck a leg into your pants. “You know, just to keep in touch.” You stuck your other leg in and hopped around, pulling your pants up.

Eren reappeared from behind the curtain, tugging on a fitted black t-shirt. “Don’t worry about that.”

You popped your head out from under your shirt and reached for your jacket. You laughed lightly and gave him a confused look.

“Safety and shit. We can’t give our personal information out to just anyone.” He gave you a pitiful smile, but you could tell it was more for you than for him.

“Oh,” you responded quietly.

Eren seemed unconcerned with the guidelines he was given, as though he didn’t care much about whether he even remembered your name once they were on the road again.

“Don’t look so sad babe. You’re lucky.” He tilted his head toward you and raised his eyebrows. “Not everyone gets to fuck a rockstar.”

[whorecruxriddles]

first of all your username is A+ pls can I get a story where Tom uses the reader for sex and she lets him because she’s in love with him but after he refuses to date her seriously she ends things with him only for him to realise he’s been in love with her all along and wins her back

thank youuuu, i’m pretty proud of it!

also i loved this request so much, ahhhhhh

-

It had started out with an innocent kiss when you were fourteen. Your first kiss actually, though it hadn’t been Tom’s. He still made it feel special, told you it had been special.

Now, at sixteen, that stupid kiss had evolved into this; grinding against the wall of Tom’s prefect dormitory, his tongue practically down your throat as his fingers gripped bruises into your skin for what felt like the tenth time this week.

It was exciting, you liked it but something about your rendezvous always felt...hallow. Sure, Tom was always courteous, made sure that you felt safe, taken care of. If you were in his room, he’d even let you use his shower. But you worried that there was never any emotion other than the boy’s unrelenting anger behind it.

Your entire relationship with Tom was built around sneaking around, fucking where nobody would see him with you. He never held your hand or had a proper discussion with you in front of his friends. Everytime he enticed you with the notion of a real date, it ended with you blowing him in the bathroom at the Three Broomsticks or having sex on top of the homework he’d promised to help you with.

He was using you. But you knew that. You just didn’t want to believe it. Not when every beck and call made your heart flutter so.

Tom moved from your lips to your neck, immediately going for the spot just under your ear, knowing how much you liked it. You shivered, sighing a little and when he got the reaction he wanted, he moved on. You became hyper aware of his hand moving up your body, making to feel you up. Something in your stomach suddenly felt knotted and you pushed on his chest.

“Tom, stop.” You whispered, not loud enough for him to hear at first. His hand kept trailing and you caught his wrist, “Tom, stop it.”

This time he pulled away, a look of confusion and annoyance on his face. He studied you for a split second, trying to read what was wrong.

“Are you...W-what exactly are we?”

“What are we doing?” Tom repeated, narrowing his eyes at you. He chuckled coolly, “I thought it was rather obvious?”

You shifted under his gaze, suddenly embarrassed that you had asked such a thing. No, that was just Tom trying to put that in your head. You had all the right to ask, “I was just wondering since we’ve been doing, you know, this for a while now and I-I...”

Realization hit the Slytherin, leaving a cruel smirk in it’s wake.

“Do you have feelings for me, (y/n)?”

Oh Merlin, your cheeks felt as though they were on fire and you were resisting the urge to cry. When you didn’t answer, Tom leaned down, his lips nearly touching your ear, “Love is a weakness, my silly girl. People die for love. I have no intention of dying.”

Rolling your eyes, you squirmed out of his grip, shoving him away. Grabbing your school bag and house tie off his desk, you headed for the door but now before turning on your heels to glare at him.

“Then I don’t want to be your little doll anymore, Tom. Just leave me alone.”

And with that, you left, slamming the door behind you. You strutted past two of Riddle’s goons, Avery and Lestrange, who no doubt had been trying to listen in on your make out session with Tom. Both of their mouths were open, as if they hadn’t been expecting you to leave the one and only Tom Riddle high and dry, but you simply turned your nose up at them.

You didn’t even let anyone see you cry until you were back in your own room.

-

Three weeks had past since you broke things off with Tom. You were trying your best to avoid him at all costs, but that was difficult when it seemed that everyone was always pointing him out to you. Of course, for Tom, who specialized in coldness and cruelty, ignoring you had come easier than Charms class.

You just wanted some fresh air. You didn’t want to be around other people, not even your friends, lovely as they were. They kept trying to fix everything for you, handling you like you were fragile. Well, you weren’t. It was impossible to be Tom Riddle’s fuckbunny for three years and be easily breakable.

Eventually, you’d managed to find a spot to be alone. A nice patch of leaves underneath a tree that looked out across the Black Lake. It was cozy, peaceful even, albeit not the most comfortable. But it was quiet and lonely, just what you needed.

An unexpected crunching of leaves nearly made you drop the textbook you’d been pouring over. You looked over, expecting to come face to face with a curious animal but instead found Tom sitting beside you, blankly starring at the dark water of the lake. Sighing, you set your book down and leaned back against the tree, following his gaze.

After several long minutes of silence, Tom reached over and, for the first time ever, slipped his hand into your’s. You tensed as his fingers looped through your own, resting over your knuckles. Despite the shock, you didn’t feel the need to pull away but rather the urge to resist leaning your head on his shoulder.

“I didn’t realize that it’s easier to fall asleep when there’s another person next to you.”

You didn’t respond, you didn’t even look over. Tom continued in a nonchalant, monotone voice,

“You aren’t as much of a weakness as I thought you were-”

“I’m not interested in being wooed back into being your personal mattress, Riddle.”

Now you graced him with your acknowledgement, shooting him the coldest, most piercing glare you could muster. You were certain that you saw him flinch and his eyes moved from the lake to his lap.

“I’m not trying to have sex with you, (y/n), just hear me out.” He gritted, looking over to you with a pleading expression you’d never seen before, “I...I care about you in a way that I don’t really quite understand. I like being around you, I get frustrated when I can’t see you. You make me want to do better, to be better.”

Instinctively, your hand started to mirror his grasp.

“I was going to have Rosier deliver a flower to you but then Avery made some wisecrack about me going soft for you and I just...” Tom’s hold on your hand tightened and a look of anger flashed across his face, his jaw ticking, “I hate how they talk about you. How they make comments about your body and ask me if they can have a turn with you, only for them to ridicule me for letting you spend the night.”

“Oh.” Was all you could think to say, your brain frantically trying to process all the information Tom was pouring on you. He scooted closer to you, so his knee was brushing against your’s.

“They acted as though my...affection for you somehow makes me weaker, less respectable. Truthfully, (y/n), I let myself buy into it because you...you humble me, as it were.” He explained sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, “But they were wrong, of course they’re wrong, they’re idiots. You’re the only person I’ve ever met that understands me, that talks to me without acting like I’m a child or like a blithering oof. You make me stronger and I don’t particularly care who knows it.”

So this was Tom Riddle for ‘I’m sorry’. You weren’t sure how to react. There was such a stark contrast between the Tom you’d last spoke to and the one that sat before you now. There was more humanity in this one, in the gentleness of his touch, the softness of his eyes and the sincerity of his words. There was still all the pride, but with none of the icy harshness.

“Tom, I care about you too. I just need to know that you can show me that you care about me beyond just sex. I don’t want to be used anymore.” You whispered firmly, turning more towards him. He nodded slowly, bringing the hand not holding your’s up to cup your cheek.

“Whatever you wish for, I’ll give you. Affirmations, time, the moon. Anything.”

“All I want is you, Tom.”

Without another word, he leaned down and kissed you with an unfamiliar tenderness. It wasn’t like the hundreds of hungry kisses you shared before, it was more like that very first kiss from when you were fourteen. Innocent and sweet, unsure but confident.

You weren’t entirely convinced that Tom wasn’t still trying to use you, but if he was putting up an act this good, you figured you might as well enjoy the show.

[cottage-babe]

Burning Scars part IV

Previous | Chapter 4 | Next

Masterlist

I’ve been watching haikyuu and Nishinoya is so cute :(((

This chapter is going to fill in pretty much EVERYTHING related to Y/n’s past. also i feel like this shorter than my other chapters idk

Summary: Y/n, a werewolf from a hidden village, comes across Zuko and Iroh after being exiled. How has fate intertwined the wolf into the avatar's destiny?

*****This chapter takes place on Season 2 Episode 11*****

___

“Thank you,” Y/n said as she accepted the cup of tea from Mushi. 

The boys were surprisingly welcoming to her. Lee had begun to ask questions as soon as she came up to them, but his uncle had told him to stop and let her speak. He set up a pot of tea and had now given some to the young teens. 

All throughout the wait for the drink, Y/n’s mind was racing. Where does she start? How much does she tell them? The girl desperately wanted to come clean, but her loyalty to her pack deterred her. However, she knew that she had no obligations anymore, so why was she still so stuck on them?

Mushi took the spot next to Lee and quietly sipped his drink. His eyes weren’t on her, but she could feel that his desire for answers was just as strong as Lee’s. 

She took a deep breath and started her story.

“So I’m a- uh- werewolf.”

Silence. 

The girl knew that she probably should’ve continued from there, but she couldn’t help but wait for their reactions. Or rather, lack thereof. 

Y/n didn’t want to look up at their faces. If she did, she knew that their facial expressions would cause her to assume things and she didn’t want to guess their emotions; if they felt something, then they would need to say it. 

“Oh, well, we know that much!” The uncle laughed lightly, breaking the obvious tension. 

“But Uncle, I thought you said they were only myths; fiction.” Lee questioned.

“What more proof do you need? She’s a living, breathing piece of evidence!”

The teen nodded his head as he thought about that logic. Y/n assumed that it would be hard for him to process; just yesterday he had heard the story and now there she was, telling him that it wasn’t a myth, it was completely real and in front of him. 

“So, are you the only one? Or are there more?” Lee thought for a moment. “Wait, no, you mentioned a town before; there’s a whole village of werewolves?!”

I have no obligations toward my pack. I have no obligations toward my pack. I have no obligations toward my pack. 

“Yes,” she said confidently. It was about time that she went past her fear of her pack. They could no longer control her, she was her own person who could make her own decisions. 

But they’re your family.

Y/n shook the thought out of her head. Family doesn’t treat family that way. 

“Don’t ask me where they live or anything, because I won’t speak it.” Y/n succumbed to her guilty side slightly, hoping it would soothe her small feelings of regret. 

“We won’t, we promise,” Mushi said while sending a stern stare toward Lee. The boy nodded his head once again. 

Lee continued with his questions, though. “Why aren’t you with them then? You came to us two days ago, alone. Did something happen?”

Why does he ask so many questions?

She supposed that if she wanted to maintain their trust, she would have to wipe the slate clean; no more lies and no more hiding. They already knew that her kind existed, so there was no way that she would let them leave her behind. 

“In my pack, there’s a rite of passage that we must do when we turn 16...”

___

This was it. The day that everyone in the pack was waiting for. 

The L/n children’s Days of Trials. 

The morning had started wildly; their mom had helped clean the fur of all five of her “pups” while they watched decorations and food being prepared from afar. The village was quite small and had wooden huts for each family. Each one had a large leaf door that slid close for privacy; they had evolved a lot since their original days. Almost everyone in the pack was helping set up, except for the male Alpha.

That man just so happened to be their father; the exact reason why everyone was making such a big fuss over today. The Alpha’s children were going to be doing their trials to prove their worth to the pack. Some of the other wolves were excited and curious to see how the days would pan out; recently, there had been a spike of children who couldn’t complete the tasks assigned. 

However, there were many members who didn’t quite care for the right of passages. Every time the children of their leaders undergo the trials, they pass with flying colors. Never has there been a “royal” family child that didn’t meet the standards that were put up. 

Half of the workers around were in their human bodies to put up the decor while the other half were using their wolf’s to carry heavy things. It was a beautiful harmony that Y/n enjoyed on the Days of Trials; no one in the pack was looked down on for using their human skins. People would only use what was convenient. 

The five teen’s mother changed down to her human form. Her children copied her actions.

Their mother had long, overgrown hair and lively eyes. She was the kindest mother that the kids could ever dream of having. The wrinkles that surrounded her eyes not only showed age, but her strong, wise experience. She was absolutely perfect. 

Mother sighed as she looked at each one of her kids in the eyes.

“I want all of you to know that no matter what happens, I am proud of you,” she smiled so sweetly. “You worked so hard to be here and no amount of trials can take that away.”

Just as she said that, someone called for her aid and she had to leave, but not before leaving a kiss on all five of her kid’s foreheads. 

Soon, the siblings were left alone. 

“I-I don’t know if I can do this,” Fen spoke while trying to even out his erratic breaths. “It just feels so wrong to lie like this.”

Ayano rubbed Fen’s back to try and calm him. Then, Binu spoke up.

“I hate to agree with him, but he’s kinda right. Mom’s worried about our safety while we’re here with a secure plan? It feels sick to let her be so scared.”

Shong crossed his arms with a glare. “Don’t be dumb, guys. Our plan makes it so we all come out alive. If anything, we’re doing her a favor.”

They’re tall brother spoke some truths. The siblings had devised a scheme a long time ago to ensure that each member completed their tasks efficiently and met the bare minimums. 

They’re first task would be to go out and hunt a total of three animals before the sun rose to the center of the sky, signaling noon. Y/n and Binu were the best hunter’s of the family; while Y/n took hiding in the shadows easy, Binu was fast enough to outrun any animal. The two would use their skills to help the other’s catch their prey and make it back before their time ended.

Then, their next task would be working as a group to capture something that belonged to an opposite group (sort of like capture the flag). It was meant to see if the group could work together nicely and form a strategy. Luckily for them, Shong was very smart and him with the combination of Ayano would be able to easily make up a plan for any situation. 

Lastly, the five siblings would have to fight head on with each other and gain a total of two wins. They weren’t aware of the line up, but the siblings knew that no matter who went up against who, they would stick to the plan.

If they didn’t, then members of their family could be gone forever. 

___

“Ahh, I see,” Mushi said once the girl took a pause in her story to drink her tea, “Your plan didn’t work, then?”

Y/n shook her head softly and spoke quietly. “No, no. It did work. We made it past the first two trials so quickly, we almost broke a record.” A frown slowly set upon her face. “It was just at the third trial that things didn’t go as smoothly...”

___

“I think a congratulations is in order!” Ayano yelled as she held her wooden cup up into the air. 

Y/n let out a laugh and grabbed her sister’s arm. “We haven’t even finished everything yet. The last Test is tomorrow, so maybe you should get some sleep.”

Her siblings were, to say the least, drunk. 

One of them (at this point, Y/n couldn’t remember who) had stolen some liquor and brought it to the brothers and sisters. They all had a couple drinks, but Y/n and Fen seemed to be the only ones smart enough to remember what tomorrow was. 

They had finished the first day of the Trials; they had assumed that it would be the hardest due to the randomness of it, but it had seemed fairly easy. 

Many say that the Days of Trials were never meant to be hard, they just weeded out the absolute weakest of a bunch. Y/n wasn’t entirely sure how other’s had failed the tasks, but she didn’t like to think much of it. 

There were rumors of what had happened to the werewolves that didn’t pass. Some say that they were forced to live in solitude for the rest of their lives... others say that the pack’s fighters chase them down for fun. 

It was a little alarming that not even she, daughter of a family who is ranked so high, knew what happened to those poor wolves. 

Ayano clumsily transformed into her wolf skin and whined softly. Y/n sighed before looking at Fen. 

“You can take care of the other boys, right?”

He gave her a small salute. “Yup, I got it.”

She was about to help her sister out before Fen began to talk again. Y/n turned around to see Binu on the floor, but Shong was no where to be seen. 

“Uhh... you wouldn’t happen to know where Shong is, Y/n?”

The girl groaned in exasperation and dropped her sister onto the floor. 

Just as the brother and sister were about to leave their hut to search for him, the man in question pushed his way passed the hanging door and paused when he met their stare. 

“Dude, we were about to go look for you.” Fen groaned out, then went to the passed out Binu on the floor. “Help me bring him to our room.”

And with that, the two semi-sober siblings completely ignored Shong’s time of leave, despite knowing that no one else in their pack was awake that late into the night. 

The next afternoon, the five of them rushed to a big, open center where the rest of the pack was surrounding. Almost everyone was in their wolf skins, so they copied the actions of their fellow members. It was there that the children learned of the order that they were fighting in. 

There would be ten matches: each teen going against each of their siblings. A battle would be won once the victor gets their opponent outside of the circle. This trial was supposed to be the easiest for the five brothers and sisters. Emphasis on supposed.

Their fights went semi-smoothly.

At first, it was hard for the wolves to pretend to fight. They attacked each other like it was their dying wish, but in reality it was all a part of their plan. 

Just two wins each, that’s all they needed. 

By the time seven matches finished, Binu had already received his two wins; the rest of his fights ended with him losing dramatically as if he were in a play. Shong also had his two wins, but he still had to fight two more rounds and give his opponents the victory. 

The eighth battle was between Shong and Fen.

Fen only had one win under his belt, which meant that Shong would need to lose. Y/n knew what her tall brother’s tactic was when he need to lose the fight; he would put on a huge show to demonstrate his strength, then would pretend to make a misstep that costs him the win. It was extremely entertaining for the crowd. 

The siblings waited on the outskirts of the circle with the rest of the pack. The wolves around them were howling and barking in excitement. It was going to be such an amazing fight; Fen was seen as a weak asset and it seemed like Shong was going to completely destroy him.

The two sisters shared a look that said exactly what they were both thinking: if only the pack knew what was really going to happen. 

And with that, the teen’s father let out a bellowing howl; the signal for the battle to begin. 

Shong began his usual wolf dance. He skirted around each of Fen’s attacks and landed soft, teasing blows to his brother’s hide. He would only let Fen hit or bite him every once in a while, his only goal being to feed the crowd’s desire for a difficult fight. 

‘Okay, this is it.’ Y/n thought to herself, ‘Right about now, Shong should let Fen win.’

Just as the thought crossed her mind, her tall brother stopped his antics. It was a bit too sudden and the crowed around them let out a confused noise. It seemed as though Shong was... looking at someone. 

The girl followed his gaze all the way until it landed on their father. From her position, she couldn’t quite see the silent conversation they were having, but it seemed important. 

It was then that Fen struck. 

He pounced on his brother and shoved him straight out of the circle. 

It was silent for a moment, but eventually the noise flew up and cheered for the weaker sibling. It was a true display of power, even of the two hadn’t planned it. 

The look on Shong’s face was indescribable. It was a mixture between sad, angry, happy, and... something else. It was like every contradicting emotion was running through the wolf’s system. 

‘Why is he acting like that? This loss isn’t any different from the other ones.’

___

“I should’ve seen what was coming next,” Y/n spoke. “With the way he was acting... I just never expected him to be the one that broke all of us apart.”

___

It was the middle of the ninth match. 

Shong was up again, for the final time, but was against Ayano. 

Now, their sister wasn’t a force to be reckoned with. There were multiple times that she had fought one of the pack members for bullying a sibling (mainly Fen or Y/n). She wasn’t the strongest or the smartest or the fastest, but she made up for her weaknesses with her quick thinking. Her mind connected dots faster than all of her siblings combined and it’s what made her standout. Ayano’s passion and fast brain made her a threat to some of the strategists that lead beside their father. 

The duo’s red eyes glared at each other, circling the edges of the ring while they waited for the other to pounce. In this round, Ayano would receive her final win from her brother and complete her trial. 

But why was that look still molded into Shong’s face? He had death in his eyes instead of the playfulness that should’ve existed there. Something’s not right. 

Y/n desperately wanted to warn her sister, but if she mentioned anything about their plan, then they would all be banished for treason. It was best to just let it all play out. 

Maybe their brother just got really good at acting. 

Shong then jumped at Ayano, but the girl dodged it with milliseconds to spare. The brother almost slid out of the circle with the velocity of his jump, but slowed down in time. They both growled at each other.

The same actions repeated itself for the next couple of minutes; one would jump and the other would dodge. It really seemed like they were trying to kill the other, even with Y/n knowing who was supposed to win. It was terrifying. 

The brother and sister looked as though they were evenly matched. They predicted the other’s movements like it was their own; they danced as if they had practiced this for hours. 

However, the two weren’t the same. Shong was strong and had a everlasting stamina. Ayano didn’t.

The entire crowd could see that Ayano was growing tired. Her movements were turning sluggish and it was taking her longer and longer to dodge any attacks. 

Why isn’t Shong letting her win yet?

By now, Shong should’ve done his “misstep” and lost, but he seemed so persistent on his jumps.

Then, as some twisted, sick peice of fate, their brother pounced and Ayano was too exhausted to move out of the way. She let him drag her out of the ring, her body falling limp. 

Shong had one, which meant he got three wins; effectively stealing it from Ayano. 

That meant that in the last round of Y/n vs Ayano, one sister would be met with the doom of banishment for the rest of their lives.

___

“And so we fought. I let her win. End of story.”

Y/n set down her empty tea cup and looked at the two men in front of her. They were so invested in her story that they had forgotten about their own drinks. Steam and heat no longer rose from the small cups, it instead being a cold, lifeless collection of flavored water. 

“Is that- Is she the reason you got hurt?” Lee asked, his voice hoarse from not speaking for a while.

“Uhh, yeah.” She wrung her hands. “Its a rule in my pack: when someone’s banished, they have to have something like that visible on them, so they can never come back. It was only a coincidence that my sister was the one that gave it to me.”

“I am so sorry you had to go through that, Y/n,” Mushi whispered with a frown set on his face. The girl shrugged her shoulders in response.

“I mean, it’s better that it was me and not her. Her navigation skills are subpar, so she would’ve been so lost out here,” she forced a laugh. 

Mushi just his head in disbelief while Lee stared at the ground, lost in thought. It made her wonder what was going on in that head of his. 

Y/n really hoped that she had made the right decision by telling them the truth. It’s not like anyone would believe these two random travelers if they ever mentioned it. But still, the thought of them telling a town and having her pack torn apart made her shudder. 

Lee stood up suddenly. 

It surprised the two other people, but they quickly regained their focus as the teen began to speak. 

“I think you should stay with us, like for the long run,” he said confidently. “You could help us out a lot, and I think that we could help you.”

“Okay!” She stood up excitedly as well. This was the exact thing that she had been hoping for.

“And, of course, Lee,” Mushi interrupted, “shouldn’t that mean that we tell her the truth about us as well?”

Y/n was almost certain that whatever secret they had couldn’t be as bad as hiding being a werewolf. 

The boy puffed out his chest and nodded his head. 

“My real name is Prince Zuko and this is my Uncle, General Iroh. We are both from the fire nation.”

Silence.

There were many things running through the girl’s head, but the main one being Oh, so that’s why Mushi yelled out Zuko yesterday!

It took her a moment, but eventually she found something to say.

“You’re a prince? Should I bow or something?”

Le- or- Zuko deflated slightly at her words.

“Is that really all that you have to say?”

Iroh let out a hearty laugh at his nephew’s reaction. He quickly picked up their tea pot and cups while the two teens talked. 

“And that ‘fire nation’ stuff, does that have to do with that magic thing you did yesterday?” The girl asked with a tilt of her head. This cause him to shrink even more.

“Y-you mean my bending?”

“Bending? What is tha-”

The girl paused as her ears caught a soft thumping sound; almost identical to the one that awoke her that morning. 

Those people must be coming back.

She quickly warned the duo and helped them pack up their things. Just as the noise grew closer and closer, the three of them jumped on their ostrich-horses (in the same positions as they had the day before) and rode out before the group of men could find them again. 

Iroh laughed from his horse beside them. “Maybe I should’ve stayed, it was nice to see old friends.”

“Too bad you don’t have any old friends that don’t want to attack you.” Zuko groaned front his seat in front of Y/n. 

The three of them were riding pretty fast, so Y/n had her arms gripped around the boy’s torso. He had stiffened at first, but slowly relaxed at her touch. 

“Hmm... Old friends that don’t want to attack me...” 

___

thanks for sticking w me guys <3

even if you skipped past the memories like i know some do, i appreciate you reading this :)

anyways might actually have some cutesy stuff next chapter so wait till next week to read it <33

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Masterlist

Taglist: @bucky-blogs @hopefuloperaangelnerd @simplyfandomish @oddlypointlessescapes @lozzybowe ((bolded couldn’t be tagged))

[inikavulpixelreviews]

Let’s Talk About Pokemon - The Rolycoly Family

837: Rolycoly

OHHHH!!!! OH OH!!!!! THE COAL MONSTER!!! THAT I PUT ON MY WISHLIST! OH How I instantly fell in love with this little guy when it was first revealed. This design is so neato in its lovable simplicity. At first glance it's little more than a chunky hunk of coal with a single eye. Oh, but they eye GLOWS as if it has coal burning on the inside! That on top of its general body shape makes it look like a living miner's helmet! Hah, how clever and original for a little coal critter!

It even has a unique ability that has it interacting with Fire and Water, boosting the Pokemon's speed if its hit with moves of those type! Cool! And how I LOVE that grumpy little visage it has. It's just a single eye but it still lends so much fun personality to the thing. But Rolycoly comes with a little something extra:

It's on a WHEEL! It has an entire wheel-shaped shard of coal on its underside that allows it to roll around like a unicycle! That is PRECIOUS! And boy howdy has the excitement for what this thing could possibly turn into get me pumped. So many neat Fakemon ideas floating around. That and I absolutely KNEW I was gonna be using a Rolycoly once I started playing the game myself. I just HAVE to see what this coal dude turns into!

Personal Score: 10/10

838: Carkol

Oh, well... hrmmmm. We're not off to a fantastic start, I guess. My instant turn-off on the other side of that evolution screen was that Rolycoly instantly lost its cool cycloptic eye in favor of a much more regular looking face. Why does it just look like Golem's face??? Like I can't stress this enough. If a Pokemon has a unique feature, especially one that is a rarity like a single eye, or a droopy face, or having shaggy hair cover the majority of its face, or even a complete LACK of face, it absolutely should NOT lose these features unless it has a compelling enough reason to, like fulfilling a design theme. There are so little Pokemon that are cycloptic that it's SO ANNOYING that it instantly fails at step 1.

I also don't really like that's already SORTA lost the wheels. They're there, and they function as wheels, but they're behaving a lot more like legs most of the time. It doesn't even keep its glowing eyes. They light up during certain animations but that's it. Nor do I like that a pile of coal is precariously going over its back. It makes it stop looking like a coal monster and just that it's a monster that carries coal. The shape of its back should evoke the look of a mine cart filled with coal and not BE a mine cart full of coal, if you get what I'm saying?

Even if it was just the face that was redone, I would've taken it. But if I could do a little tidying up and redoing of Carkol, it wouldn't take a TON to do it. The basic shape is fine to me, just good lord please give it its face and wheels back.

Personal Score: 5.5/10

...But not all hope is lost just yet! There's loads of Pokemon with a good beginning, and low middle, and a good end. Awkward teenage stage am I right? Even if its face isn't just a single eye anymore, at least it's keeping the wheeled theme! In fact, you could really build off of that! Like making it a train! A TRAIN POKEMON, LIKE ON MY WISHLIST AGAIN! That'd be knocking out two birds with one piece of coal! Surely they couldn't possibly think of ditching that aspect of this line, especially since it's been present in two stages so far! Surely the least possible thing that could happen would be if this almost literal mine cart Pokemon had suddenly lost all its wheels and miraculously turned into a generic bipedal dinosaur that walks like literally any other Pokemon out of nowhere. That’d be like, the worst case scenario. But that wouldn’t happen, right?

...

...Right?

839: Coalossal

Not to come off as blunt right off the gate here but this did it. I didn't think it was gonna be possible. Gallade is no longer my least favorite Pokemon of all time. Because in the end, as much as you could say Gallade sullies the Gardevoir line's unique take on a knight just by association, you can at least IGNORE Gallade. Just evolve your male Kirlia into a Gardevoir anyway because Gardevoir is just better than Gallade in every way anywho. Gallade? Literally WHO??? But Coalossal is impossible to ignore if you were a fan of what Rolycoly was putting down. And even Gallade had a FEW merits to it. Coalossal has almost systematically taken every little bit of what has cool and unique about Rolycoly and thrown it out the window in favor of being an all-around copy-paste job.

Okay, for a moment, let's pretend Rolycoly and Carkol never existed. Coalossal was just a single-stage Pokemon on its own in a cave somewhere or whatever. What about Coalossal is individually unique to it and it alone? Sincerely close to absolutely nothing. No single individual aspect of this design is unique in any way. Want to know the major reason why? Because Coalossal already existed. We've already had Coalossal for about ten years now. But back then, we called it Rhyperior.

I'm personally not a gigantic fan of Rhyperior either, but look at this. This is absolutely comedic. They're the fucking same. They are the SAME creature. Coalossal is nothing but an off-color Rhyperior. Like come ON. At least Rhyperior has the benefit of having is rough body serve a visual motif where it's wearing construction gear, with sound-canceling headphones, complete with wrecking ball tail. A solid rock monster design, even if I personally prefer Rhydon. I can confidently look at Rhyperior and see that it’s gone through revisions, redraws, and polishes to make it unique even in its own evolutionary line.

Can I say the same for Coalossal? I honestly can't say I do. With Rhyperior fresh in mind, what's Coalossal's visual motif? It's made of coal, I guess? Its face SORT OF looks like a cowcatcher on a train. But here's a question, why doesn't it look MORE like a train if train was clearly a motif they wanted to go with? If it's a train monster, why is it bipedal in the first place?

The only bit of its design that's even a little eye-catching is the pile of coal clumsily piled onto its shoulders, but I already said why I don't like that. It makes it look like Coalossal itself isn't a coal monster, it just carries coal around. Besides, most well-done designs aught to still have at least some value to them even if you took away one aspect of said design. Rhyperior with a plain tail with no wrecking ball is still a funny construction site rhino man. Even Carkol with no coal on its back would've still been a weirdo mine cart monster. Coalossal without the pile of coal is just naked Rhyperior.

Things only get worse when you add Carkol and especially Rolycoly back into the equation. Rolycoly's unique features were that it was a coal monster with one eye, riding on a wheel and it's shaped like an object. Carkol at least continues most of this, mostly ridding of the single eye thing. Coalossal gets rid of all that's left. No more wheels, no more object shapes, no more fun, it's just a coal thing now. Literally the first thing that comes to your mind when you think “I want to make a coal monster.” A rough draft in monster design form, printed and published for the full release.

I have to wonder, how many questions of whether this looked good or not the decisions to make in a train monster but also a bipedal dinosaur-thing was a well enough thought-through idea? Is being a dinosaur with a cowcatcher on its head visually interesting? More visually interesting than its previous stages, where it had far more visual motifs going on? Was it a conscious decision to say yes or was there a time crunch where they had to settle on a “close enough” design to pad out the Pokedex?

And you know what's more than likely the thing that murdered this line? Time.

I feel bad for possibly implying it was going to be nothing but smooth sailing this Gen when I made my little Sword and Shield pre-review. Because the more I've dug into Gen 8 the more I've realized how many designs in here are heavily flawed. And I can only blame the very evident drop in quality on the clear lack of time Gamefreak has these days. Generations are getting shorter and shorter and it's starting to show. Had SwSh not happened for another couple years, I guarantee I wouldn't be making this rant right now. This kind of blunder is simply so uncharacteristic of Gamefreak's art department. Like say what you will about the games themselves but Pokemon's been running strong from Gens 5 to 7. It's hard to believe the same company that made creatures like Mimikyu, Buzzwole, Sigilyph, or Pumpkaboo churned out Coalossal here.

Here, I'll embarrass myself and share a bit of concept art of a personal project of mine. These designs aren't too terribly spectacular, are they? That's because they're just the rough drafts. The very first instance of me drawing a creature in order to have their design idea on paper, because I can flesh them out later. They’re very wonky looking, weirdly generic at best because later on, “Ash Wolf” there would later become...

“Billowolf”. And heck, it’s plenty possible that it’ll go through one more redesign or so before I’m fully satisfied with it. Coalossal feels like the former. A sketchbook doodle of a “coal dinosaur” base idea that was meant to be more fleshed out later but wasn’t given the opportunity.

And I'm noticing more and more that this is gonna be a repeat complaint going into Gen 8. Lots of ideas with decent or even excellent potential not being lived up to because the designs haven't been through enough revisions. We're well aware of an internal approval process that happens within Gamefreak for these Pokemon to get accepted, and I can only wonder if they just settled with “good enough” designs simply because they were running out of time. Like for PETE'S sake this annual release schedule needs to stop. I hope this new trend of DLC will alleviate the Pokemon Rush. Hell, I'd encourage it so long as they're fairly priced and maybe even bring in a handful of new Pokemon designs each. It's not quite a year off the constant Poketrain but DLC is a lot easier to make than an entirely new game or even a “deluxe edition”. I don't care if we go back to a release schedule of one generation per major Nintendo system. Just let these guys have the time and leeway to do their dang jobs without the stress of ridiculously tight deadlines. There's still so much talent within Gamefreak and it's maybe easy to forget that they're the ones that made the more beloved entries in the series back before they forced a game out almost every year.

And to be clear I DO NOT mean to say all this to shame whoever designed Coalossal, even if they themselves are proud of it. Nor am I shaming anyone that does like Coalossal (just given I’ve gotten comments before acting like I’m being the opinion police with this review series.) Alarmingly enough, my taste isn’t law! And that’s fine. I’m just wondering if the higher-ups on the art team have given Coalossal a pass under less time-constrained circumstances? Or would they have sent it back in to go a few more rounds in a feedback loop? The basic point of this rant is just

Obviously, I'd want this line to follow through on the train motif and have Coalossal actually be a goddang train. And of course keep the single eye.

I do hear one of the defenses of Coalossal being dinosaur-shaped being that “it's a fossil fuel coming back to life.” If that was the intention, that should've been the theme from the very start instead of the rolling wheel idea. (Even under this light, I still wouldn't call Coalossal a very good design. It's far too generic to be doing even that cool idea justice. If that WAS the idea, I’d say it’d be way cooler to do a monster that’s moreso crudely trying to imitate the look of a dinosaur.)

...Awkward thing is, Coalossal wound up sticking in my team for the whole game. Mostly because I wasn't sure if any more new Fire types would be coming afterward (there weren't) so. My Sword team has my least favorite Pokemon on it. I still love ya though, Obsidius. It's not your fault your design wasn't finished. ):

Personal Score: 1/10

I'm sorry if it feels like I'm just dunking on Pokemon after Pokemon here. I PROMISE there's some Pokemon I'm excited to talk about coming up later. In fact, oooh, Applin's next! Applin will be a good palette cleanser, yes.

G-Max Coalossal:

Oh yeah, Coalossal has a G-Max form too. It's better, I'll give it that, and it SORTA brought the wheel thing back but only in having tire-shaped thighs. Pbbbth. The scale is imposing and at least its eyes look a little bit cooler again. I can't bring myself to like it much better just by association with Coalossal. It's fine, I guess. I'm not even gonna rate it. I just don’t like it. It’s fine. Eh.

[Archive]

[missstormcaller]

CAN’T FEAR YOUR OWN WORLD Vol. II Part 15 Full Translation

This is 3/4 of part 13 on the app

Chapter 14

In a battle between Shinigami and Hollow, being larger in size carried in itself, some kind of advantage.

With regard to conflict among human beings and contest between wild animals in the World of the Living, that would of course be common knowledge, but when it comes to a fight involving Shinigami and Hollow, it takes on a completely different meaning.

Unlike mankind, Hollows can grow colossal enough to pierce the heavens; even if the upper hand is gained through equipment or technique, after crossing a threshold that cannot be so easily overcome they obstruct the path of progress that lies before the Shinigami.

However, the reason it's described as 'some kind of advantage', is down to the fact that it's not a ubiquitous one.

It is possible for a Shinigami who has mastered the Zankensoki above a certain level, to slay even a Hollow who is more than ten times their own size.

In many cases, Zanpakutō also have the ability to rival a Hollow of such enormity.

Having said that, even if the Zanpakutō had entered its Bankai state —— a limit exists as a matter of course.

When Gerard Valkyrie — the Schrift holder of "The Miracle" who was a member of the Schutzstaffel under the Quincy monarch Yhwach — grew so gargantuan that he could effortlessly brush aside the likes of Bankai, he happened to possess the brute force and stamina to counterbalance it.

Hollows also grow by consuming each other, eventually becoming gigantic beings referred to as "Menos Grande" and able to hinder the Shinigami at every turn, however from this point onwards, it is the normal course that said growth will come to be diverged.

In the process of evolving from Gillian, to Adjuchas, and even further to Vasto Lorde, the Hollow's stature shrinks as though the Reishi which had been used in the enlargement of its body is gradually being made to condense.

Then, in the end, this results in a 'high-density monster' which compresses Reiatsu proportionate to as many as tens of thousands of huge Menos Grande, within a human-sized body.

In other words, the more colossal its size partway through the evolution process, the more it is acknowledged as a powerful Hollow, and from the moment it surpasses Menos Grande, it comes to be recognised as a formidable individual possessing a more highly concentrated Reiatsu the smaller the body becomes.

However, the 'thing' which made an appearance in the Rukongai was enough to make one momentarily forget such logic existed.

Its enormous physique likely several times as large as a Menos Grande, is crammed with Reiatsu at a density reminiscent of a Vasto Lorde class Menos.

Every time 'it' advanced a step forward, the ground let out a screech and a tremor is roused.

Every time 'it' gave a cry, the atmosphere rumbles and all surrounding life are lured into a vortex of primordial fear.

Looking at such a 'thing' —— that is, the form of Ikomikidomoe, Zanpakutō of Ubuginu Hikone, Hirako Shinji who was taking refuge high up in the air, raised his voice as though he was astounded.

"Doesn't this make you a cheat!? You force us to acknowledge you as king, and yet that trick you just pulled doesn't even seem to be the doing of your own power, what gives!?"

Hikone, the 'master' of that gargantuan creature, thereupon replied with an air of innocence.

"Not at all, Ikomikidomoe is basically being operated by my own Reiatsu! So you see, it's totally fine, and when the need arises we will fight fused together as one!"

"What the heck is 'fused together' supposed to mean!? Robotics perhaps!? Is this thing like a giant robot or something!?"

At present, Hirako is surveying the situation from the sidelines without any direct participation in the battle.

By all rights, it is logical to assume that the Arrancar who appeared in Soul Society will be driven away or exterminated, however the notice which had been issued from above stated as follows: 'unless they grow hostile or lay waste to the Human World, refrain from slaying the Espada-class Arrancar.'

This was a policy put into place after the balance of the total amount of souls belonging to Soul Society, the Human world and Hueco Mundo was largely thrown into disarray by the actions of the Quincies, with the implication that it was for the sake of avoiding all-out war.

Taking such an implication into consideration himself, Hirako deliberately examined the state of affairs without siding with Hikone.

However, after watching Hikone who was kicking up too much of a storm with little restraint, he begins to intrude all the same.

"I mean, what are you gonna do if this monstrosity goes berserk! Are you even able to control it properly!?"

"Oh, there's no need to worry about that!"

When Hikone responded with this statement as smilingly as ever ——

With one hand the child easily dissipates the single Cero which came flying in whilst proceeding to regurgitate more words.

"Because I am just as strong as Ikomikidomoe!"

"What's… the meaning of all this?"

Having set up a Garganta gateway leading to Soul Society, what Tier Harribel saw, was a totally unexpected sight.

After following Grimmjow's Reiatsu and aiming for the location he had seemingly arrived at, the Garganta opened, Grimmjow was indeed present there.

But that's not all.

Shinigami, Quincy and even individuals who are neither one of those things were all assembled together in a confusing medley as they continue to do battle around 'something' as huge as a steep hill.

"Is that… Luppi?"

The prominent light blue hair belonging to Grimmjow caught Harribel's eye first and foremost, but she was confused by the figure of the Arrancar with eight tentacles on his back who was positioned to his side.

The former Espada who should have been killed after having the upper half of his body blown away by Grimmjow in the past, is now dealing an attack towards this huge monster almost as if he was presenting a united front with Grimmjow.

However, it did not appear to be the case that they had reconciled, rather it could be seen again and again that they were each on the verge of being caught up in the offensive of the other, given how they were firing high-powered attacks without being mindful of the other.

"That one over there… is that the Shinigami from the other day?"

Spotting the youth perched on the back of the mountain-like Hollow, with a hint of of surprise, Harribel observes the situation from a position even further on the sidelines.

Then, as if to confirm whether her insight is correct, she addressed Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck who was standing next to her.

"So Grimmjow's target was that Shinigami after all? But, what's the deal with those Quincies? They seem different compared to the ones who fought in Hueco Mundo."

"Hmm, I'm not so sure about that? I believe they're the same as the lot who were Yhwach's underlings…. But more importantly, that monster over there. Although it's Hollow-like, don't you think it's strange somehow?"

"…I remember this Reiatsu. It was being carried by that Shinigami child, and it has an identical presence to the Zanpakutō which opened up a Garganta."

"So what you mean is, that thing over there is the very Zanpakutō from last time? Its form is extremely different but… I wonder if it entered Bankai state kinda like Ichigo……? Or, perhaps it's better to call it a Resurrección like we do?"

To the side of Nelliel who is troubled by matters not directly relevant to the situation, Harribel continues to further observe the signs in her surroundings.

However, her position as an observer quickly fell apart.

The reason why is because this monster, closely resembling a Hollow, who appears to have noticed their presence, now sought a dialogue with them after opening its large mouth to speak.

"New brethren? Indeed, these are faces I have never seen. Surely it's not like you're royal maidservants of Baraggan's court?"

That voice was by no means a thunderous noise that would burst one's eardrums.

Yet it courses through one's body as if to permeate internal organs and bone, and as though resonating directly from the cranium, the eerie low-pitched sound shook the very skulls of Harribel and Nelliel.

"It knows Baraggan…? Does this mean that thing is a Hollow after all…?

"In any case, 'Baraggan's royal maidservants' of all things…? Besides, speaking of Baraggan, he's already dead is he not?"

Upon hearing the words Nelliel had returned in dissatisfaction, the movements of the gargantuan monster came to an instant stop.

"Ikomikidomoe? What's the matter?"

Disregarding the voice of Hikone who had halted all action, 'Ikomikidomoe' made his dispassionate words reverberate through the atmosphere.

"I see… that cunning old king has been erased from the face of Hueco Mundo has he?"

The king of Hueco Mundo continued to live for a near eternity, only to perish as a subordinate of Aizen in the end.

After a moment of silence, Ikomikidomoe who muttered as though reminiscing about the name of Baraggan, then released a roar within the Rukongai as if to destroy everything.

"—— —————— ———— —— ———— — —

—————— —————— —— ——— ————

————"

His voice shook the atmosphere, the turbulence of the atmosphere turned into wind, and the high density Reiatsu wind gathered together to generate a many number of aggressive tornadoes in the encompassing space.

Those who sought to attack him, those spectating from the sidelines, those who were indecisive about their stance; the fierce bellow intermingled with grief and hatred made an attempt to destroy them all without discrimination.

With that as an impetus, the chaos will come to usher in a new phase.

Somewhere in Seireitei - A hidden domain - Passageway.

Within Seireitei, there is also an area where only a handful of nobles are permitted to enter.

This space which would rarely have any sign of life under normal circumstances, is now transformed into a battlefield filled with flashes of light emanating from swords and the smell of blood.

As sword crossed with sword, a new blade would take aim from behind, and whenever yet another blow would intercept it, those who emerged from the shadows would snatch away everything from the progress of battle.

A collective battle between defenders and attackers, both of whom make assassinations their occupation.

The veiled conflict among a select few who would otherwise be consigned to oblivion from shadow to shadow, had now developed into an open brawl between factions, a situation which could also be described as a disgrace for an assassin.

Tsunayashiro Tokinada is one among the four great noble clans.

The plan was to curb his actions and at the same time monitor them under the pretext of guarding him, however, these assailants had made an appearance as though they had lain in wait to take aim.

Engaged in combat with the Punishment Force commanded by Soifon, is a gang of what appears to be assassins, all clad in jet black garments.

In response to the assassins who laid bare their intent to kill, the Shinigami among the Punishment Force continued to intercept the attack without so much as batting an eye, as though they had suppressed all emotion.

In the midst of such a chaotic scuffle, Soifon deftly handles the onslaught of the enemy, though she constantly spared part of her consciousness to exercising caution against Tsunayashiro Tokinada.

Although Tokinada had asserted that he was being 'targeted by assassins', Soifon was by no means convinced by those words.

She had come to the conclusion that, in all probability, Tokinada had set this up in order to trigger some kind of event by taking advantage of the confusion, even if Tokinada had truly been targeted by assassins, she had determined that he must be scheming something by using this as an opportunity.

Soifon had also been hearing of the infamy of the Tsunayashiro clan since before the position of clan head had been assumed.

It's likely she would not have harboured as much animosity if that had been the end of it.

When Kyōraku had issued instructions in order to deploy the Punishment Force with the extremely ambiguous reasoning that "the head of the Tsunayashiro clan may be plotting something", as one might expect, Soifon raised an objection stating they'd be unable to mobilise under such vague motives, however——

—— "No, it's not a 'maybe', he is most certainly up to something it seems. Anyway, having gone to the trouble of summoning me, our mutual friend tried to use politics to his advantage. He made an obvious attempt at flattery, going on about how beautiful I was and whatnot after seeing me in person, whilst even having the nerve to ogle me up."

And thus, the second Yoruichi added this new information after she had casually dropped in, Soifon immediately proposed something extremely reckless - "let's execute him, now, this very instant" - taking it upon herself to handle the dirty work.

Given that she had planned to undertake the dirty work herself, Kyōraku had her agree to keeping things civil after managing to persuade her, however in this situation there is no longer any sense in that consideration either, Soifon instead continued to be on guard against Tokinada with the mental attitude that she should just hurry up and cut him down from behind so it would save them the trouble of gathering evidence against him.

Nevertheless, perhaps coming to that realisation himself, Tokinada did not launch an attack on her from behind, nor did he attempt to flee as he happily swung his own Zanpakutō towards the assassins.

—— I guess, he's strong.

Despite the hostility stemming from her personal feelings, Soifon calmly analysed the ability of the other party.

She had heard that he was a powerful individual formerly belonging to the seated members class of the Gotei 13, but the assassins were being cut down through actions that did not appear to be the result of a period of idleness amounting to several hundred years.

—— …What? That Zanpakutō.

When Soifon cast a glance between the clashing swords, the blade which was clasped in Tokinada's hands, seemed at first glance to be nothing more than a basic Asauchi.

Even in spite of the fact that only a short while earlier, Tokinada had definitely uttered its release call in order to perform Shikai, the form did not appear to change in the slightest.

—— I've heard about the abilities of "Kuten kyōkoku" from captain commander Kyōraku, the Zanpakutō handed down from generation to generation in the Tsunayashiro clan, but I didn't expect that not even its form would change.

However, regarding its 'abilities', it was indeed something consistent with the information she had heard.

One of the assassins waved his Zanpakutō, a number of fireballs appear around the blade and charge towards Tokinada.

The heat capacity of its flames could never hold a candle to Yamamoto Genryūsai's "Ryūjin Jakka", and it would also be equivalent to mere child's play when compared to Kurosaki Isshin's "Engetsu". Even so, the fireballs were enough to burn and kill one of the Shinigami, but then ——

Tokinada let his blade flash, at the same time, those flames recoiled back towards the enemy as though a ball was hitting a wall.

Like rays of light striking a mirror, the trajectory of the fireballs are made to reverse and collide violently with its original caster.

Screaming, the assassin's body flared up into an inferno.

Observing that scene, Soifon realises once more that this is indeed an ability that warrants vigilance and it is precisely for this reason that it is she who was chosen to deal with this given that she is able to do battle even without the use of her Zanpakutō.

—— Ability reflection huh?

—— This is more of a bother than I thought.

A technique which reflects the abilities unique to a Zanpakutō in its original state.

Although this power is quite similar to "Sōgyo no Kotowari" once wielded by Ukitake Jūshirō, it's not the case that it momentarily absorbed the Reishi of an attack and then redirected it back towards the opponent, rather the technique at hand took a form where the attack is repelled away as if an invisible reflective barrier had also been put up.

It can also be concluded that in a case like this, it may be more favourable to do battle whilst maintaining the Asauchi state, however as far as Soifon could see, Tsunayashiro Tokinada is more of a proficient user of Zanjutsu than what she had previously imagined.

Indeed, if paired with this skill, he is likely able to turn the tables on most hostiles.

—— But….

At the same time, doubts emerge in Soifon's mind.

—— To simply bounce back an opponent's moves… is that the extent of this power?

—— Or, could it be that the Bankai has a more unique power?

Although it is a startling power, it's not like there exists no means of dealing with it.

There are individuals capable of fighting even without the abilities of a Zanpakutō much like herself and others in her unit.

Alternatively, there are those capable of devising any number of countermoves, such as Zaraki Kenpachi who is able to overwhelm an opponent purely through physical strength alone without involving abilities, or the roundabout approach of Kurotsuchi Mayuri who determines the outcome of the match before swinging his blade.

In fact, prior to issuing his instructions a short while earlier, apparently Kyōraku had also harboured the same doubts.

—— "It's just… as far as I'm concerned, it doesn't seem likely that Tokinada's Zanpakutō merely has the ability to repel an opponent's attack."

Information surrounding the Zanpakutō had been obtained using various intelligence networks, including his position as captain commander and his connections in the Central 46.

However, from the onset, Kyōraku had entertained suspicions over the very fact that such information was made available to him.

—— "His own Zanpakutō has been confiscated. What he now wields, is a Zanpakutō that can be held only by the clan head… that is to say, it is both the trump card of the Tsunayashiro family as well as the very "power" that is symbolic of them."

—— "A Zanpakutō that is passed down generation after generation by a house among the four great noble clans. Maybe like 'Muramasa', it's capable of exercising control over other people's Zanpakutō… I've come to the assumption that it may possess a power just about as reckless as that." ¹

Recalling an image of Kyōraku who had spoken of such a matter whilst citing as an example, the Zanpakutō which possessed a sort of power that was practically foul play, Soifon maintained the highest degree of vigilance towards Tokinada who was standing at her back, at the same time she continues to repulse the assassins.

Meanwhile, Yoruichi had a half-hearted reaction to the assassins as she breathed a sigh in seeming concern.

"It's a serious problem that so many Zanpakutō are in the possession of this lot who aren't even Shinigami."

Then, in a manner that aimed to give a response to the issue raised, Tokinada who had eliminated the assassins surrounding him, stifles his laughter.

"Well not too long ago a great number of Shinigami died in the war against the Quincies after all. I guess a lot of thieves who recovered Zanpakutō that had lost their owners have come crawling out of the woodwork."

"Oh yeah, and here I am thinking that some noble who didn't participate in the war had gone as far as to unscrupulously carry out black market deals by taking the initiative."

"Hahahaha! If such a noble exists, then he would be a disgrace to the Seireitei!"

While laughing aloud, in the same fashion as before Tokinada had, with a swing of his sword, repelled a lightning strike unleashed by the enemy.

In other words, he either manoeuvred himself by reacting to the speed of the lightning, or anticipated the next move from the enemy's actions, this becomes a testament to the fact that Tokinada possessed battle prowess that cannot be underestimated indeed.

Whilst effortlessly handling the assassins, Tokinada brazenly made another assertion at a Yoruichi who had spun words of sarcasm.

"Things like Zanpakutō can end up drifting into just about anywhere. It's not the origins, but rather what it accomplished that's the important thing, wouldn't you agree? I've heard that's also true for the current 'Kenpachi' right?"

.

.

.

"A rogue who didn't even enter the Shinō Academy, rose up in the world after stealing a sword belonging to a fallen Shinigami in the Rukongai."

Seireitei - Kutsuwamachi

Yarrow bent to the wind.

Several blocks exist within Seireitei, as well as a number of wards that possess distinctive features such as the commercial district or the noble quarter.

However, one among them, reputed to be particularly conspicuous, is "Kutsuwamachi" where the squad 11 barracks exist, far removed from elements of history, culture, entertainment and the like.

Day in and day out, as the 11th division's squad insignia sways, Shihakushō clad hoodlums swagger about the main streets of the block looking as though they owned the place.

With a cool visage, Ayasegawa Yumichika —— a man with a physical appearance ill-suited to such a rough townscape, strolled along a path leading to the squad barracks filled with the stench of blood, dirt and liquor; he addressed Madarame Ikkaku —— walking at a slight angle before him, a man who appeared as if he fit perfectly with the atmosphere of this neighborhood.

"Seems like there's some kind of turbulence in the direction of the first ward, did something happen?"

"Seeing as how those guys from the Onmitsukidō were in a damn frenzy, maybe there's even something of a manhunt going on. Tsk… if I had the slightest idea where they're headed, I'd be on the move myself. It may be a different story with the Security Force's Ōmaeda, but that bunch from the Punishment Force are sure as hell tight-lipped…."

Whilst speaking with an air of boredom, Madarame passes under the gates of the squad barracks with Yumichika in tow.

Suddenly, the rough atmosphere that had filled the block until now, transformed entirely; a Reiatsu that was both wild and austere caused a stinging sensation on the skin of the two men.

Yet, they advance forward without concern.

After all, this air is a familiar one, and also the very reason they continue to remain in squad 11.

Confronted by the Reiatsu possessed of both a harshness and a weight that was capable of putting one under an illusion, almost as though you were being tipped over a mountain of needles just by standing there, it can be confirmed that the other squad 11 troops were all alike in breaking out into a cold sweat.

The fact that this block where ruffians gather, is not fatally lacking in keeping public order as it is the case with places like the "Kusajishi" district of Rukongai, is quite possibly because the squad members were being brought under control by the mere presence of the owner to whom this Reiatsu belongs.

Though, the owner of the Reiatsu himself, does not have the least bit of interest in things like the public order of these streets.

Finally, upon entering the training halls, the 'source of that power' appears before Madarame and Co.

"We're back from patrol, captain."

"…Right."

Zaraki Kenpachi.

That title is the symbol of a most raw form of the art of war within the Gotei 13, and it is also an ill-omened power of words that embodies a blood-smeared history.

However, his personal method when it comes to the 'art of war' is much too rough-hewn; his vast torrent of power reminiscent of some kind of natural disaster, could crush a history of endeavour accumulated by others just by itself, and inadvertently revert everything to a barren plot of land.

As the name "Zaraki" suggests, it is as though he was a towering tree that will continue to stand even if the place was reduced to barren land, it's possible to describe him as an entity worthy of the title of Kenpachi which carries the meaning of a refusal to die regardless of how many times one has been cut.

Seeing that very captain remain in his haori even in the training halls which is an unusual sight, Madarame probed for an answer feeling somewhat mystified.

"What's going on captain? You're actually wearing your haori mid afternoon, and there's not even a captain's meeting, that's rare."

By nature he was not a man who paid any mind to the haori, but perhaps in an act of doing the bare minimum of his duty to Yamamoto Genryūsai who had taken him up, quite often Zaraki would conscientiously wear his haori to captains' meetings and such.

For the purpose of making it easier to move, this haori would be removed immediately at the training halls, the Kenpachi would then amuse himself to the likes of freestyle sparring against all members of his squad in a state where he is either clad in a Shihakushō or baring the upper half of his body.

Only today, he did not even appear to be carrying out any such sparring session.

"Yeah, I got contacted by that captain commander of ours just now. Said he wants me ready to move into action with a captain's haori at any time today."

Although it has half been reduced to rags in a short period of time as a result of intense battle, his captain's haori still bears special significance.

Perhaps having a premonition of something to come, Zaraki flashed a daring smile as the yarrow that was branded on his squad insignia fluttered.

"I don't need the damn hassle, but if there's a fight involved I ain't complainin'."

Translator’s Notes:

¹ Narita made a tweet regarding the mention of "Muramasa" from anime filler when the 13th installment of CFYOW was released on Shonen Jump Plus:

"Although I've thrown in certain terms here and there that call the anime original series back to mind, I won't specify whether the exact same set of events from the anime occurred down to the particulars, or whether it's something similar that occurred, so at present I would appreciate it if all my readers could freely interpret it however they want...!"

[transienturl]

After writing everything below, I felt like I should add a foreword of some kind describing what it’s about to get you not to skip it on account of it being 1200 words. I don’t really have anything though, besides “I liked it a lot and it describes my brain, and maybe it’ll make you think about yours.”

------

There's a thought I've had a number of times but haven't yet tried to talk about or write out about, like... the ways in which people come up with morals? I'm sure this is pretty basic-level psychology and ethics stuff, but I haven't taken any classes of that sort, so here we are. It goes something like this (and the point is at the end, btw):

When we have disagreements with other people about fundamental moral beliefs, we have to understand it in one of fairly few ways, right? Like, either (1) the other person is just evil, or (2) they're misguided or have made an error but ultimately have the right values (or at least the ones I have), or (3) through their experiences they've come to differ in fundamental beliefs from me and their argument is, in that lens, totally consistent. Right? If you're going to engage at all in a disagreement, you have to pick or come to understand one or more of these (or, I guess, you go with the first one by default.)

So you kind of have to have some kind of mental model of how people think of the world and come to have opinions, so you can take a guess which part of the model is causing the disagreement. In more plain terms, when it really matters, you need to know what caused the other person to be wrong, yeah? Like when the other person is like, "we need to deport all redheads" or "my kid shouldn't be treated for this collapsed lung" or whatever.

And the first obvious distinction to make is like, "values" vs. all the other stuff that's situational and on top of them. Like a value could be fairness or loyalty or hard work being rewarded or something something family or everyone having a say or selflessness being good or the reduction of human or animal suffering or, I dunno, insert stuff about faith. I'm not sure where the line should be drawn, but my working theory is that values are the stuff you feel like everyone reasonably ought to share (even though you know not everyone does)? Again, I'm sure there's a chapter in a textbook about this. So by argument (2), all the other stuff is just disagreements about the right way to get to the same fundamental place, like how different people would "fairly" split a cake different ways, or how different experiences of religion would lead groups to differ on how to best respect the history and meaning of Jerusalem, or how to reduce the suffering of a dying pet or relative. But that's background.

Coming back to the mental model thing, my mental model is based on 2 specific things: first, I believe that despite values or goals that may differ, facts and logic never will. Hence if you can understand and accept the premise behind someone's values -> logic -> belief chain, but show them a logical fallacy in their thought process, or if you can show that the facts they were using were incorrect, then you're right and they're wrong, full stop. I'm sure this is obvious, but the corollary is that that's the only time I think you can really say that, and if you're going to make an argument that someone is wrong it has to be on those grounds. That's why I make the distinction between (2) and (3).

(To be clear, none of this is to tell you something you didn't know. But ever since I can remember, I was an existential kid; I often wonder about why I'm thinking or doing literally anything! And when I get in an argument or try to persuade someone of something, I do my best to make my thought process as thought-through as possible to give the highest possible chance of actually learning anything; otherwise what's the point. And if you want to be confident about why you're arguing something specific, you have to have thought about the mechanics of convincing someone of something. And so it goes.)

Anyway, the second specific thing is that, partially by choice and partially not, I am one of those people who tries to assume that all humans do share most values, if you drill down far enough. So yes, I think we all want the same things deep down. I think people do bad things for sure-still-bad-but-understandable reasons. I see people who think or do horrible things as "basically the result of what would happen if, from birth, I lived your life, not that that makes it at all okay." I try and identify when people do stuff out of fear and think, "they must be scared." I try not to ever forget the humanity of people I really fucking hate. Pretty much no one lives their life trying to be a dickbag, and those who do must have had a pretty unusual set of life circumstances to think that's a good idea, yeah?

---

...but all of the above stuff is my thought process 99% of the time. That's the background noise in my brain. If I'm a computer, that's Windows (or, if I'm lucky, MacOS), not the program I'm actually trying to run. That's not what I made this post about, at least originally. The point of this post is to point out that sometimes I realize that all those values and stuff don't really exist.

Because, like, why do I think we should reduce the suffering of the misfortunate? Why do I think everyone should have a voice in decisions that affect them? Why do I think the punishment should be proportional to the crime... oh, wait, no I don't, whoopsie, I think the punishment should be optimized for reducing crime in the aggregate and that only a calculated unfair act deserves a calculated unfairness in return, because the correct value that we share is the betterment and fairness of society, and the common assumption that a small-scale simplistic system of justice makes that happen isn't an accurate fact on which to base a moral argument WHOOPS ANYWAY MOVING ON...

The answer, of course, is because it feels right. I had formative, emotionally deep experiences where people suffered, and it was unfair, and they had no say, and it felt bad and it felt wrong. And I extrapolated my values based on those feelings, and those feelings were put there by chemicals in my body that humans have evolved such that we would form a productive and long-lived society. I may feel like logic and facts are fundamentally right, and I have no choice but to use them, but morals are fundamentally... just what happened to work for humanity to survive. We don't have to choose to prioritize them, or to believe them.

But I do. And I recognize that too is because it makes me feel good to do so. (There's no getting around, from an existential standpoint, that you're made out of the same chemicals as everything else, unless you believe in higher stuff.) And I'm okay with that. "My religion is that the most fundamental feelings I've experienced are worth following" is a statement I'm totally comfortable with.

And if a disagreement boils down to that? Well, I'll go from there.

[wheremytwinwatches]

[Where My Twin Watches]: Puella Magi Madoka Magica Episode 6

*comment on Grief Seeds recharging Magical Girls*

Recharge? I was under the impression that using a Grief Seed increased their total amount of magic, not replaced magic that they use up fighting. That... actually changes a lot of my assumptions. If a MG only has a limited amount of power... Wow, that really turns things around. Magical Girls aren't competing for an increase to their power, but the ability to use their power in the first place! That's not trying to get a Devout Mantle to boost stats, but friggin healing potions so you don't die! No wonder MGs don't normally work together, unless they can be effective enough to get more than twice the Grief Seeds they would normally get then it's a losing prospect. ...and that's what happened to Mami, isn't it? Unlike the other girls we've seen she actively used her power to protect Madoka and Sayaka, and fought Familiars along with Witches. She used up more power than if she had been on her own, she was even showing off to Madoka before she faced the Dessert Witch... and then she ran out of power and couldn't fight back. Still hate Kyoko, though. Keep standing in the corner, you!

Back to the fight! Kyoko’s knocked Sayaka down and is going in for the kill, sudden flash of a Mysterious Transfer Student in the falling water droplets… And our original antagonist has appeared. What is going to happen next? Kyoko is not pleased that another MG just interrupted her battle (if you can call it that, Sayaka got beat up pretty badly there). Ooh, Homura’s doing the ‘move so fast I’m suddenly behind you’ anime thing. Is that her power like Sayaka has super healing, or just because she’s an experienced MG? Kyoko figures out that Homura is the “irregularity” that Kyubey told her about, asks what kind of magic she’s using. Hmm, implies that Homura’s flash-step thing is powerful even among magical girls, probably takes a lot of power. Sayaka demands that the Mysterious Transfer Student get out of the fight (loving the shadows in this scene, Sayaka looks very menacing here), she charges forward… and flash-step Homura smacks her down with a neck chop!... ok good, she’s only unconcious. Still, after she endured that fight with Kyoko, how strong is Homura to stop her with a single attack? And why did she attack her? The jerk magical girl is as confused as I am, asks which side Homura is on. “I am on the side of those who think rationally, and an enemy to those who engage in needless conflict. Which are you… Kyoko Sakura?” Kyoko ‘Sakura’? Oh boy. I’m going to have fun trying to not mix up Sayaka and Sakura, aren’t I? Also holy crap, that name drop. Kyoko picks up on it too, is not happy that the MST who she has next to no info on knows her name. Homura is very noncommittal on answering if they have met before. In any case, Kyoko backs off from the staredown, and wall jumps her way out of the alley. Madoka is coming to grips with the fact that Homura stepped in to save her and Sayaka. Maybe she isn’t so bad? (“civilian-protecting” character trait for the win!) Whoa. Whoa, ok. Sudden shadows and asking “How many times must I warn you? How foolish can you possibly be?” Super-closeup of Homura’s eye as it widens in the biggest emotional display we’ve seen. Yeah, I’m with you, Madoka, that is super intimidating. Damn, this really is Homura’s idea of helping the non-MGs, isn’t it? I can see the twisted logic; if the consequence is death, then almost any means can be used to drive the civilians away from the risks. Wait what. “If reasoning with a fool won’t work, I will turn to more drastic measures.” Wait no. Don’t do that. Please don’t do that. And now she’s walking away while Madoka can only kneel next to the unconscious body of her friend and ask “Why?” Kyubey mentions that it’s certain that she’s planning something. Time to be extra careful. Kyubey? Kyubey, what are you thinking? Do you suspect something about Homura? Care to enlighten us? ... Well that was something. So now we’ve seen Homura actually fight, even if it was against a weakened and inexperienced MG, and I have to say I was impressed. And I can remember her taking down the Dessert Witch, makes sense that instead of it simply missing she was flash-stepping out of the way. That’s a cool power! But what’s disconcerting is that Homura seems to be reaching the end of her patience. From her perspective she’s been warning our characters about the risks, but they keep ignoring her and stumbling forward. Add in that they are interfering with her plan to get what I can now understand as a Super Battery… I don’t think I want to see what she considers to be ‘drastic measures’.

We’re at Sayaka’s place now, going by the ‘Miki’ sign. Looks like she’s recovered from Homura-induced nap and is recharging her Soul Gem. Although is that really the best way to describe it? I mean, the animation is of some sort of black cloud being absorbed by the Grief Seed leaving the Soul Gem all nice and shiny. I don’t know, best explanation I can think of is that it’s supposed to be recycling the energy or whatever. Or actually, maybe it’s more like a lung? Oxygen-depleted cells leave, so oxygen-enriched cells can enter? I don’t know, someone tell me the mechanics of how these gems work, I want to know. Sayaka comments that the Grief Seed looks pitch black now. And Kyubey says that it’s dangerous, too? OH SHIT. “If it absorbs any more impurity, a witch could hatch from it.” SO I THINK I UNDERSTAND SOUL GEM MECHANICS NOW. *Deep breath* Ok, so I’m picturing a Soul Gem as a magic container, for the sake of simplicity I’ll think of ‘magic’ existing in little packets of energy (oxygen-enriched red blood cell). Soul Gem holds this magic, as the MG uses her power the packets are emptied, still existing in the Soul Gem but taking up space (oxygen-depleted red blood cell). With a Grief Seed, the MG can take their depleted magic packets and put it in the Seed, and the Soul Gem is filled with fresh magic packets. But if the packets aren’t completely drained (I assume there’s just enough magic to make the transfer happen), then the Grief Seed is gaining magic where there was previously just empty ‘space’. And if they get enough, a Witch hatches? That’s actually a pretty ingenious system, story-wise. Regardless of where Witches first came from, I actually haven’t seen that many Witches in the show, and they would have to be fairly scarce if MG’s have to compete over them as batteries. But if in the process of fighting Witches the MGs actually cause Witches to hatch again, then the cycle is much more sustainable. Although that still leaves Sayaka with a dangerously-close-to-hatching Grief Seed in her room. Can she take it out of town or something? Or Kyubey can do it for her? … Well. Don’t I feel foolish now. I get all in a fuss about ‘dur I can understand the cycle, it makes sense now’, and then Kyubey goes and eats the Seed. Ok, new theory: Kyubey’s species (are there more of him? We haven’t seen any) somehow through contrivances evolved to feed off of Witches. But come on, we’ve seen absolutely no combat skills from the Rabbit-Thing, the idea that he could fight those monsters is insane. So they recruited Magical Girls to do the hunting for them? I dunno, I know nothing about Kyubey’s species so I’m just guessing wildly. I’ll accept it as part of the story, hope that it gets explained later, and move on. Well, now that Kyubey just ate the magic battery, they should probably get another to replace it. After all, Kyoko was pretty powerful. But if they could get ahold of some extra Grief Seeds, then Sayaka could really let loose and maybe overpower the more experienced Magical Girl in a fight. Sayaka raises a good point, that Grief Seeds mean that a familiar has killed enough people to become a Witch, even if that’s Kyoko’s key to success. Huh, the characters keep describing the recharging process as “cleaning”, and Kyubey says that the more magic Sayaka uses the more polluted her Soul Gem will become. So is the process like chemical buildup in a battery, the emptied magic packets interfere with magic usage? In any case, Sayaka has been decisively shown to be weaker than Kyoko. So the name of the game is “Get more Grief Seeds for the inevitable rematch”! Something tells me that Homura isn’t going to be in favor of this plan. But Mami didn’t stockpile Grief Seeds, did she? And she could blast away all day long. Pfft! “Was she just more talented than me?” “Well, there’s certainly that.” Tact, Kyubey. Learn to use it. Sayaka may be able to fight Witches like the one that caught Madoka and Familars like Crayon Kid from last episode, but she’s feuding with a girl who apparently has both inborn talent and much more experience as a Magical Girl. But there’s someone else with no experience, who’s natural talent would be greater than Food Girl’s? Ah, Madoka. You know, it’s funny. I know that the show is named after her and all, but it’s getting harder and harder to think about Madoka as the Protagonist. Kyubey keeps building up that if she would just Contract and make a Wish (bring Mami back) then her Protagonist Powers could solve whatever problem they’re looking at. I’m starting to get worried that when she eventually does Contract (I said it’s getting harder to place her as the Protagonist, not impossible) that it won’t live up to the hype. But we’re only halfway through the show, so I guess there’s still time. Oh, wow. For all that Kyubey looks like a cute little MG show mascot, I’m starting to see that he has quite a manipulative streak in him. Early on he kept trying to get the girls to Contract, left when they got scared but apparently still stuck around for when Sayaka changed her mind, and called in an outside MG not long after Mami left. And now he’s telling the “Ally of Justice” that if she can’t beat her enemy, then she could always ask her too-kind friend to do it in her place? Huh. This show is doing an excellent job of giving characters multiple motivations. Homura seems to be trying to protect non-MGs while still growing her power, Sayaka became an “Ally of Justice” to heal Kamijo with an unfortunate intent of earning his gratitude, and now the show’s mascot is recruiting girls to both Fight the Good Fight and to get a food supply. I don’t think I expected anything this complex in terms of characterization when I started this show. Yeah, Kyubey is definitely interested in Madoka becoming another Lunch Lady, I mean Magical Girl. Sayaka refuses, says that it is her fight, she won’t let her get dragged into it. Props for spirit, Sayaka, but you kinda got trounced that last time. The next day… Food Girl! Apparently eating pocky (in defiance of the No Food sign, you rebel you) and playing a DDR arcade machine. Don’t think I didn’t notice the theme music there, show. Homura? Didn’t expect you to check out a place like this, what’s your business with Kyoko? If you’re going to fight, could you maybe move away from all the electronics? Kyoko asks what the Mysterious Transfer Student wants. Homura says- ...I’m sorry, could you repeat that? “I want to put this city in your charge.” Aw. Aw no. This is ‘drastic measures’, isn’t it? Kyoko want’s to know why the change, Homura says that it’s girls like her that are most suited to be MGs. Damn, you really don’t have much faith in Sayaka, do you? To choose the person who is on record for wanting people to die for a guaranteed Grief Seed, rather than the “Ally of Justice”. Uh, random cat in the game? That was odd. Oh! “Settled as peaceably as possible”? Ok good, you still are showing some restraint, Homura. I was getting worried you were planning a hit on the girl. She wants Kyoko to stay out of it, while she handles it herself. Um. Maybe I spoke too soon, Homura has a pretty broad definition of “peaceful”. Food Girl raises a good point: what’s in all this for Homura? I mean, if this plan to “peacefully” remove Sayaka from the territory works out then Kyoko would get the territory, and Homura would lose the ability to get new Grief Seeds. Or is she planning to take out Kyoko once all this is over? “Two weeks from now, “Walpurgisnact” will descend upon this city.” Wally-watsit? I think that might be German, but I don’t want to look up translations in case I get spoiled. Can anyone fill me in on the meaning? Huh, Kyoko’s still dancing but she’s looking a lot more serious now, asks how Homura knows that. MST refuses to say, gotta stay mysterious! But she seems to be recruiting Kyoko to defeat it, in exchange for her leaving the city to Kyoko. Defeat it? Coming in two weeks? Could it be…. Is Walpurgisnact the Giant Flying Thing from the vision? Kyoko’s saying that it would be pretty tough for Homura to beat it by herself, but if they work together they could probably win. Ok, so let me lay this out: -The thing is called ‘Walpurgisnact’ -It is coming in two weeks -Homura knows this but refuses to reveal sources -It’s too tough for a single MG to face alone -In return for aid in fighting it, Homura will leave the city to Kyoko Add it all together and what do we get? Wally-watsit is probably a Witch, notable for being the only in-show named Witch I’ve seen so far (assuming we aren’t supposed to be able to read the title card runes just yet to know the previous names). This Witch having a name indicates that MGs have faced it before, and either lost or it put up a big enough fight that it’s commonly known by experienced MGs. To paraphrase Space Batman: "When the magical girls name a Witch, you know you're in trouble. They don't think anyone is going to kill it.") If Familiars are pseudo-Witches that don’t drop Grief Seeds and Witches do drop the magic batteries, then a Super Witch like Wally is shaping up to be could have a proportionately more powerful Grief Seed. In other words, my theory was right! Homura is after a Super Battery. Guessing that she knows the exact date of the arrival because her ‘secret sources’ are just that that’s the time she will summon it, in order to try and get the Super Grief Seed. And heck, if she’s strong relative to Kyoko without it, then with the SGS she could probably win, no problem. All she has to do is keep her distracted until she can grab it. Like say, promising her the prime territory of Anime City? Or maybe she is legit, won’t need the territory when she has the SGS. Woo! Alright, good feeling to have a theory validated in this show, instead of getting wrecked once Kyubey has a snack. Kyoko finishes her game with a flourish and offers Homura some pocky. Given that she’s been shown eating practically-nonstop this entire time, I’m taking this as a sign of trust and agreement. Houston, we have plot! Homura is confirmed to be going after the Super Grief Seed, Kyoko's been promised the city but I can’t imagine she’ll just pass on the SGS when she realizes that’s what it’s all about, and Sayaka’s looking for a leg-up to face off against Food Girl after their first fight. Now I’m picturing that our two teams (Homura and Kyoko of ‘Team Antagonist’ and Sayaka and Madoka of ‘Team Protagonist’) are going to be in a race to prepare for and try for the SGS. Things are going to get interesting! Or maybe my predictions get completely jossed a few minutes later in the show. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised.

We open in the alleyway where they fought earlier, the walls have huge gashes in them and the ground is all smashed up. I wonder what whoever owns/maintains the alleyway will think caused all the damage. Madoka walks up as Kyubey reports that too much time has passed, they can’t track the Familiar that Kyoko let get away. Madoka pipes up, asks if they won’t run into Food Girl again if Sayaka keeps hunting Witches like this. Given the likelihood, maybe she could seek out Kyoko and try talking first? ...Madoka, I love you and all, but you did see the fight last night, right? I think that they’re a little past the talking stage. “‘Fighting’, you say?” Oh dear. Sayaka has to break it to our All-Loving main character that last night was a fight to the death. After the first few blows, that Kyoko intended to put Sayaka in the hospital with, they were really trying to off the other. These are still middle-school girls, right? And now the show’s reached the point that our main character’s best friend was really trying to kill another girl? “Ally of Justice”, remember Sayaka? I want to say “don’t let other Magical Girls drag you to their level. You’re better than this.” But Kyoko, the girl willing to let people become Witch Food for Grief Seeds, was really trying to kill Sayaka. You can’t really reason with that. Yeah, you’re reeeealy reaching there, Madoka. You want Friendship to happen, but you’re asking your “Ally of Justice” friend to work with someone with a different “method”. I can admire your idealism, but it’s not matching up to reality. Please stop, Madoka. You mean well, but now you’ve brought up Homura. After her association with Mami’s death and her knocking out Sayaka, she really doesn’t have the best reputation to your friend. Yeah, Sayaka’s pointing out how she didn’t show up until after Mami died. ...wait, you do know Mami tied her up first, right? You weren’t there, but didn’t Madoka tell you what happened? Madoka, please speak up. You need to tell Sayaka what happened, she’s making some bad connections right now. I mean sure, we know that they’re working together, and they both value Grief Seeds, but Homura is shaping up as a lite version of Kyoko now. Homura wouldn’t let people die just so she can get Grief Seeds… right? What the hell is happening, I’m trying to defend the girl whose first action in the show was to threaten Madoka’s family. For good reasons, but still- See?! I’m trying to justify even that now! Well done Urobuchi, you’ve made Homura my new Zuko. Aw jeez, Sayaka’s really going to a dark place here. “Mami was the one exception”? Sure, out of the very, very few Magical Girls you have met so far. You can’t just lump everyone else in with two bad apples, they could be good. Jebus, Sayaka! I understand you’re trying to make a point, but now you’re dragging Madoka’s family into it! Her Dad, Mom, little Tatsuya… “Could you forgive those who stood by and let them get killed?” Please, Sayaka, Madoka is our All-Loving character, please don’t break her. Argh, Sayaka keeps turning my words against me. She wanted the strength to protect those she loved, but now she’s seeing enemies pop up everywhere. Protecting others is a noble goal, but I’m worried that she’s going to pull a Homura, and start using sketchier and sketchier ends to reach it. I mean, protecting others is Good, right? So how could someone striving for that goal be anything but Good? But- Argh. Sayaka, please. I am begging you. Don’t lose sight of who you are. Damn it! Sayaka’s sworn to fight “humans who are worse than Witches”. This is not a good pattern, Sayaka. First it was Witches, to protect human lives. But now you’re targeting humans who you think are “worse than Witches”. Can’t you see how this contradicts itself? See what you’ve done, Sayaka? You’ve made Madoka cry. I hope you feel good about yourself. Sayaka’s walked away, Madoka pleads for Kyubey to say something, anything. All he can say is that she’s being too reckless. (“I mean, if she keeps this up then I’ll be down a Magical Lunch Lady!”) Right now she has no hope of facing either of the two Magical Girls, not that she’d ever admit it to Madoka. Later that night, Madoka’s sleeping when a door opens downstairs. Mother coming back from another work bender? Up, she’s downstairs taking a drink of something that I suspect is not water. Madoka comes down, asks if they can talk. With a glass of something that I hope is not alcoholic, she starts talking about how one of her friends is in a lot of trouble. Madoka doesn’t think what she’s doing or saying is wrong, but… yeah, ‘but’. She keeps trying to do right, to do Good, but things keep getting worse. Mother admits that that happens a lot, just because your intentions are Good doesn’t mean you get a happy ending. And you can get so sure that your way is right that you refuse to listen to anything else. All matching Sayaka for a tee so far, she’s turning into quite the paladin, isn’t she? This is a pretty big life lesson for anyone to hear, especially innocent little Madoka, but it’s one that has to happen. It’s hard to accept that not everything can be resolved with a neat and tidy end, without harming anyone. But given the alternative… I mean, we’re already planning to use the Wish to bring Mami back, I don’t know if it can bring back two. “Then you should make a mistake for her.” Huh, that’s an interesting way to think about it. “If you can see there’s no way for your friend’s problem to end in but disaster, it’s be better for her to crash and burn sooner rather than later.” Sayaka will sure as hell not appreciate it at first, but it really is for the best. Better to do this than to give up on her and watch her lose. Madoka really is a good girl, isn’t she? She’s been a good kid. But now she may need to grow up, learn how to make mistakes and keep going. Aw. I can understand it, but I really don’t want Madoka to ‘grow up’. I don’t want this show to be about her losing her ideals, to survive in the greater world. I can understand it, but I don’t like it. Heh, Mother really is a good mom, isn’t she? She doesn’t talk down to Madoka, but gives her the best explanation she can. (I mean, she doesn’t know how serious Madoka’s situation is, but it’s still good advice). And she softens the lesson about how adults are always suffering from their mistakes, but hey, they get to drink alcohol! You go, Alcoholic Protagonist Mom. Bleh, that was a heavy conversation. I am growing increasingly worried from Sayaka’s aggressive attitude toward Magical Girling, and worried that Madoka is going to start suffering some real-world character growth. Hopefully she can head off Sayaka’s path without compromising herself too much.

Sayaka’s walking up to a large door, is about to knock when a violin starts up. Oh, visiting Kamijo outside of the hospital? Probably best not to interrupt practice, so GAH sudden drum noise and Kyoko watching her, eating a churro(?) menacingly. And I mean that in all seriousness, it is terrifying to see that Kyoko was apparently tracking Sayaka. If she hadn’t promised Homura to back off... Food Girl taunts Sayaka about leaving without seeing Kamijo, after she apparently spent all day following him. Um. And oh crap she’s saying she knows Sayaka is pining after the “little rich boy who lives here”. Talk about a hot-button issue of Sayaka’s. I can see Kyoko’s excuse now: “Oh, I was just trying to talk to the new girl, and she blew up over some small comment I made and attacked. I had to defend myself!” *chomp* Now she’s insulting Sayaka for using her Wish on Kamijo. “Magic is only supposed to be used to grant wishes for yourself. If you use it for somebody else, it always ends up going bad.” Well, I get Mami’s warning about the consequences of a Wish, but we’ve only seen hers and Sayaka’s so far, no idea what Homura or Kyoko Wished for. Oh no, you don’t get to name-drop Mami, you red-headed jerk! WOW. Ok, so Kyoko just advised Sayaka that if she wants Kamijo that badly, she should just bust in and go all Annie Wilkes on his limbs, so he can’t do anything without her. Sayaka does not approve, so then Kyoko offers to bust him up for her, “as a favor”. I have to admit that that’s some pretty skillful threatening, up there with the hallway from Ep 1. Yup, that’s pushed Sayaka over the edge, she’s challenging Kyoko again. Gah, you are getting played like a violin here, Sayaka. Kyoko says they should go somewhere less visible. Madoka’s back at her house typing on what looks like a holographic keyboard (I want this future tech!) for some English homework, as she thinks about Mother’s advice. Suddenly, Kyubey! “Hey Madoka, one of my meal tickets is in trouble, you’ve got to come quick!” So apparently a lit bridge over a busy highway is what Kyoko thinks as ‘less visible’. We get to see Kyoko’s transformation sequence, and Sayaka’s getting ready to follow suit when Madoka and Kyubey come running up. Sayaka says that they should get out of the way while Madoka pleads for her to stop. Hey, how dare you call Madoka an annoying friend! WHOA WHAT THE HELL Ok, that was seriously creepy. I paused as Kyoko was calling Madoka annoying (grr), hit play and then suddenly the next frame Homura is standing right behind Sayaka, it’s paused again as she’s dissing Kyoko (probably annoyed that Kyoko tried to go behind Homura’s back to remove Sayaka), Food Girl hasn’t even noticed she’s there yet. Hah, serves you right, Kyoko. Homura reminds Kyoko that this fight wasn’t what they agreed on. Kyoko tries to claim that Sayaka isn’t backing down, Homura flash-steps behind Kyoko again and… uh oh. As amusing as it is for Homura to be using the power of flash-steps to keep Kyoko off balance, she just said that she’d take on Sayaka herself. Well crud. At least she probably won’t kill Sayaka? Kyoko says she’ll give Homura until she finishes her pocky, Homura says that’s all she needs. Sadly she’s probably right. Sayaka does not approve of this condescension and prepares to fight the Mysterious Transfer Student. Madoka’s rushing forward? Holy crap! I’m psychic! Tephi asked me for predictions, and I guessed that Madoka would steal Sayaka’s Soul Gem and give it to Homura to prevent a fight! And what just happened? Madoka stole Sayaka’s Soul Gem! Maybe it’s a mistake to give it to the MST, but it’s better than a fight. Oooor instead of giving it to Homura, she’ll throw it off the bridge… well, that works too? So is the Soul Gem going to get crushed by a car, or… nope, landed on top of a truck. I don’t think that Sayaka can transform without it, so that fixes things. Although it might make getting her back to power for the finale a bit difficult. Wow, Homura looked surprised and just flash-stepped away. The animators must have had a field day when they realized that they could represent Homura’s power by just not drawing her from one frame to another. It’s a neat effect. And now I guess she’ll go and get the Soul Gem. Cool, one of my theories are actually holding up for once! Yeah, Sayaka is pissed right now. But it’s for the best Wait Wait what Why did Sayaka just slump down? Why are her eyes blank? “No matter how mad you are, shouldn’t throw your own friend away like that.” ...’s Soul Gem? Translation error? ...what do you mean, “She’s dead”? Did...what… Homura’s flash-stepping after the truck with Sayaka’s Soul Gem… Soul Gem… WHAT “It’s because the furthest you magical girls can control your bodies would be within about a 100 meter radius.” Is this really happening. “Madoka, that isn’t Sayaka. It’s just an empty shell.” This is really happening. “Sayaka is what you just threw away a moment ago.” Kyoko is clutching her own… Soul Gem… in shock. Did… did she not know? Homura’s caught up with the truck carrying Sayaka’s… So. You’re telling me that a Soul Gem isn’t some fancifully-named piece of Magical Girl gear like a Star Power Stick or Moon Prism Tiara or whatever, but a literal translation? “Did you really think you could fight witches with the same fragile bodies that humans possess?” Homura is now on the truck. “For magical girls, those so-called ‘bodies’ that you possess are really just exterior hardware.” Close up of the small ornate blue crystal as Homura picks it up. “Your real bodies are your souls, and in order to make them able to use magic more efficiently, we put them in these compact, easy-to-protect forms instead.” Homura is holding Sayaka’s Soul Gem, just looking at it. “To complete the contract to become a magical girl, what I do is rip your souls out of your bodies and turn them into Soul Gems.” I… Kyoko is royally pissed right now. She really didn’t know? Except for Homura for some reason, nobody knew? Kyubey knew he was turning these girls into...into… ...into LICHS and he didn’t even tell them?! WHAT. THE. FUCK. Homura? You can sit in the fluffy armchair. Kyoko? You can have Homura’s old seat. Kyubey? Congrats, you are officially Number One on The List. Kyoko has grabbed Kyubey by the ear and is yelling at him about turning them into zombies. Apparently she hasn’t played D&D before, they are by any definition I know of lichs. I am watching a show where the teenage girl characters are undead magic users who have their souls contained in small external objects. What the fuck. And… all Kyubey can say is “But isn’t it handy this way?” “Even if your body’s heart gets crushed, or you bleed out your very last drop of blood, you can just heal your bodies with magic and get right back up!” Wait, but… how did Mami die then? If they are… lichs… then she should have been able to recover from even a head attack! “So long as your Soul Gem remains unharmed, you’re basically invincible!” Wait… she wore her Soul Gem as a hairpin, didn’t she? Oh mother fracker. Mami didn’t know. Kyubey didn’t tell her either?! So she took no extra care to keep what she (and I) thought was just a magic channeling tool safe from harm, and then chomp, and… “Isn’t that a lot better for battle than those breakable human bodies?” ...Kyubey really isn’t human, isn’t he? Or whatever word better describes “not of our moral understanding”. He’s just listing off the advantages of being a lich, even as Madoka says that it’s too horrible for words. “You humans always react this way. Whenever I try to tell you the simple facts, you inevitably have the same reaction. I just don’t get it.” STOP SMILING. “Why are humans so touchy about the placement of their souls?” Kill him, Kyoko. Kill him, Kyoko. Wait. The Soul Gem’s back! Homura just put it in Sayaka’s… in the hand of Sayaka’s body. She’s breathing! Sayaka’s back! And she can’t remember what happened? “What is it?” *End Credits* Son. Of. A. Bitch! ...where do I begin? So Soul Gems are actually containers for the literal souls of Magical Girls. No, actually before even that. Souls are a proven thing in this setting, given how Kyubey can apparently tear them out and stuff them into jewelry. Which implies an afterlife… Magical Girls channel magic through their actual souls. Is that in any way healthy? They clean their Gems using Grief Seeds from Witches. In what setting ever has using parts of monsters in any proximity to your soul end well? Although this one does work in reverse of the normal pattern… Kyubey knew. Homura knows, but Mami, Kyoko, and Sayaka didn’t. Kyubey didn’t think it worth mentioning that the Contract would tear their souls from their bodies. Magical Girls control their former bodies like meat puppets, and they can heal any damage so long as they presumably have magic and an intact Soul Gem. Does that extend to gradual damage, like wear from lack of food or sleep or aging? Can Magical Girls change their own bodies, stay looking younger? I- HOLY SHIT It makes sense now. I actually understand Homura. You take a Magical Girl. She starts killing Witches, maybe even makes a few friends of both MGs and non-MGs. But the other MGs die from Witches, and the Magical Girl who can control her aging will outlive her non-MG friends. She starts moving from place to place to avoid connections and get fresh territory, just focusing on getting Grief Seeds to maintain her magic. She needs a cover story to explain why she travels. Class, I would like you to meet Ms. Homura Akemi the Mysterious Transfer Student. … Did this show seriously create the sort of undead character that Stephanie Myers should have written, instead of the Clan of the Sparkles? ... After Credits Scene: An illustration of the four Magical Girls we’ve seen so far. Their bodies are completely dark, the only color is their heads and their small Soul Gems. Mind and Soul… Kyubey is talking: “Before you took on this destiny of battling Witches, wasn’t there a wish you wanted granted? That wish has really come true, hasn’t it?” SHUT UP. Next Episode: “Episode 7: Can you face your true feelings?”

[playunderground]

Introducing OVERSOUL: An Interview with Derrick Saladino

Last month, I had the pleasure of sitting down with Derrick Saladino to talk about his brand, OVERSOUL. When he pitched OVERSOUL to me in his initial email, he described it as “a lifestyle brand created from identity crisis,” and that “counterculture/subcultures like anime, gamer, emo-punk, euro-techno, and underground hiphop/b-boy culture heavily influence the brand’s creative direction.” I stared hard at the first two influences, and then stared not-as-hard at the rest of the influences, wondering how these various subcultures could overlap.

My brain being comprised of worms and dirt, I assumed that the anime and gamer influences meant that the designs were going to look like Bart Drinking Lean or Sasuke Wearing Supreme. (In other words, a caricature of anime-inspired Instagram ad streetwear.) This assumption changed quickly after taking a look at OVERSOUL’s site. Their first collection, ISEKAI, is comprised of three pieces. The logo tee and hoodie both look great, but the third piece was what really caught my attention: it’s a button-down tee adorned with daggers. At a glance, it looks nothing like anime- or gaming-inspired clothing. This was the point at which I snapped out of my irony-poisoned haze; the world of memeified, ironic-but-not-quite-ironic hentai tees and Goku Smoking Weed edits had calcified my expectations of what forms of inspiration a brand could and couldn’t pull.

It makes sense in the context of the rest of his influences and the ethos that he operates under – to get ahead of myself for a second, Derrick had this to say of his interest in various countercultures:

"When people express their passions or life to a certain degree, it just pulls me in. It’s like, ‘Okay, I don’t know what the fuck it is, but show me. Let me indulge.’ That’s really how I get into things."

In talking to Derrick, on and off the record, I saw a talented designer who was unapologetic about what he was interested in and passionate about. He’s also a huge geek that runs a bi-weekly Smash tournament at a local nightclub.

(This interview has been edited for length and clarity.)

"Okay, wait, first and foremost, my name is Derrick Saladino and I am a fucking gamer. Before being a designer or anything, I am a fucking gamer. "

Daniel: What is OVERSOUL? 

Derrick: OVERSOUL is about identity crisis. It’s my experience dealing with that personally. Growing up, I never really fit in to particular popular groups. Every time I would attempt to make new friends, I would stumble upon the randomest shit: anime culture, gamer culture, I’d end up becoming friends with a lot of emo-punk kids, techno. Nothing that I fell into was mainstream, popular culture. It was a lot to do with being lonely and trying to make friends. With OVERSOUL, thinking about all that kind of shit, dealing with identity crisis – obviously there’s a lot of people who’ve been through that – I want to create a new identity or community of people who share similar values and, you know, take pride in it? 

I mean, even the name, OVERSOUL, I ripped the word from this really old anime that I used to watch growing up, Shaman King.

Shaman King? What the hell, like 4Kids shit?

Yeah. That wasn’t the first anime that I ever watched, but it was something that I was really into. From being like 12 to even later in my high school, I just loved it. The concept was so cool – taking a soul and imbuing it in an object to make it powerful. It just looked fuckin’ sick. When people wear my clothes, I want them to feel empowered. That’s how I want people to see it. Soul being clothing, putting it on yourself, there you go.

Spirit Integration is, I don’t think the tagline to the brand, but it’s also part of it. Spirit Integration is mind, body, and spirit, and for anyone into the spiritual side of life, that’s what makes us. Our thoughts and mind and DNA – that makes us who we are.

When I read the description on your site, I noted that you referred to OVERSOUL as not just a startup streetwear thing or a brand, but a conceptual design experience. What does this encompass, and why did you pick this specific wording?

None of the stuff I make or have made in the past is very conventional. It’s been pretty avant-garde, I would say. I’ll have an idea, and regardless of whatever trend is going on right now, I just fucking do it. When I make clothes, I’m not making clothes for the public, really. My mentality is more like, “You know what would be sick in a game? If the costume looked like this.” That’s why I say it’s a conceptual design experience.

Has being involved in the industry and working behind the scenes affected how you understand your own brand after launching? What about how you understand customers and other brands, now that you know what the design process is like?

First-off, let me just back up and go over a history of what I did before OVERSOUL. In high school, I made clothing because I hated what everyone else was wearing. This was 2011-2013. During that time, that’s when I had a brand and brands like Obey, Diamond Supply, and The Hundreds – literally peak Tumblr hypebeast, Zumiez, starter pack shit – were around. I looked around at everyone else and was like, “I can’t click that, it’s not resonating with me.”  I had two other brands after that, and then came OVERSOUL. So I have this history of kind of knowing the market, even being a consumer, and evolving as a businessman and designer. I don’t think anything has changed. I think I’ve always stayed true to doing my own shit, rather than trying to compete with everybody else. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll notice what other designers are doing and some things I’ll take note of or inspo from but I hardly think about other people, to be honest. I respect everyone’s hustle, I just can’t be doing the same shit.

Give me your top 3 video game fits.

Top 3, oh my god. Snake from Metal Gear Solid V – very techwear, utility as fuck. My previous brand before this was techwear, and I had to stop it because techwear is so hard to sell. 

I’m really into draping fashion. Cloud, Final Fantasy VII, it was the movie Advent Children – you play Smash, right? There’s two costumes in there: the black, and like this, not really skirt, but it covers up somewhat? All-black, huge sash going on, it reminded me of Yohji Yamamoto.

Something that I’m going to make in the future is inspired by Naoto from Blazblue. His outfit, I looked at it and I was like, “Yo, this could be fucking, like Chrome Hearts, like what the fuck? I’m just gonna abuse this character design, it looks amazing.” I think that fashion right now, what really gets people’s attention on social media, is just some crazy shit, I don’t mean dumb shit, but like, just has to be very bold, and I think that’s what Naoto’s character design is. His pants have this huge cross on them. I think that’s one of the most crazy things I’ve seen in awhile.

Let’s talk about Anime-den! It’s this thing that we started roughly 5 months ago. One of my best friends here, he actually works at Fortune [Sound Club, a nightclub in Chinatown], and he’s a music producer. We really bonded over clothes, anime and gaming, and we had this idea – I think we were just high as fuck one day – and I’m like, “Yo, you know what would be fucking dope? If we brought weeb shit into the club.” I think he was just joking around, but he was like, “That would be really fun to set up, we can do it.” 

[Weeb being short for weaboo, a pejorative term referring to those obsessed with Japanese culture to the point of fetishization and idolization. It’s been ‘reclaimed’ by some fans of anime, used ironically as a form of self-deprecation.]

So, the next day happens, we’re talking, and he asks me, “Do you actually wanna do it?”, taking it seriously. I’m astonished. I was fucking joking, you know? We were just some high guys. He pitches the idea to Fortune and they approve it. At this point, we’re like, “Okay, we gotta actually invest all our effort into this,” because we’re actually gonna do something that I personally haven’t seen anybody do before – bringing a game into a club, anime into the club.

It’s really cool. Just yesterday, the commentator from Vancouver Street Battle came to Anime-den. Pride? He commentated for Battle of BC 3 and Pinnacle. He has ties with Animebae, too. [Animebae is a local anime-inspired startup streetwear brand.] Who would’ve thought that this guy would come through? And he brought his friends. He was telling us that what we’re doing is sick, and hearing this from a guy of that calibre in the gaming or Smash community, it really shook us. We’re actually bringing in people who play the game seriously here. 

How has setting it in a club made it different from other tournaments that you’ve been to? How does the dynamic change?

It’s a little different because when it comes to actual competitive events, people have a different mentality when they enter. They’re there to win and they practice hard for it. As for Anime-den, it’s the total opposite. It’s very casual, we’re all just drinking, blazing, whatever. It’s just the environment where, you know, dim light in a club, there’s music going on in the back –I guess to some gamers it can seem distracting? But I think people, they don’t care. They just play. They’re just there to have fun. Totally different dynamic from an actual event. 

I think that the purpose of Anime-den is to bring people together. That’s literally what Anime-den is for.

Yeah, I just noted here that I think it’s consistent with your brand, in that you’re translating the intangibility of these digital spaces like anime and gaming that people bond over, and you’re putting it into a physical space and letting people actually further develop what these subcultures would look like in person. Like, when you think of anime or gaming in real life you think of Anime Expo or cosplaying or some shit – and that’s fine, people have fun with that [Editor’s note – I think it’s fun!] – but it’s not the only mode of expression. With events like this, I think it’s cool that you’re saying, “If you’re a gamer, there’s another avenue for you. You don’t have to dress up or anything…”

I mean, walking in today and meeting you, you wouldn’t have gotten the idea that I was super into anime or gaming. I just look like a regular dude, right? And my clothing gets inspired by it, but I don’t really look like I’m cut from the legit anime cloth. Choosing these lifestyles and putting it into this real aspect, I think it can appeal to everybody. People tend to judge a lot of things, but once you step into the Anime-den room, whatever perspective you have about anime to begin with, I’m pretty sure that changes. Man, the crowd, they look all the same as you do too. We’re all normal people, we just like cool shit.

I think we should talk about ISEKAI.

OVERSOUL’s first small collection was ISEKAI. Translated to English, it would be ‘a better world,’ and I named it that based off of the anime genre, isekai. When you watch these sort of things, it’s usually someone going to another world. For my first collection, I wanted to welcome people to my world. That’s why I chose ISEKAI. One of the big graphics for the brand was the blade shirt. [On the site, it’s name is the Beginners Dagger Shirt.] My reference for that was playing MMORPGs. Typically, the first weapon you get [in MMORPGs] is a short sword or dagger. I wanted to be like, “This is the start of my brand.” This is your starter item. It’s funny, when I tell people this – they’re always like, “I never thought…”

[laughs] It’s really cool!

That’s why I went with ISEKAI. This is what my world is. One of OVERSOUL’s long-term goals is actually establishing ‘my world,’ if that makes sense? There’s only a handful of designers who have, like, captured a signature silhouette. For example, Rick Owens. When you see [a Rick Owens piece], you know it’s Rick Owens. If Zara did the same shit as Rick Owens, you would look at it and be like, “That’s Rick Owens.” You wouldn't call it Zara. That’s what I’m trying to establish for myself, to create that silhouette for myself eventually in the future.

What’s up next for OVERSOUL? 

Hmm, how should I put this... should I leak something? I’m going to drop an accessories part sometime soon. That’s in the design process right now, but I’m looking forward to doing my next big collection.

There’s this one song that I found in the past during my peak weeb days: Plastic Love by Mariya Takeuchi. A couple of months ago, they released the first official music video for it, after like 35 years, which is fucking insane – they should have done that a long time ago. I totally forgot about the song until I saw the music video. It’s something that I could relate to before and can relate to now, and I definitely want to build my next collection based on Plastic Love.

I think Plastic Love works really well because I’m surrounded by that scene in Vancouver – I work in Yaletown, and that’s the Yaletown lifestyle. It’s very lustful, but you don’t care. It’s all fake shit, really. That’s what Yaletown culture sorta is. I wouldn’t say that I’m like that, but I think that I could definitely expand on the topic through my brand. It’s not necessarily identity crisis, but the genre and artist kind of make it a subculture.

There’s also a few collabs on the way. One with a music group, another with a tattoo artist. What I really wanna do with the tattoo artist – he does anime tattoos – is ero art. Like, erotica. I think it’s a slept-on art style. It’s not generally for the public, per se, so I think that it would be something worth making. Super ecchi, maybe line art. I want it very exaggerated, even bondage-type shit. 

There’s a lot of things where people are like, “Oh, that’s too much!” But you know what, it could be sick! This is why I do things solely for myself. As long as I get a reaction from somebody, I’m happy with that. Wanting a response, not even approval, just being acknowledged, that this shit exists, it motivates me to keep doing what I do. 

I thought about doing graphic design shit; anime erotica art goes really well with techno. That kind of scene, the way that European style posters are, if you take the art and fuse them together, it works really well. I’m like, “How come no one has done this yet?” 

So you’re treating it more like art and not just a part of anime culture?

I view anime as its own respective art, and with art, there’s no rules, so I can just take this and this, and bang. At the end of the day, everybody wants to see new and cool things. People are always going to have their own subjective opinions, but as long as you have their attention, you’ve already won the battle. That’s the mentality that I carry, that everyone has their own opinions. 

Last question: what are your top 5 video games?

You know, I was trying to prepare for this interview – I didn’t even think this would come up.

[laughs] Come on, man.

I’m gonna put Super Smash Bros. Melee on there – I’ve been playing it for so long, it’s literally been bonded with my DNA. 

I don’t wanna say Ocarina of Time, because I think that it’s everyone’s favourite, but I mean, it’s still up there. It’s an all-time masterpiece, but I enjoyed Majora’s Mask a lot more. The concept of the world being blown up by the moon, in-game time, the moon crashes in like 3 days, and you keep going back in time, skipping whatever, I think it was so much fun, so yeah. 

I really like Fire Emblem: Three Houses. It’s very recent, but I have so many hours on it already, and I can’t stop. I haven’t felt this way about a game in a long time. It’s so replayable. Once you finish Ocarina of Time, you probably don’t touch it for a while. When you play FE, you’re like, okay, let’s do the next one. There’s three houses! Even after doing all three, it’s like, “Oh, I’m gonna try again, but I’m gonna make this character like this.”

I grew up playing a lot of Roller Coaster Tycoon, unfortunately, but it’s fun. It’s not a typical gamer thing, but I love it. 

I might put Final Fantasy VII on there, too – when Aerith died, I real-life teared up, like, “Dude, no way, you’re really gonna kill her off like that? You gotta save her!”… and then she dies. I’m pretty sure after that happened, I didn’t touch the game for a week. I was actually emotionally harmed. I’m really into RPGs – being able to emotionally attach yourself to characters, I think it’s a beautiful thing. 

Any last things you wanna say?

I want my brand comparable to Chrome Hearts, MISBHV or Rude [Vogue]; when they have their own aesthetic and that’s what they do, that’s what I want to build as well. The idea that I take a lot of inspiration from gaming, it really shows.

Maybe I’m hungover, so I can’t really find the words right now, but for anyone trying to do fashion, music, whatever, as saturated as the community seems at the moment, you just have to get your foot in the door and start. Yeah, there’s competition, but to be honest, with all the people here who have brands, I’m friends with all of the people who make them, and I have no judgement about if their clothes are wack or not. Some things I don’t agree with, but everyone’s on the same hustle.

OVERSOUL’s ISEKAI collection is available now online at oversoul.online. 

[v-shigaraki-archive]

It’s not a good idea and Shigaraki knows it.

But that’s never stopped him before.

He knows that he isn’t thinking straight—that between Dabi’s near-death and that poorly planned confrontation with Hawks, he simply hasn’t had enough time to properly dissect everything that’s happened. And a part of him knows that the real reason he’s allowing impulse and recklessness to rule the vast majority of his decision-making is because he’s trying to run away from the thing that really scares him; the unrest and uncertainty and fear that’s bubbling just below the surface of his skin, threatening to—

(There’s no time for that. Focus on the task at hand.)

Hawks. The League’s Hawks. Not that fucking piece of shit double agent that’s been working with Mystery for who knows how fucking long. In a hospital, in police custody. Because of his fucking mistake, because he wanted to try and take matters into his own hands when he should have been looking at the bigger picture.

Aren’t you making the same mistake again — 

(Shut up shut up shut up.)

Hawks is in danger and it’s Shigaraki’s fault. He knows that too. And the least he can do is take some fucking responsibility, right?

Wrong.

His only lead is the text message he had received from the Other Hawks, and even then, Shigaraki can hardly count it as a proper lead because—if he’s learned anything from the past two hours—it’s that the Other Hawks obviously can’t be fucking trusted and is nothing more than a piece of shit that—

(Focus.)

Shigaraki decides to use the message as a guide for exactly what not to do.

It’s the dead of night, but the hospital is buzzing with activity; security guards swarm the parking lot and the main entrance, and for a half-second, Shigaraki feels himself almost hesitate.

Almost.

He doesn’t have time for such things, really.

His pace quickens into a faster walk (people are starting to notice that he’s edging closer to where he shouldn’t be), then to a light jog (oh, how funny, it’s like they’re moving in slow-motion, like they don’t even realize what they’re up against, oh how fucking hilarious), and then to a full-on sprint, a dangerous gleam in his eye as he rushes through the crowd—hands out and fingers fully splayed with the intention to fight, to kill.

They don’t even have the time to scream.

(Faster, you have to move fucking faster—)

The glass doors slide open for him with nonexistent resistance. “I’m looking for someone.” It’s a blunt statement, one that isn’t particularly descriptive, but it’s not like he’s actually expecting someone to help him. He’s not fucking stupid.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the half-awake receptionist begins, wiping the sleep from her eyes as she slowly turns to look at him—

Too late.

His hand, trembling almost uncontrollably from the burst of adrenaline, wraps itself around her throat and she begins to crumble to dust before his very eyes.

The emergency sirens are blaring now.

Fuck.

Shigaraki really doesn’t have time to think about his next move now.

So he just keeps running.

That bastard had taken Hawks to the hospital nearest to their fight—and because they had met up in the slums, it means that the hospital is a relatively small one. Logically, the security will be tightest right outside Hawks’ door, and so that’s what Shigaraki will have to keep his eye out for. Though with those fucking sirens going off, his job’s certainly become more… difficult.

“Keep your eye out for the intruder—he apparently eliminated the entire preliminary guard in seconds—!”

Shigaraki doesn’t notice the footsteps and voices until after he’s turned the corner. Some sort of projectile quirk grazes the skin of his shoulder, leaving behind a stinging station that begins to quickly evolve into numbness; on his other side, a man with a speed-enhancing, animal-like quirk has lunged and grabbed onto his arm, sinking his teeth into the villain’s flesh.

But Shigaraki’s thoughts are so frantic that he hardly even registers any of the pain.

He’s still running when he twists his torso sharply to the left, the momentum swinging his near-numb arm close enough to grab at the scruff of the guardsman’s neck. The sensation of the decay is enough to make the guard release his bite in order to release an ear-splitting scream. With his newly freed arm, Shigaraki repositions the decaying guard in front of him to serve as a human shield, putting enough focus into his quirk to make sure that the decaying process is a nice and slow one this time. Upon seeing the state of their comrade, a few of the guards on the frontline actually have the fucking decency to hesitate.

And that’s all Shigaraki needs.

He forces his way through the guards, still using the decaying body in front of him as a makeshift shield—and once he makes his way through, he throws the remainder of limbs back into the crowd.

He doesn’t have to look back to know that the decay has started to spread, based on the screams of confusion behind him.

It’s rather obvious which one’s Hawks’ door after all that—the one with the troupe of buff, heavily armed guards in front of it, clearly. They charge at him almost immediately.

At this point, he’s barely able to move the fingers in his right hand. So he doesn’t have any time to waste.

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

Shigaraki hardly even remembers how he managed to kill them all. But he’s now lost all feeling in his right arm and is having difficulty finding enough stamina to even stand.

And, of course, the door is fucking locked.

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—

He’s not sure if it was even possible, but it sounds as though the sirens are getting louder, higher. He frantically jiggles the doorknob again, mind racing as he struggles to figure out what his next move should be. A part of him wants to use the last of his stamina to just decay the fucking door, but he knows that doing so would basically be suicide—yeah, sure: he’d get the fucking door open and just immediately pass out on the other side. It’d be an easy arrest and like hell Shigaraki would willingly give something like that over to the police.

But fuck. What else can he even do?

“Hurry! We lost contact with the main defense force, so the intruder must be with the prisoner!”

Shigaraki’s heart somehow finds it in itself to pound even harder against his ribcage. Shit, shit, it can’t just fucking end like this, what kind of fucking video game ends with the final boss getting arrested without a fucking fight—

And that’s when it hits him.

The Other Hawks. In his text message. There had been a code. It must have been for this door.

It’s his only shot.

Shigaraki desperately thrusts his hand into the pocket of his hoodie, almost dropping his cell phone as he rushes to unlock it and check his messages.

147962.

It works.

He’s in.

Shit. Fuck. Holy hell.

“Shigaraki…? Is that you…?”

“Hawks. Hawks, yeah. Shit, it’s me,” his voice is nothing more than a hoarse croak and it’s taking so much of his focus to not collapse onto the bed beside his comrade. Shigaraki starts frantically pulling the tubes out of Hawks as he continues, “Fuck. Fuck. We have to hurry, we’re going to fucking get you out of here—”

The door bursts open once more, a fresh troupe of security standing at the ready to fight.

Shigaraki can barely see straight.

Before the guards can even fire, Shigaraki tightens his single arm’s hold on Hawks before falling back against the glass window and letting gravity do its work.

[upontheshelfreviews]

Of all the animated Disney films out there, few have had a history as troubled or as fascinating as The Black Cauldron. Shaped less by the average process of transforming a novel to film and more by the decade, regime, mindset towards animation and internal struggle of power of the studio that made it, The Black Cauldron is considered the black sheep of the canon; those who worked on it have few fond memories of the experience, and the result of all that blood, sweat, tears, and voodoo curses hurled in Jeffrey Katzenberg’s direction is an odd creature Disney is content to let wallow in relative obscurity. To this day it’s looked down upon by all but a few loyal fans who’ve elevated it to semi-cult status. The story of how and why this is is worth a documentary of its own.

As for my thoughts on the film itself…well…

“It’s complicated.”

I honestly can’t talk about my feelings towards The Black Cauldron without putting it into some context first. And there’s a LOT of context that needs to be explained. Hence why I’ve decided to split this review into two parts. This first half will go over the history of the movie and behind the scenes shenanigans, while Part 2, which is the review I know you’ve been anticipating, will be released next week. So if you want to avoid an engaging history lesson that discusses the climate in which The Black Cauldron was created in depth and go right to the film itself, I suggest you return at a later date. Or go watch Waking Sleeping Beauty. It’s a fascinating, personal look into the struggle that shaped Disney’s Renaissance era and they devote a good chunk of the beginning into what went down during the making of The Black Cauldron.

By the 1980’s, Walt Disney had been dead for nearly twenty years and his enterprise as a whole was lacking a good leader to keep everything together. The live-action films were woefully behind the times, Walt Disney World’s recently-opened second park EPCOT wasn’t meeting attendance expectations, and while the animated films were holding up surprisingly well, the department had to deal with their budgets continually being slashed in order to make up for the failures of the previous two branches of the company.

Politics within the animation studio threatened to tear it apart as well. It was time for the stubborn old guard of Walt’s day, which included the revered animators known as the Nine Old Men, to pass on everything they knew to a ragtag band of fresh recruits with newfangled ideas about how Disney animation should be. Needless to say there was plenty of headbutting and saltiness from each end throughout the ordeal. One of the outcomes was that two no-name pipsqueaks decided to jump ship – Don Bluth, who committed high treason in his contemporaries’ eyes by forming his own animation studio (and giving Disney some admittedly much-needed competition to get their act together), and Tim Burton, who was dissatisfied with the direction The Black Cauldron was taking and felt his own inventive if bizarre contributions were going unappreciated. Bluth is still considered a persona non grata in Disney’s circle for his mutiny, but I can imagine their parting ways with Burton going something like this:

“Tell ya what, loser, if you manage to gross over a hundred million with those weird little films of yours, we’ll make that stop-motion singing skeleton picture you always wanted!”

Things came to a head after it was announced that Disney’s next animation project would be Lloyd Alexander’s popular high fantasy series The Chronicles of Prydain – or rather, taking the first two books of said series and combining them into one 80 minute film.

“It worked for Ralph Bakshi!”

“No it didn’t.”

“Come on, what kind of cockamamie studio would we be running if we devoted an entire movie to each entry in some crummy little fairy tale saga? Or hell, splitting one book into two movies to cram everything in! How do you expect to make bank on that? We’re not made of money, you know!”

“Sir, the contractors are here to go over the building of your swimming pool to contain all your other swimming pools.”

“Thank you, Ramsley. Tell them they’ll receive their deposit once we get the box office returns on Herbie Goes Bananas.”

“Of course, sir.”

Now the 80’s were a golden age for cult fantasy flicks. You couldn’t swing a dead elf around without hitting a Labyrinth or a Princess Bride or a Last Unicorn or a kajillion overlooked Baron Munchausens. Disney tried their hand at this genre with fare such as Return to Oz and Something Wicked This Way Comes and I think they’re good films. Like, really, REALLY good films. But unfortunately they share something in common with the previously mentioned fantasy movies, and that is they were major flops upon release. Yet the animators’ toiled away under the sincere hope that The Black Cauldron would be the one to break that losing streak. They were going to do something unique, something that no other animation studio – least of all classic Disney – had ever done before…

…or they might have if the old guard hadn’t kept stepping in to curb their creativity.

I understand where the former generation was coming from; I’d be pretty grouchy too if I had to train these too-big-for-their-britches whippersnappers who were going to replace me, but one of the reasons why the Disney company was this close to declaring bankruptcy in the decades after Walt’s passing was because it was adhering dangerously close to the mentality of “What would Walt do” instead of trying new things and evolving with the times. The very idea of “What would Walt do” is a paradox; none of us – not me, not the most religious of Disney fans, not even the workers who knew him the longest – could ever really know what his course of action on creative decisions might be, and yet the one thing we do know for certain is that Walt Disney always chose to move forward instead of clinging to the formulas or modes of thinking that were deemed the most successful. His whole body of work reflects that. Walt was one of the first studio heads to embrace television as another method of entertainment instead of fearing its growing popularity over theatrical venues. He not only revolutionized the theme park business but he kept building upon what was already there to enhance the experience and bridge the gap between man and machine, rather than just letting Disneyland sit in the middle of Anaheim and churn out money while it gathered dust. And as for features, well, after he was pressured into making sequels to the successful Three Little Pigs which proved to be less popular than the first, he infamously said “You can’t top pigs with pigs!”. Walt hated repeating himself in order to triumph, and he took every opportunity to push the envelope when it came to the story or technical aspects of anything he touched. He dove head first into the new, and if he made a mistake along the way, he learned from it instead of retreating back into the safe zone. Sadly, in a misguided attempt to keep Walt’s legacy alive, the old regime forgot about that and micromanaged every aspect of the company until it became a time capsule instead of a thriving creative business.

Look no further than the artwork made during the concept stage of the film’s production if you need an example. Here’s some of what the new crowd came up with:

Pretty neat, huh? Now here’s what Milt Kahl and some of Walt’s homeboys pressed on to them.

Compare these sketches to something from Sleeping Beauty, The Sword in the Stone or any silver-era Disney film. It’s too close to the house style from back then. You’d think it was rejected concept art from one of those films. Poor Tim Burton got the worst of it. He shared some awesome ideas for the Horned King’s henchmen, his gwythaints (aka dragon things), and just about anything having to do with the guy not excluding his own living space. The animators adored them, but management, in a move that would be the last straw for Burton, told him they wouldn’t spare the time or expenses needed to revamp the look for the film.

“Redo a bunch of doodles so it’ll look like a bunch of DIFFERENT doodles?! We’re stretched for cash as it is!”

“Sir, your 30-foot diamond sculpture of yourself has arrived. Where shall I have the men place it?”

“Eh, stick it in the ballroom with all the other diamond sculptures, I’m busy!”

“Very good, sir.”

To further quash morale, the animation department was unceremoniously booted out of the original building it was housed in from back when Walt Disney built the studio. They now worked in what was basically a cramped little trailer park across the street.

Tensions were high all around.

Animation, once the lifeblood of the Disney company, was now on life support.

Certain higher-ups were even questioning if they should pull the plug and turn their focus to the parks and live-action films.

“Hmm, they did make those wacky duck cartoons I liked when I was five…then again, I’ve been wanting my own private archipelago for some time now. Oh, nobody has it harder than I do!”

“Sir, just a reminder, you have a meeting with Misters Eisner, Katzenberg and Wells at four.”

“Who?”

“Your new bosses? The former heads at Paramount Pictures? The men who greenlit hit after hit for film and television including Happy Days, Laverne and Shirley, Raiders of the Lost Ark and the Star Trek motion pictures?”

“…Doesn’t ring a bell.”

Indeed, a solution of sorts came in the form of a sweeping management makeover. Out went Ron Miller, in came Michael Eisner and Frank Wells. Together they were something unprecedented – they ran the company in a manner parallel to Walt and his brother Roy, and it WORKED. See, Walt was the idea man as well as the amicable people person; he was able to generate ideas and see them through thanks to his power of persuasion and ability to inspire others. Roy was the sensible subdued banker who calculated what could and could not be feasibly done and brought Walt’s dreams into reality. Through their lifelong partnership and ability to compromise commerce with art, they founded one of the biggest entertainment enterprises on the planet.

I’ve noticed any time where Disney’s CEO is just one person, they’re rarely able to handle that balance of creativity and finance without leaning heavily towards one aspect – which nine times out of ten is always the financial one. When it’s a partnership like these two pairs, however, the company has flourished. Wells was approachable, knew how to appeal to his employees, a good risk taker and vicariously enjoyed the process of bringing a project to fruition. Eisner was known for having some pretty stupid ideas – ideas he’d carry with him once he was given full command – but his business savvy brought the company out of the red and into a new golden age. Working together they shaped Disney into the company we know it as today. Wells was Walt, and Eisner was Roy; the only difference between them being it was Eisner who was the charming face of the company thanks to his many appearances on TV via holiday specials and the Wonderful World of Disney.

“…which is why it came as such a FUCKING HUGE STAB IN THE BACK when he cut corners in the parks, started the direct-to-video sequel line, and divorced Disney from traditional animation, the greedy bastard!! SHELF SMAAAASH!!!”

Also along for the ride at Eisner’s behest was Jeffrey Katzenberg, who was tasked with overseeing the animation studio. Eisner recognized from his years in television that there was money to be made in marketing nostalgia, and what gets people more nostalgic than Disney animation? This decision proved to be both a blessing and a curse. Sure, Jeffrey was one of the pillars in revitalizing Disney’s animated films, but his adjustment from working with the live-action medium to pencils and paper was rocky at best. He quickly developed a reputation among the staff for being passionate about his work but highly volatile. No one knew what could piss him off one day or make him laugh the next. The one certainty was that Katzenberg was a man with a mission. He wanted to bring Disney animation back to its glory days. To the days when the name Disney meant something. In his own words, to wake Sleeping Beauty.

Joel Hale, producer on The Black Cauldron, scoffed at this. He already didn’t approve of the new animators acting like privileged children and he certainly wasn’t fond of these Hollywood big shots coming in and shaking up the status quo. “Who do they think they are? Sleeping Beauty’s already awake,” he replied.

He was fired almost immediately after.

And so, down one producer, up several more, nearly seven years after production began and several million dollars over budget, The Black Cauldron finally entered the most anticipated and dreaded stage of the Hollywood assembly line, the test screening. When it got to the part with the cauldron born, animator Mike Peraza counted down to the second the moment he knew the screaming in the audience would commence. And he was right on time. According to well-documented testimonies, the children there not only screamed and cried but fled the theater. As for Katzenberg’s reaction to The Black Cauldron as a whole, it wasn’t a far cry from what was happening on screen.

Indeed, the animators succeeded in creating something Disney had never done before – and Katzenberg HATED it. It was too violent, too frightening, and too distant from all things associated with the Disney name. Granted, I can see why he would feel that way; Disney has gone dark before (The Headless Horseman, Fantasia’s Night On Bald Mountain, the entire second half of Pinocchio, you get the idea), but at this rate The Black Cauldron was coming very close to earning Disney its first R rating. Not mincing words here. The film we have today is the freaking Care Bears Movie compared to the original cut that was screened. There were some pretty gory deaths in the action scenes, the Horned King’s own demise was somehow even worse than the one we’re familiar with, and most notably the cauldron born sequence not only had them kill some unnamed henchmen onscreen but explicitly showed one dissolve alive in the mist. To this day, individual cels of that scene circulate the internet as proof of its existence, and I can only imagine the awe and terror of seeing it play out as it was meant to.

Desperate to salvage whatever he could with as minimal mental scarring as possible, Katzenberg demanded the directors cut fifteen minutes from the film. Not any specific fifteen minutes, mind you, just fifteen minutes. It went down almost exactly like the scene from Amadeus where Emperor Joseph praises Mozart’s opera but asks if he could cut a few notes because he thinks there’s too many. He thankfully backs down when Mozart pointedly asks him which notes he wants him to cut. Unfortunately, trimming a couple of seconds here and there wasn’t enough to mollify Katzenberg, and he took it upon himself to fix his own perceived problem.

Pictured: Katzenburg preparing for an editing session.

Katzenberg shocked all present when he said that this film needed to be edited. They protested that there’s no way you can edit an animated movie, to which Katzenberg replied “Of course you can!” In a way, he was correct. All films, including animated ones, can and should be edited to some degree; either to give a moment some breathing space or get to the point of a scene. The problem is, Katzenberg was NOT an experienced editor in his own right.

Imagine you’re given a fine steak to eat and someone offers to cut it for you. They trim off the fatty bits first, then carve it into equal portions. Seems good, right? But then they start to cut away parts they think may have too much gristle, or look burnt or undercooked, or has one peppercorn too many sprinkled on – parts that you might actually enjoy and would make the experience of enjoying this meal more complete – and you’re forced to watch as they turn a culinary treat into a dinner with an unfortunate amount of its flavor and meat stolen from you. Once you recognize where Katzenberg made those haphazard cuts and alterations, you see the film in a new light, like that steak. You’re left wondering what could have been, how a pretty decent movie could have become a potentially great one.

And how is it that I am privy to such arcane truths?

Because, hand to God, my boyfriend managed to procure a shooting script of The Black Cauldron that was produced before Katzenberg did his hack job.

What, you don’t believe me? Then tremble before me and despair, you heretics!

“BRING. IT. ON.”

• TO BE CONTINUED •

Artwork by Charles Moss.

Milt Kahl and Andreas Deja production sketches courtesy of Andreas Deja’s blog Deja View, which I can’t recommend enough.

October Review: The Black Cauldron (1985) PART 1 Of all the animated Disney films out there, few have had a history as troubled or as fascinating as The Black Cauldron.

[spectrumscribe]

Do Kaiju even like apples?

a Pacific Rim and TMNT 2014/16 fusion, introducing budding science sister and her tiny monster brothers. (who won’t be tiny for long.)

@rhi-draws-things​ provided the illustrations, bless them.

trying a new method of posting stories to tumblr, i think i’ll just add each new installment to this post under the cut of a reblog. have ‘em all together for your reading leisure. enjoy this first one!

April is pretty sure she should have stuck it out at school, and just slept in the nurse’s office.

At least then she would have had an actual bed, rather than be stuck in a hard plastic chair and drowsing while the base’s occupants ran around like kicked ants. Apparently something of the top secret project April knew next to nothing about (hence the ‘top secret’ part of things) had escaped, and everyone had gone zero to sixty in an instant the moment sirens went off.

April had found herself shoved into the nearest staff room, told to lock the door, and not to move until someone came and got her. She’d been expecting that her dad would just look over some documents too important to put off, and then they’d go home so she could sleep off her fever.

No such luck. The sirens outside of her meagrely furnished staff room are still droning, and April is falling asleep despite the awful chair. At least someone lent her a coat at some point, and she’s only shivering a little in the oversized thing.

Her unfinished lunch remains in its baggy near her face, as she leans forward with her cheek pressed to the table. She’d tried to convince herself again to eat, since getting better requires energy, but hasn’t had much luck. It drifts in and out of focus as her eyes get heavier, and giving in, April just lets the fever drag her under into a light nap.

The sirens aren’t enough to keep her awake, or even make her panic longer than the first minute they’d been going.  She knows they’re not for a Kaiju attack, and even if they were, she’s inside a military base. There are no active Jaegers here, but there’s some just up the coastline of New York. She’s safe as she could get, outside of a Kaiju shelter.

And, she’s sick. Being sick makes it easier to just not care.

April naps for a period of time she doesn’t remember, and doesn’t rouse again even after the alarms are turned off. She doesn’t notice they have been, and doesn’t know it’s simply because everyone got sick of listening to them while hunting for the escaped subject.

April doesn’t hear the door’s lock be broken from the inside, and doesn’t hear it open and shut with a quiet noise. What she does hear, oddly enough, is the sound of someone messing with her uneaten sandwich.

April blearily opens her eyes, too hot and too cold at the same time, and really annoyed with whatever’s woken her back up to that.

Three claws are sunk into the tip of her sandwich’s baggy, and four wide eyes stare back at her, just over the lip of the table.

The four gold eyes blink at her. April blinks her two blue ones a few times to confirm its real.

She screams.

The owner of the four eyes screams back, and runs away.

April nearly falls out of her chair, scrambling away from the table and the thing with all the coordination possible of a sick individual. She runs into another crappy chair and does fall over, yelping as she goes down.

There’s a dizzying moment, worsened by her illness, in which everything spins in terrible circles. April finally recovers enough to gingerly sit back up; half convinced she’s just had a hallucination.

But, no. That’s definitely a pintsized Kaiju scrabbling around on the linoleum across the room from her.

“Oh my god,” April whispers in horror, and then jumps with a shriek as the creature hisses balefully at her.

She untangles her legs from the chair’s, and manages to get to her feet and press against the wall of the room. April is hyperventilating a little, watching the tiny Kaiju pace and snarl on the other end of their shared space.

It’s between her and the coatracks, where she hung her backpack earlier. Her backpack contains her cellphone, which is what she needs, right this instant, so she can call her dad and the army and if they have one an indoor Jaeger because oh my fucking god, that’s a Kaiju.

A really.

Really.

Small Kaiju.

It’s about the size of an overly large housecat, with a long, strong looking tail whipping around behind it as it paces. Purple spots of bioluminescence follow the length of its body, which cause a bit of nausea to look at when it keeps moving so quickly, and April is still very sick feeling.

The segmented plates on its back almost look like a shell, April thinks distantly. Like a turtle and a dragon and a cattish thing all got mixed together.

It stands up on two legs then, walking perfectly fine like that. April amends and changes the cattish part to lemurish, maybe even humanish. It’s the tail that’s really the tipping point, making the walk ever so slightly abnormal in its gait.

April is very, very dizzy. Oof. Everything is spinning even while she’s still leaning against the wall. Couldn’t the tiny Kaiju have chosen to terrorize her on a day when she wasn’t ill? Is that too much to ask from fate, given that the war was supposed to be over?

“…I guess you’re the one everyone’s looking for,” April says faintly, mostly to herself. The little Kaiju shrieks and hops away to press against the far wall, pacing and tittering nervously. And it is nervous, April is realizing. If she hadn’t known better, she’d almost think the little thing is as scared as she feels at the moment.

But Kaiju are city destroying titans, not afraid even when a Jaeger is thundering towards them. It wouldn’t make sense for even a tiny one to be afraid of a sick teenage girl.

Oh, but this one really is awfully small. April could probably hold it with one arm if she tried.

April reminds herself to focus. Thoughts like that are for after she’s certain she isn’t going to get mauled.

The little Kaiju is eyeing her, but also- as April notices the break of focus every couple seconds- the table April had been sleeping at.

April looks at the sandwich on the table.

She formulates a plan.

Taking a careful step forwards, April starts to move towards the table. She’s nearly startled backwards all over again when the Kaiju makes a leap towards her, only for it to back off immediately. It’s hissing and spitting, but really, it’s just making a show instead of real threats.

The coatrack is directly above where the Kaiju is pacing. April slowly picks up her sandwich.

“Hey, little… guy,” April settles on the addressment, since it’s better than spawn of world destroyers or the like. “Do you want some food?”

The Kaiju watches her warily, but has stopped shrieking every time she moves. It’s clearly torn between following her and the sandwich at the same time; intent gold eyes boring holes into both.

April opens the bag slowly, and takes out half the sandwich.

“Here… look, its fake bologna and lettuce. Mmm, right? Really tasty, I promise. Fake processed meat is about the same as actual processed meat in nutrients anyway.”

The Kaiju inches forwards in half steps, eyes darting between her face and the treat. April takes a chance and tosses the triangle of food onto the floor in front of it.

The food is snapped up immediately, and in an act of definitely inhuman physiology, the sandwich piece disappears into the Kaiju’s mouth. April sees the hinges of its jawline open wider than a human’s would, or even most animals. She gulps quietly at the rows of sharp teeth it has, which flash as it chews noisily.

It’s looking at her now less with fear, more with curiosity. And it’s moving away from the coatrack. Good. April takes out the other half of the sandwich, and figures she can blame her illness for making her think this next step is a good plan.

“You gotta come and take this one from me, dude,” she tells it softly, holding out the sandwich halve and bending down a little. “C’mon… I’m probably not the one who’s gonna bite anyone here…”

Faster than she thought, the Kaiju approaches her. It moves in cautious steps, but is steadily losing the edge of wariness. By the time it tentatively puts a claw on the bread, its eyes are all on the sandwich, and April can step around it without even a hiss in response.

She makes a hasty beeline for her backpack, digging out her phone frantically and thumbing open the screen. She gets open her text messages, and then slowly comes to a stop, fingers hovering.

Soft and chirrupy noises have taken the place of shrieks and hissing, and April glances behind her.

The little Kaiju is sitting with its legs in a clumsy fold, resembling lotus flower position, and is talking adamantly to itself as it dissects the second sandwich halve. Rather than scarf it down, it’s taking the time to examine and… narrate the pieces of the sandwich.

And, in a way, the sounds aren’t just sounds, but are closer to actual words.

April is truly her father’s daughter, because she immediately thinks amazing, and is there more to discover here?

April looks back into the open mouth of her backpack, seeing her baggy of apple slices inside.

Retrieving them, April creeps back towards the Kaijuling. Baby Kaiju? There have only ever been full grown monstrosities publically documented, nothing about early stages of their growth cycles. There’s no word for this creature yet, and even then. April suspects there’s been meddling with its DNA, since there’s no way anything could evolve to have such a drastic growth period between infant and adult.

Except it’s an alien, so. Earth rules might not apply.

April slowly comes to kneel a cautious distance from the little creature. She opens the baggy, and steels herself from startling as its four eyes whip around to stare at her.

Do Kaiju even like apples?

One way to find out.

April wordlessly holds out a slice of apple. It’s been kept fresh by lemon she’d squeezed onto it yesterday, when she didn’t have a damn fever.

“Want one?” she asks. There’s a pause, and then the Kaiju makes a sound of joyful interest.

Without further prompt or hesitation, it slips over to her on all fours, and sits back up to wrap a small clawed hand around the slice. April watches, fascinated and rapidly losing her own fears, as it nibbles at the snack food.

When the first slice is gone, and the little Kaiju is licking its approximation of lips with its pointed tongue, it holds out its hands and makes grabbing gestures and coos impatiently.

“Say please,” April says automatically, and realizes it’s because the behaviors remind her strikingly of a small child.

It stares at her, looking annoyed. April is stunned quietly that it can express annoyance, and not just want or fear something.

“Say please?” she requests again, experimentally.

“Sss… say p’ease?”

April’s mouth falls open, a taking a sharp breath in.

“Say p’ease?” the Kaiju repeats, high voiced and unpracticed. Mimicking her, but not perfectly, missing the harder to pronounce part of a new word, like a child would.

Like a child would.

April hands over the next apple slice, and manages to mumble, “Yeah, that’s right. Say please. Good job.”

“Good job,” repeats back the Kaiju, nearly chirping it, and bites the new slice in half happily. April is still processing her shock as it shifts closer to her, pressing against her leg with its little ones and making grabby gestures again.

“Say p’ease,” it says with confidence, tail flicking against the floor in anticipation.

“…you’re very smart, aren’t you?” April says to it.

The little Kaiju coos and only has eyes for the apple slices. April hands another one over as requested. This time is a little different, though, as it catches her hand with its own free one. She holds perfectly still as it multitasks nibbling the fruit, and examining her pale pink palms and darker skin everywhere else.

April is not particularly afraid, she finds, watching the creature pick at her short finger nails with its wicked little claws.

“Say p’ease, good job,” it pronounces, apparently done with the examination. It grabs for the bag in April’s right hand, and April holds it away on instinct.

“No,” she tells it. It starts to sit up, reaching for it. “No,” April repeats, more firmly. “You ask nicely if you want more. Say please.”

The Kaiju’s face screws up in a pout, its big eyes squinting in annoyance. Its tail lashes for a moment, and then it says in a distinctly put upon voice, “Say p’ease?”

Purely and clearly, that’s the voice of a fed up toddler not getting what they want, and going along because it’s the only way to get it.

April finds herself fighting a smile, and laughing a little. He looks so cute, so frustrated like that.

“Okay, you can have another, now,” she informs him, and gives another piece of apple to the Kaiju. He takes it, but manages to look sulky about it.

April’s knees are starting to cramp like this, and she shifts into a lotus position like her Kaiju friend. She moves away from him to do so, trying to avoid disturbing him with her careful movements, but is surprised when he moves right back next to her once she’s settled.

And then climbs into her lap, fearless and curious about the jacket she’s got on, and the chance to get more apples sooner. April is a little uncomfortable having a mouthful of sharp incisors and hands tipped in claws so close to her vitals, but that’s tempered by the excited tittering the Kaiju makes, picking at the undone zipper of her jacket.

He’s so curious about everything, now that he’s not scared out of his mind. It’s almost like the time April held a large parrot, when a conservationist moved into the apartment next to her and her dad- the huge bird had been noisy and curious, and just enough of a discomfort near her face it’d been a thrill to hold him.

It’s like that, right now, combined with the time she held a baby of a colleague her dad has. Exciting and a little scary, and part of her is worried she’ll upset things if she moves wrong.

April stifles a sound of pain as the Kaiju discovers her coils and tugs on a fistful. She teaches him again about the word no.

It’s only after he’s settled comfortably into her lap, chewing on the last of slices of apple, that April remembers she should probably call someone about this.

It’s made a little harder than usual to text, since somebody has decided the thing he wants most in the world is now her phone.

She’s still trying to explain that no, he can’t have it, and that tapping it rapidly with his claws is just going to scratch the screen- “Pads, you use the pads of your fingers,”- when the door is all but kicked off its hinges behind them.

“There it is!” someone bellows, and April’s little Kaiju friend loses his cool.

The winding tail wrapped loosely around her arm is switched to her stomach, and April is treated to the feeling of being strangled around the midriff and claw tips nearly puncturing her jacket’s fabric.

“Ow, no, hey,” she says, as she gets unsteadily off the ground and backs hastily away from the door. She pats uselessly at the hard ridges of his back. “Dude, hey, I need to- breathe and stuff- ow-”

“Ms. O’Neil, stop moving!” commands the soldier, and oh joy, he’s got a gun. April thinks it’s a tranq gun, and neither it nor he and the other soldiers pouring in are doing anything to calm things down.

“April!” yells her dad, fighting his way through the clog of bodies in the doorway. His eyes are wide with fear as he catches sight of the Kaiju wrapped around his daughter, and looks about ready to throw up.

The little Kaiju shrieks, lighting up hostile purple again and baring its fangs at the intruders. Immediately the sound of safety catches clicking off are heard, and April throws up a hand. “Guys, stop it! You’re scaring him-!”

A particularly brash soldier strides forwards, arm outstretched and aiming to rip the Kaiju off April forcefully, and the tail around April’s waist comes away in a whip quick slash.

The soldier cries out as a bright red seam of blood appears across his face, and April stares in shock at the long barb abruptly produced from the end of the tail.

“NO!”  screams the little Kaiju, slashing its long thin barb in the air in front of them. “NO, NO, NO!”

April hysterically thinks she taught him the word no a little too well.

“Hey- WHOA, okay, everyone just-” April takes a number of steps back from the panicking soldiers and her father, trying to keep people out of stabbing range of the tail barb. “-take a deep breath, okay? I’m fine, it’s cool, just stop freaking him out already.”

There’s a murmur of dissent, soldiers shifting uneasily as they try to find an angle to come at them from, and April hears a quiet hiccup beside her neck.

“No, no, no,” repeats her little friend, words shifting into desperate little growls and keens. He’s pressing close as possible to her, strong little limbs clinging tightly, and he’s trembling as he does.

His tail slashing in the air and bared teeth and brightly lit threat display all say animal, dangerous, monster… but the sobs underneath all that say scared little kid.

She raises her hand to run it down his shell-like back plates, turning her own back to everyone and shielding him. “It’s fine, it’s okay, shhh, calm down, buddy. We’re okay. We’re okay. No knifing anybody with your- tail. Thing. Okay? Just… gotta calm down. Just… shh, kiddo… it’s gonna be alright… you’ll be okay, I got you. You’re safe.”

April feels his tail stop slashing around, and slowly, carefully, come back to curl around her middle. She only feels a brief moment of fear she’ll get stabbed by the thin barb, but no pain comes as the tip curls around to her front.

There’s quiet, rapid conversation behind her, and April casts a glance over her shoulder as a harsher whisper-shout makes her friend stiffen in fear.

“Hey!” she snaps at everyone gathered. “Shut up and go away!” The stunned silence following that is satisfying on a level.

Not the politest thing she’s ever said, but she’s sick and exhausted by the emotional roller coaster and there’s a kid in her arms crying still. Not okay by any account.

Oh god the military made tiny Kaijus that are actually tiny babies and April is literally just some teenager. What the hell is she supposed to do about all this? The minute she lets go of him he’ll probably end up back in a lab- a lab her dad works in, does he know that this kid is a literal kid-?

A hundred terrible scenarios flash across her mind about what might be done to her little friend, and April feels even sicker than she was already.

“…April? Are you alright?”

She looks over her shoulder again, at her carefully approaching father. His dark forehead has sweat sheen to it, and he’s darting glances between her and the Kaiju growling at him.

April shushes him again, and he quiets for the most part. He stills tightens his tail around her, though. Determined to stay, determined to defend.

Oh, but he’s so small, and clearly so young, and god, what even happened to create a creature like this? To create a person like this? A scaly little person with a tail and fangs and bioluminescence, who is terrified out of his mind and only trusts April.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” April finally responds, holding her friend in a gentle hug and wondering if she’s the first person to have ever done so.

“Did it… hurt you anywhere? Can you get it to-”

“He’s not an it,” April says firmly, feeling abruptly and fiercely protective. “He’s a little kid, dad. What the hell?”

What the hell does the military want with him? What the hell can I do to prove he’s a person? What the hell did you do, dad?

“Did you know he can talk?” April asks, angry and sad. “Did you know he learn words after only a few tries? Did you know anything like that about him?”

Her father is quiet for a moment, and then says, “No… no I didn’t. They weren’t supposed to be able to do those things.”

“…well he can,” April says, and hugs her little friend tighter. He makes a soft sound of confusion, and presses his cold flat nose to her neck, huffing in concern.

She takes a deep breath, and looks back again. “How many more?” she asks, uncaring that there’s still a few soldiers lingering in the doorway and clearly not on board with what’s happening.

“…three more,” her dad answers, a look of dread entering his expression. “We made four of them. They were only supposed to be subjects for observation and study. Kaiju on a smaller scale, with the ability to respond to communications and possibly even communicate back. But… it wasn’t supposed to be more than that.”

“What did you do to make him small and smart?” April asks, already knowing the answer.

“…we mixed human DNA into the sequence. It was a choice from above my station, hon, I swear. We didn’t know.”

April sighs, and wonders if any adults even try to remember the stuff science fiction and fantasy taught you about playing god with life.

“I think you did a lot more than make pocket-sized Kaiju, dad,” April says, petting her friend’s plated back as he makes a rumbly little purr against her shoulder.

Her dad lets out a ragged breath. “I’m starting to think that, too.”

April gets to keep holding her little friend- someone who turns out to be Donatello, according to the codename she drew out of a hat two months ago, back in her home apartment with her dad. He’d told her it’s for an upcoming project, and she’d thought the game of pulling famous artists out of a hat was just that. A game.

She named them all, all four of them, however indirectly and unknowingly. They’re only a handful of weeks old now- and already so big and smart, compared to human children- but they’re still so… young. Vulnerable.

April cradles Donatello until he falls asleep, nestled against her and playing with her shoulder length coils. Her father sends the soldiers out of the room, and someone important looking shows up in a uniform with a lot of medals and stripes on it.

April clutches Donatello close, who refuses to relinquish his own desperate clutch, and tries to talk a woman nearly three times her age around to April’s point of view.

It doesn’t work how she wants it to, but there’s room for future debate. More discussions and tests to be conducted, and a chance.

April is going to seize that chance and sink her teeth into it and refuse to let go, much like how Donatello does when he gets the idea to starting biting her hair.

She coaxes him off that idea by heckling her dad into handing over one of the hard candies he’s always got in his pockets. It goes over well, and from the intent expression of her father, and his fellow scientists peering in through the doorway, this is Donatello’s first experience with sugary sweets.

He likes it. A lot. Crunching it between his incisors and asking for more afterwards, using his most polite so far, “Say p’ease?”

April’s dad and his boss nearly fall out of their chairs at that. One of the scientists in the doorway clutches his chest and just about faints. It’s a brief spell of relief from the seriousness of things, and April makes sure Donatello gets the candy he so politely asked for.

Donatello is a little heavy by the time they lead her back to his containment cell, which is a room a little smaller than a child’s would be. And it’s bare of anything but a pet bed and some blankets shoved into a corner.

April feels so, so very bad for peeling her sleeping friend off herself, and gently lowering him to rest in the bed. She covers him up with the blankets, and sees him curl into a little ball underneath.

April is stuck for a moment, just watching the blankets rise and fall with his breathing. She doesn’t know what his future from this point will be like, and that scares the daylights out of her.

It only took about two hours for her to get this attached. God knows what she’ll feel like in another week, or less.

It’s hard to get up and walk out, but the rules are that the tests get done before anything is concrete, and that includes April staying away to not contaminate the procedure.

April is tired, still feverish, and now she’s angrily sad on top of all that. She puts one foot in front of the other, and forces herself to make it home before lying down and passing out from sheer exhaustion.

April has uneasy dreams that night, blurry and unhappy, and continues to until she sees Donatello again, and knows he’s going to be okay. That they all will be, him and his incredible siblings.

The next time she picks up Donatello, April is certain she’d never put him down if she could. Him, or any of the other little Kaiju children. Small, and strange, and so in need of somebody to love them.

Of course, within a few years, she can’t even hope to carry around any of them. By that point, they can lift her, and do so just to show off.

But she doesn’t forget the first time few times, how it felt to have Donnie’s tail coil around her midriff and curl tightly there. How it felt to have Raph’s puppyishly big hands hold onto hers as they walked through the hall. How it felt when Leo would cling to her legs and refuse to let go. How it felt to have Mikey clamber up her back and demand piggyback rides as long as he could get them.

When they’re older, they tend more to pick up April and carry her around. It’s easy, since they double in size within the first two years, and then keep going until they tower over everybody on base.

April never does forget, though. And never wants to.

Commission info & Kofi link.

[terrible-tentacle-theatre]

The Bestiary Revamped: Wyville’s Crownjelly

Disclaimer: While this article is founded in scientific fact, it contains hyberbole and conscious exaggerations for the sake of comedy. Do not take my ramblings at face value. You can find the sources at the end of the article and tools for scientific fact-checking under the “Learn more” link on my blog.

The old article can be read here.

At long last, today we finally return under the waves, and while we’re at it, why not go full fucking overboard? Here at the Terrible Tentacle Theatre, we pride ourselves on not having any idea what “moderation” means. If we return to the sea, there is only one place to go: down. Way, way down.

Say hello to the bathypelagic zone, the expanse of watery void stretching from 1000 to 4000 meters. Our passengers might want to look out their windows and observe the breathtaking scenery below:

Oh no, you’ve got it all wrong. That’s not your internet being shit again. That’s genuinely how it looks, in real life, when you descend to a depth of 3000 or so meters. Nature documentaries like to put more bioluminescent flecks of organic matter in it than a love-starved grandma does lights on the Christmas tree when her grandkids are visiting. However, in reality, making a 24/7 lightshow out of yourself is a preeeeetty bad idea, since it attracts the immediate attention of pretty much everything with huge fucking teeth in the vicinity. Hint: you’ll get eaten, pretty fast. In fact, this is the actual reason why anglerfishes do their little thing with the glowing lures, because anything and everything bigger than said lures will be attracted to it, allowing the anglerfish to basically pull a “gotcha” and eat them in turn.

My point being, if you see something shiny in the deep sea, do not go to investigate. Whatever is shining that light wants you to go there.

And that is also the prime tactic of today’s specimen, which takes the incredible freedom that comes with living in a realm of eternal darkness and emptiness and uses it to fulfill it’s lifelong dream of being a goddamn Pokemon master. Come with me on today’s adventure and you’ll soon see what I mean by that.

I often joke around about how some particularly strange species we review here look like aliens. However, if aliens did decide to visit Earth, Wyville’s crownjelly (Atolla wyvillei), also known as the atolla jellyfish or coronate medusa, wouldn’t be one of the aliens. It would be the fucking spaceship.

I mean, look at this damn thing. I can’t tell where it begins or ends, but I sure can tell where the fucking cockpit is. That is not how a jellyfish should operate; they should be controlled by a decentralized nervous system, not little green men from Planet Piss Off out to steal our hotdogs and happy thoughts because their planet doesn’t have any.

Of course, the scare factor of a glowing organic UFO mothership straight out of Roswelltunguska, Arizona swimming around in our oceans is somewhat mitigated by the fact that it’s tiny as shit. Standing at a diameter of about 15 centimeters (~6 inches), it’s either not a serious harm to humankind at large or the mothership of the smallest aliens ever. I’m inclined to believe the latter.

*squeaky helium voice* BOW DOWN TO ME PUNY EARTHLINGS

AND STOP LAUGHING DAMMIT

Of course, there is a very good reason for the crownjelly being as small as it is. In the deep sea, you can’t throw a brick without hitting absolute darkness and empty water. You take two steps to the left and BAM- you’ve just ran headfirst into fucking nothing at all. The bathypelagic zone where this thing hangs out on the regular is a really food-scarce place is what I’m getting at. And big bodies being as expensive to upkeep as they are, most deep-sea creatures are actually much smaller than nature documentaries would have you believe.

Another aspect of the deep ocean besides being empty also being darker than a Morlock’s asshole inside a cave. Therefore, any light sticks out like a sore thumb, drawing attention like Kim Kardashian did with that one photoshoot of hers. (Doesn’t matter which one, actually. All of them drew attention.) Wyville’s crownjelly exploits this to show us that these particular aliens aren’t interested in meeting our leader, only in playing Pokemon Go.

The whole entire process of capturing a shiny begins with the jellyfish carelessly frolicking across the deep sea, like all of them youngster with their fancy phones and smartwatches. For some inscrutable reason, this movement is accompanied by a steady red pulsing on the underside of its bell. For what reason, I cannot determine seeing as most creatures at that depth are completely fucking blind to the color red. The one species that can actually see red is one that you really don’t want to attract the attention of. In fact, messing with this guy is such a bad idea that its existence was literally what prompted me to start writing this blog in the first place and it served as the subject of my first Bestiary article.

Wyville’s crownjelly swimming, also known as Local Suicidal Idiot Takes a Walk. I mean seriously, you can’t even say that it doesn’t live in the same place as the loosejaw because both species are cosmopolitan. The only saving throw for the crownjelly is that it lives an average 2000 meters deeper than the loosejaw, otherwise this blaring red light would be the evolutionary equivalent of putting a big flashing “KICK ME” sign around your neck.

The first method of capturing sea creatures to train them and become the very best (like no one ever was) is the series of tendrils hanging from its bell, which the jellyfish uses to filter out and capture small prey animals that have the supreme bad luck to be in its vicinity. The alien abduction parallels are uncanny.

However, a second and much more impressive weapon in its arsenal is the long, trailing tentacle that is clearly visible on the above gif. This is coated in enough adhesive to make a hagfish gag, and the crownjelly uses it to its full extent to sate its rumbling belly. Streaming in the water like the latest shit-tier waifu harem show on Crunchyroll, it becomes an effective hunting tool for the benefit of the jellyfish. Anything snared by this appendage will be subjected to similar treatment that one might expect the villains in a Conan the Barbarian movie to do, being dragged after Wyville’s ruthless motherfucking crownjelly, sometimes for minutes, before it does an acrobatic little pirouette and swallows its helpless, snagged prey. Lovely feeding tactic.

Pictured: Wyville’s crownjelly on the hunt. Sadly it can’t really go “YEEHAW” under the water. Even if it had a voicebox all it would be good for would be gurgling.

However, that is not the most unusual feature about this cruel little cnidarian. There is yet one more trick that this deep-sea flying saucer holds, a trick which catapults it from “moderately interesting predator” right into “Kanto Elite Four” position. And that thing is its lights.

See, vicious as it is towards smaller animals, the crownjelly is actually a dirty, dishonorable coward, being equally afraid of bigger predators. Apparently this tiny creature composed of somewhere around 97% water counts as a delicious treat for some reason, seeing as even large active predators such as deepwater sharks munch on it regularly. (Then again, it is also possible that they’re simply too hungry to care about their record as gourmets with refined taste. This is the desolation that is the abyssal zone, afterall.)

Running from a sufficiently large and starved predator in the middle of a flat-empty expanse of water is, of course, hopeless, especially if you’re small as shit and your method of locomotion is the jellyfish equivalent of flapping your arms really fast to try to fly. Clearly, a different tactic must be employed here since this one is a one-way ticket to the town of Stomach, United States of Shark. And employ a different tactic it does.

Oh, boy, does it ever.

I have previously mentioned that the crownjelly is bioluminescent, and employs this attribute for some nefarous purpose. Of course, this is not the red pulsing I already mentioned, this is a whole ‘nother can of worms entirely. This is one of the most ingenious methods of defense I’ve ever seen.

If some foolish predator gives the atolla chase and inevitably catches it, the jellyfish activates its second, blue set of lights. Once again the UFO analogues become eeriely appropriate as the slightest touch sends the saucer-shaped animal into a frantic siren-like light show.

Recommended listening

This strange eruption of light is no mere panic response. It is a powerful and weird weapon of self-defense, carefully evolved to be as tacky and eye-catching as possible. It’s like a ganguro girl, only bioluminescent.

Of course, you might ask “why would the jellyfish want to be eye-catching? Isn’t being devoured by one predator a big enough problem for it already?” Well obviously it is, but this lightshow is actually its own circuitous path to freedom.

To understand this, picture the following. You are some big mean motherfucker making a living in the deep sea by eating as much as you can find. One day while taking your regular stroll through the absolute crushing darkness, you catch sight of a distinct, circular light in the distance; very flashy and very tasty-looking. You approach to investigate, and find a small jellyfish being caught by a larger and meatier animal.

What do you do?

Eat the jellyfish like a fucking idiot.

Eat the meatier, tastier predator.

If you answered “eat the predator”, congratulations! You’re at least as smart as a fish. And that is, in fact, exactly what Wyville’s crownjelly is counting on. While you’re busy making a meal of its predator, the jellyfish quietly and sneakily fucks off into the abyss before you could think about having it as dessert. And so, Wyville’s crownjelly will live to swim another day, thanks to the power of summoning a big tough animal and pitting it against another ani- OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE IT’S A POKEMON TRAINER.

Do you see why I thought that? If you sail out to sea with Pokemon Go open on your phone, and all gyms on the world oceans are captured by Team Instinct, you know who to blame.

Wyville’s motherfucking crownjelly.

Sources

Encyclopedia of Life

WoRMS - World Register of Marine Species

Ocean Biogeography Information System (OBIS)

Global Biotic Interactions

Widder, E. A. Eye in the Sea, NOAA Operation Deep Scope 2005.

Hunt, J.C. & D.J. Lindsay, 1998. Observations on the behavior of Atolla (Scyphozoa: Coronatae) and Nanomia (Hydrozoa: Physonectae): use of the hypertrophied tentacle in prey capture. Plankton Biology and Ecology, 45, 239-242.

Herring, P.J. & E.A. Widder, 2004. Bioluminescence of deep-sea coronate medusae (Cnidaria: Scyphozoa). Marine Biology, 146: 39-51

[scoutshonor56]

Sex, Violence, & The Natural Order of Things

How’s that for a Holiday attention grabber… OK, spoiler alert, this blog has nothing to do with the Holidays, but neither is it repugnant, or negative in nature – rather it is life-affirming at its most basic level. ��Before I go on, look at the interestingly beautiful header picture above and think on it for a minute or two; then give your best guess as to what it is, where it is, and who – or what – made it; I think you’ll be surprised.  I myself was profoundly awed.

 Those who know me well know I’m an avid and enthusiastic fan of just about anything to do with nature: I’ve subscribed to National Geographic for most of my adult life, their network is on my “favorites” list of TV channels, and I often record the wonderful PBS broadcasts of “NOVA” and “Nature”.

 Why do I find shows such as these so fascinating? Certainly the incredible camera work, that thanks to today’s technology takes the viewer to places sometimes far away, sometimes in your backyard, sometimes so small it’s almost invisible to the naked eye, or even places far beyond earth’s atmosphere; but the common denominator is all these shows document and explain the world around us; the world we live in, the planet we call home.  A home so diverse in life it’s actually hard to imagine.  Also, a world so full of secretes and yet unknowns.

 You would think that as primates with a highly developed brain, this would be of primary interest to us – understanding our environment with all its complexities; if anything else, in the interest of long-term survival.  But, well, we’re a complex species, and generally politicians, fools, and religious zealots have a different take on the whole thing… but we won’t get sidetracked!

 So where am I going with all this?  A few evenings ago I finally sat down to watch back-to-back episodes of “Extreme Animal Weapons” (NOVA), and “Nature’s Miniature Miracles” (Nature); I’ll start with the show “Extreme Animal Weapons”.  

 In a nutshell, the show was about all the creatures, be they mammal, fish, reptile, bird, or insect, who possess various natural weapons to be used both defensively, and more common, offensively. Keep in mind, we’re not just talking about teeth or claws – we’re talking “extreme”; as in an over-sized growth or appendage of some kind, usually in pairs, that is used for battle. Meaning of course, 99% of the time, male on male to establish dominance. More specifically, with the intent of gaining the sole right to pass on their genes through mating.  

 How’s this for a fun trivia question: In the entire animal kingdom, which species is lugging around the largest attached “weapon” in proportion to its body size?  

 The Fiddler crab.  Some of the species can be as small as a dime, and on the one side of its front end is a nice, small “hand” claw, used primarily for bringing food to its mouth.  Its mate on the other side is a monster appendage that makes up half its body mass, can weigh as much as the rest of the crab’s body, and has a measurable crushing force of five lbs. – more than enough to pierce the carapace of it’s rival. That would be like me having a 190lb. plated arm hanging off my shoulder.  

 But probably the largest group of these armed competitors would be all the mammals with horns or antlers: rams, elk, moose, deer, gazelles, elephant and walrus tusks, the rhinoceros, etc.  Antlers are the fastest growing bone known in nature: A Bull elk from Montana can grow, and replace annually, a pair of antlers weighing up to 40lbs or more.  Imagine the strength of its neck and shoulders to bear this weight atop its head!

 As great as it sounds to be always armed in such a manner, the show also goes on to point out the disadvantages of being blessed/burdened with such an arsenal; this select group pay a price for their status.  For instance, the male Fiddler crab can only eat with the one arm, where most of his opponents can stuff their jaws twice as fast, using both their less impressive front pincers.  Those bearing huge horns and antlers, such as the Bull elk, pay a large biological investment trade-off to annually replace their massive antlers. Having to channel so much calcium into their re-growth, the rest of their skeleton has brittle bones.  The heavier weight likewise makes them just a little bit slower in a chase, requiring more energy to run.

 I couldn’t help but think of our own species as the show pointed out that often these extreme weapons are not even required to be tested in battle; many rival encounters are settled simply with a ritualistic show of power, or size, ending with one or the other deciding to take its search for a mate elsewhere.  How different is that from a macho showdown in any pick-up bar on a Saturday night?  It’s ridiculously easy to imagine two human males circling one another from across the room while sizing up their rival before approaching a single female.  Or maybe she had already shown up with a date, who is presently in the men’s room... and things get serious - well, its “go time”, and at least in appearance, it all comes down to a show of size... or weapon.

 Along those lines, in the animal kingdom the huge appendage is multi-purpose, often also used for show to attract the female. Back to the Fiddler crab, when trying to win the attention of a prospective female, it will be sure to enthusiastically wave around its big claw!  Now think of “bling”, or expensive cars, or flashy suits… How different are we? We may be more evolved, but in such basic biological drives and habits, not that much.

 So how do the Woody Allens of the animal kingdom compete against the Sylvester Stallones?  How is it that they’re still around and haven’t been weeded out of the biological chain?

 They cheat.  They out-maneuver the Schwarzeneggers.  When the female Dung beetle is ready to mate, she burrows down into a narrow pit of sorts, which is zealously guarded by the dominant male who sits atop the little hole.  Not to be denied his amorous urges, a lesser male who is smart enough will tunnel a side entry right next to the female nest and sneak in his self-made “back door” - cool or what?

 The smaller Bull elk will play a lotto game of numbers during the rutting season.  He and a small group of likewise enthusiastic suiters will approach the guarded territory of the female and start a chase, where the dominant male simply can’t keep them all away from the also running female – remember, he is slower in a lengthy chase, and as always, there is strength in numbers.  One of the lucky gang will eventually mount the female on the run and get his prize as he can inseminate in a mere 2 seconds – yeah, not much enjoyment for the female I imagine!  

 OK, enough of the “R” rated stuff, on to the second show, “Nature’s Miniature Miracles”, which obviously dealt with how the small and tiny of the animal kingdom manage to survive on this very big, and often environmentally challenging planet.

 It was equally fascinating, but as I might be boring some of you by now(!), I will include the one featured animal that answers the puzzle of my original question as to who, or what, created the header image of this blog.  That work of art is actually an example of incredibly aesthetic underwater landscaping, and it resides at the bottom of the shallower end of the sea, off the coast of Japan.  It’s six feet wide, a near perfect circle, and was created by the Japanese Pufferfish, who averages about five inches long.  If you look carefully at the image, you can see him just off center in one of the inner furrows, at the 7 or 8 o’clock position.

 You see, the male Japanese Pufferfish is one of the physically disadvantaged in the mating game; his scales and entire body are a shade of blue/gray that almost matches the color of the surrounding landscape, undoubtedly serving him well as a defensive camouflage, but how’s a guy going to get a date when he all but fades into the background?

 To attract a prospective female, the male tirelessly works 24 hours a day for a solid week to create his masterpiece, and all to hopefully lure a bypassing female to pause and think, “Yeah, that looks like a good spot to lay my eggs…”  Both maybe two or three feet above the sand, the male even “corrals” her, repeatedly nudging her toward the center, to make sure she observes and judges his work from the most advantageous perspective.

You’ve got to ask yourself, how does a fish create something so geometrically beautiful and perfect… He even ends his work with a few embellishments and finishing touches, using rocks and shells.  I’ve spent most of my adult life making a living as an artist, and I’ll tell you right now, I’d hang that on my wall over many a museum or gallery piece I’ve seen.  If you were to tell me this was found in an ancient Incan temple, created centuries ago, I’d believe it.  But a fish?  And all that work, just so he can squirt a little semen onto a tiny pile of eggs? That has to make you stop and think – and wonder about the programming and intricacy of this humble fish’s brain.

 When the female eventually makes her choice, it is somehow communicated to the male, who then lets her swim off, knowing she will return to deposit her eggs when ready.  And as a final step, the male then smooths over the center of his beautiful work, making sure the finest and softest sand lay directly center, a perfect mound for the hatchlings.  

 I read the book “Jurassic Park”, and of course saw the (1993) movie, and undoubtedly my favorite character was Dr.  Ian Malcolm, a mathematician who specialized in a branch of mathematics known as "Chaos Theory" (in the movie, played by Jeff Goldblum).  When all the eggheads and geneticists on the island assured the visiting party that there was absolutely no way for the dinosaurs to procreate because all males were weeded out of the process early on – hence, all the resident dinosaurs were female – he expressed his doubt and concern by stating that as a rule, “nature finds a way…” 

 Oh yes it does, because if there is one immutable driving force on this planet, it is the creation of life, and more specifically, the procreation of all existing species, both plant and animal.  A force hard-wired into both the sexes through millions of years of evolution, which is essentially a grand experiment of trial and error.  Survival of the fittest, and debatably even more important, the most able to adapt and change.

 Yes little Billy, there is a God – and his/her name is Life, in the truest and most perfect sense of the word.  It is his/her miracle.

 Before closing I want to share another mind-boggling trivia fact – that’s right Alex, I’ll take “NATURE” for $500:

 Where does 50% of the world’s oxygen come from? “Ah, that would-be phytoplankton…”

“That is CORRECT, for $500!”

Remember, the oceans cover roughly 75% of our planet, and plankton swarms through all of them while existing through the process of photosynthesis – just as our trees and plants.  What could be more beautiful than being nourished by sunlight and hydrocarbons, and giving off oxygen as a by-product?  Why is it so hard to understand that our physical world is an infinitely complex, yet interconnected web of life, and the severing of even one strand has an effect that resonates and disrupts like a sour note through the entire orchestra..?

 But hey, what the hell, don’t worry - if you listen to the GOP, we’ll still have jobs… and gas to drive to them… in a poisoned wasteland devoid of life as we know it…

[thewomaninlilywhite]

Miss Peregrine’s Movie Reactions

I finally watched this movie on a flight last weekend.

***WARNING CONTAINS SPOILERS*** NOT JUST FOR THE MOVIE, I REFERENCE THINGS FROM ALL THREE BOOKS AS WELL anything with various *** marks is something I didn’t fact check, so I apologize if I am actually wrong about any of those

Sorry that this is so freaking long, but I had issues Also, these are the things I wanted to say to my screen, so I don’t have context for them, sorry

Short Version: I thought the movie itself was well done, but it’s an awful adaption

I didn’t know Georgia Pemberton was in this Opening credits music cuts off oddly Who is this chick driving him Abe doesn’t sound Polish ?? Did it really take that long to get to his house? Aight Sam Jackson I miss Spike (I know that isn’t his name) - like, I don’t think this chick has a gun on her Chick = Shelley Oh she does But it’s a .38 not a .44*** so… I feel like this happened rather fast? Don’t think that’s a letter opener either Find Emerson - it’s “find the old man, get to the bird in the loop” or whatever 1943???? Not 1940 Who tf is Emerson Told him what, we haven’t even been told about the stories ????? WTF is that. That is NOT a hollowghast A hollow is only like 8-10 feet not 3 f king stories (unless I misread the books) ——-side note: I always subconsciously pictured the hollows as something (from some movie or something) that I know they didn’t actually look like buttttt) Who’s this shrink. Shouldn’t she be Sam Jackson - what? Case. CLOSED - sorry AWE “everything’s already been discovered” - iconic!!! Tikrisko?? -  Yakov!! NO Jake doesn’t see the pictures until they’re going through the house ?? What is this He doesn’t know what Miss Peregrine’s name is nor that she can turn into a bird He’s not supposed to know the names Bronwyn is older No Emma can create fire, olive floats THIS IS OLIVE Nope, Alma found him. He wasn’t sent this. His family died Doesn’t know what hollows look like. Finds that out when Abe dies All these Jakes are adorable Can they not say Nazis? Because he’s being very nondescriptive The surprise party ong Why are there twins. I’m uncomfortable oh my gosh the essays, at least they did something right Shouldn’t the letter be from Emma ugh So that’s Goland? what the heck Oh now they bring up the birdwatching The doctor isn’t supposed to know about the home*** Cairnholm - good Nope I’m yelling Not supposed to see the bird until they’re in the room And his father isn’t supposed to know Alma Ugh 19 minutes in and I’m screaming I relate to Jake on a spiritual level Whet Defeats the whole sneaking away trust ugh He’s so tiny YAS he shoulda said piss instead of priest but the  rap was nearly verbatim* What is this river? Where’s the sheep shack Wondrous Exactly how i pictured it Where’s the old man Oh that’s how Emerson falls in Jake is supposed to have his own room ugh Oh so he is sneaky But where’s the cairn AND THE OLD MAN the twins aren’t introduced until the second book Enoch’s lair is supposed to be in the basement -The kids and the hole. It’s iconic They’re not supposed to address him Whet I hate this I don’t even know where to begin the twins shouldn’t exist And Millard shouldn’t have clothes on There’s just so many issues This is not a bog UGH this is not wrong it’s sickening the twins are pissing me off oh my gosh -Tim just fell in love with them, didn’t he Okay, the cairn is not how I imagined it but I’ll live They literally didn’t even address the priest hole This is 20s music not 40s ong Goodness Oh now he stripped Why is Millard like 7 And he hasn’t even formally met Emerson yet what is going on He’s not supposed to be taken He’s not supposed have this much information yet Whet Olive and Emma’s powers are switch gosh This like isn’t Yea Alma? Kinda appreciate it though like #relatable And Enoch is supposed to be much younger I give up. I’m going to take a break until Goland arrives … if he arrives GEORGIA IS FIONA OH MY GOSH. I CAN OVERLOOK THE HAIR BECAUSE I LOVE HER Imbrin NOT Imbrine - book 3 literally tells you this Now I’m on break 30 minutes later…Jk: Yes Enoch/Victor Hi bird man - you’re ANOTHER new actor “Air - it does what I want” - what does that even mean olive. I mean Emma Since olive’s supposed to be like 10 the photographs At least some are taken from the books Baron - so like forget Jack/Bentham Guess there won’t be sequels rip Hollows can’t enter loops I’m still annoyed by this At least they got the tentacle right Actually it was controlling them but you don’t know that yet Oh, so they ARE  called hollows - good Disaster of 1908 - wait. Is the experiment address in the first book**** Because if not this means that Burton has read the other books and there should not be this many issues Oh so Burton Didn’t acknowledge the immortality first Well it’s the souls in the first book But the third book acknowledged the eyes so… THEREFOR there should be more hollows than that jeez Disaster of 1908 - Siberia - ANYTHING ??? Oh, second book ref So bird man’s not one of the identities? Jk he probs is Yup whey No. That’s not it. There are several issues Yea? Hollows. Can’t. Enter. Loops The twins are annoying me Is it a hint that there won’t be a sequel Whey IT CANT ARRIVE HERE GAH Alma my bby This would be so much better if it was Jack cuz I love any good sibling showdown Or, are they setting up a second? but they can’t with the whole baron thing because if he’s not her brother, he can’t disguise himself as a falcon Miss Avocet is still with them ?? *sings* she should have been kidnapped toooo That’ll surely screw up the space/time continuum There we go Wait. Did it just eat her?? So much for a sequel That thing shouldn’t even be there Oh wait, yes it can cuz it’s an evolved one. Right!!!!!!!!! If they’re not doing a sequel, they better not kill Fiona and Claire now* awe they never got to bury Victor’s body… Ugh, but the freezer scene is iconic No lighthouse scene either Wait, there’s an half hour left ?? And why Blackpool and not London - what are you doing with your life Really The tiny boat though !!! Goodness I’m so mad Right, of course, let’s steal the sunken CRUISE SHIP No she won’t, because they’re in 1940 But it’s 1940 1943, way after the disaster of 1908 so it doesn’t work that way You literally CREATED plot holes Bloody hell You’re literally wrong Aughck Still saying Ymbryne wrong… What are you doing So no other movies… rip #salty Oh it’s blackpool instead of london because it’s closer to wales. gotcha Oh look, they reference London and the loop in the tube —but not the one in ST. PAUL’S ya know, WHERE THEY FIND THE TWINS ————-AKA the key inspiration for my crossover fic that’ll never happen Where’d everyone else go The story book is one of the best parts of the series, c'mon Whey What are those *eye roll* SIEZE ONE YAKOV and this is books two She literally left those shoes at the home what is this inconsistency ??? Sorry, no sympathy, Malthus That sounds like your problem So unnecessary Such a Burton Movie-esque score jeez Actually LAUGHED at the hollow getting hit by a car goodness Well, that’s one way to kill a Wight Wait, was it ever acknowledged that they’re called wights? Oh, of course, skeletons What is this music I just want Jake to shoot Baron What the f YAKOV They got the black blood thing* —-that was a thing, right I’m over it oh poor you Eye-dly ??? I hate myself Why are they turning into animals ??? What is Horace’s peculiarity supposed to be in this because it’s like wrong ??? Death by flowers - I appreciate it Nope Cuz Enoch just carries hearts on him wait, that’s actually true nvm WHERE did that elephant come from so the twins are medusa? cause I just thought their scream was piecing Cuz then that stone thing’s so not their pecu- I give up Oh, Fiona and Claire are little so let’s kill Olive WHICH IS IRONIC BECAUSE SHES LIKE 10 IN THE BOOKS oh, true love’s kiss wakes the dead. OKAY I’m so done I don’t even know what’s happening anymore Was that supposed to be funny? YAS Alma Hopefully it’s not Alma though Why is she blue ? I just processed that Why would he stop him Oh right shape shifting Ugh IM PECULIAR yo. You’re opportunity was right there WAIT IS HE CONTROLLING IT but does it count if it’s a wight’s eyes Like, why would a hollow attack a wight UNLESS JAKE MADE IT So, no one’s dead? but how is he supposed to get home - you don’t have an Ymbryme !! Wait Alma’s alive nvm So are they gonna kiss or what Well okay then Aren’t they in 1943 though ?? Nice timing Shouldn’t he have missed calls from his dad? Why is Abe alive? Oh, right. blah Why I just I’m cringing No, you’re supposed to say “but you know WHEN they are” Goodness Right of course. So he’s just gonna live in 1943 now okay Do his parents like even know ANYTHING Are they dead? Sure okay Wow right LONDON Oh now they kiss It’s titanic I love Georgia Damn, it was Alma Why isn’t she with them, she’s their Ymbryne Oh they just needed the dramatic shot Mary Poppins is a rogue Ymbryne Crossover fic - it’s happening I actually started writing it when I reread the books over winter break, but haven’t committed to it because of ALNF… What is this credits music ?? I just don’t even know what to say I think I would have enjoyed it if I never read the books but since I did… AND NO SEQUEL the whole Devil’s Acre sequence is sick (and I also love Sharon) and I also just wrote an essay on these books sooo

Well, there. Here are my thoughts on Tim Burton’s Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children

If you actually read all these, mad props. Shoot me an ask and let’s chat about it

[deythbanger]

Comedy: Words 7

By DeYtH Banger Homos are like the brain deficiency kids… they got a specific shape.. they do not put it on the right place. Rectangle gets to rectangle… which means you don't go hace sex with the same gender you search in the other gender the same shape… THE GUY STARTS INSERTING THE PLUG INSIDE OF THE SAME CREATURE… TYPE LIKE HIM NOTHING MORE THAN ANOTHER RETARD God hates them for reason they smell bad, they sweat… nothing sexy about stoic fuck and right now sucking a pipe full of kids… come on those fucks need to be lock and loaded… we need to start killing the kid eater race. Homos get in  more relationships than straight people. Hey, black fuck stop licking your lips it's so awful! I feel awful… "Goodbye.. goodbye… goodbye" Heckling from the crowd… IT'S GOD IT'S SOMETHING NEW THIS SHIT… NEW SHIT ON THE FUCKING MARKET "Your father didn't said to your mom Goodbye… he said "Hello" and they he fucked her and then freaks like you joined the show." Journalist do not care about you… they show package of enotions, nust for the sake if manipulation + to search sensation…. They want this shit on tge market! "Fuck You" Shout loud… fucking shout loud… then Nothing more bothers you than the attached bundle package of shit… and meaning to bad shit… this is what adds up to your misery… Depress and stay home… you are not funny Okay fuck off… you stuttered fuck! "11 million people were killed during the Holocaust (1.1 million children). 6 million of those victims were Jewish. Other groups targeted by the Nazis were Jehovah’s Witnesses, homosexuals, disabled people, and Roma." - This is call strategy! "In Soviet prisons, homosexuals suffered all kinds of humiliations. The homosexual prisoners were forced to sleep next to the latrines, to perform the worst tasks of the prison, to eat separately from the other prisoners, and to offer sexual favors to other prisoners or guards to avoid beatings and rapes. " - We got a seller… marketter! "In his paper “The Behavioral Immune System (And Why It Matters),” Schaller notes that the behavioral immune system is a “crude line of defense” against the pathogens that may affect human health. Humans are hypersensitive to diseases and harmful agents that may be present, which triggers psychological responses. People with chronically heightened sensitivity are more likely to feel disgusted, and, therefore, outraged, by the people around them. Those who are more gregarious in their social life are in blissful ignorance of their increased likelihood of getting sick. For example, sensitivity to the behavioral immune system is at play when someone has an outsized reaction to breaking the conventions of sexual norms, because sexual contact has the possibility of leading to illness. They’re responding to years of human existence where sex could lead to some pretty bad stuff. “When people feel more vulnerable to infection, they are more likely to encourage other people to conform to existing traditions, and also are themselves more likely to conform to majority opinion,” Schaller says. “Disgust (which serves as a kind of emotional cue connoting potential vulnerability to infection) is also associated with more conservative and political attitudes.”" "Because immunological defence against pathogens is costly and merely reactive, human anti-pathogen defence is also characterized by proactive behavioural mechanisms that inhibit contact with pathogens in the first place. This behavioural immune system comprises psychological processes that infer infection risk from perceptual cues, and that respond to these perceptual cues through the activation of aversive emotions, cognitions and behavioural impulses. " "Humans and other animals have a long history of living in proximity to parasitic organisms—bacteria, viruses, helminths—that cause infectious diseases. This proximity imposed substantial selection pressures on ancestral populations, resulting in many different adaptations that, in a variety of ways, mitigate the potential fitness costs posed by these pathogens. Most obviously, there evolved the sophisticated suite of physiological mechanisms that define immunological defence systems, which are designed to detect the presence of pathogens within the body and, when detected, to mobilize physiological responses that encapsulate, kill or otherwise eliminate these pathogenic intruders. " "In recent years, the behavioural immune system has received considerable attention in the study of human behaviour, with an emphasis on the specific psychological mechanisms (pertaining to attention, perception, cognition and emotion) that guide human behaviour. Much of this work has focused on one specific emotion—disgust—that is associated with disease-avoidance behaviour, on the specific kinds of perceptual things that elicit disgust, and on the specific circumstances under which a disgust response is either exaggerated or reduced …" I started reading an article about studying behavior people getting upset and offended by jokes I got nowhere… it is like those I read from the news I think I gonna get smarter and clever… I finish it and my IQ stays the same numbers… the same with sports… IF YOU ARE SPORTS FAN KILL YOURSELF OH MY MISTAKE I MEAN YOU ARE WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT KILL YOURSELF NOPE MY MISTAKE BEER TALKING That's what pick up artist use to mask up there sexual interest… negs… teases and even we can see out there geeks and nerds succeeding with tge women race. When I found out … I FELT PURE DEEPER ANGER… LET'S DRAIN TGIS MOTHERFUCKERS Those fuckers are the same game fantatics with the cheating codes and knowing every detail and secret… they are going against God… I feel great that once I go hand in hand with God. It little startles me… Can he execute a handjob… does he have two hands or he has three? How much? I have seen girls which operate with their habds pretty well! Do not lie to me Do not lie to yourself You are here because your life sucks… women tend to be less funnt than males structured and ready females to laugh at males jokes… males don't laugh at females jokes… abd let's cut the chase the way a woman laugh it's a show up experience of orgasm… closed eyes… open mouth… GOD IS STARTING TO YANK THIS FUCKERS