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pen-and-umbra · 11 months ago

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FFVII Rebirth introduces something never extensively explored in the original game or in the compilation of Final Fantasy VII: Sephiroth's anger towards Professor Gast’s experiment and the contempt he came to harbor towards ShinRA as an organization.

(Herein lurk spoilers.)

While the latter is something the fans have glimpsed on and off throughout previous installments, the second part of the Remake amplifies it ever so more. What began as admitting that the company had fabricated his legend and expressing a desire to live a normal life in Ever Crisis gradually transforms into a lack of clarity regarding his reasons for fighting in Before Crisis (as prompted by Elfe), followed by an open disgust towards Hojo's and Hollander's experiments when confronted with Mako pod entities during the hunt for Genesis. Sephiroth and Zack's ordeal during Crisis Core events appears to undercut his willingness to stay, as he famously considers leaving the corporation right before embarking on the ill-fated Nibelheim expedition.

FFVIIRb picks off where we left off, painting a more complete picture of Sephiroth's dissatisfaction with ShinRA overall. Interestingly, one of the discarded sequences from the original game featured Sephiroth hinting at his lack of affection for his employer as early as the truck ride.

Narratively, the sequence spans the gap between OG and Crisis Core's departure cutscene, implying that Sephiroth used the time on the road to reflect on his current and future connection with ShinRA. His companion, however, does not appear to understand why he is bringing the topic up. What distinguishes Rebirth is the suggestion that Sephiroth came to view the entire ShinRA system as a problem, rather than just a few rotten apples. He no longer singles out Hojo, but rather the entire ShinRA branch, indicating that something's wrong with the system. When "Cloud" casually inquires about the problem with the Nibelheim reactor, Sephiroth responds that it is "people who run it," adding that this particular site is controlled by the Research and Development department. In addition, in response to "Cloud's" fair comment regrading the lack of transparency in company's operation, he rather sarcastically suggests to bring the issue with the President, thus implicitly conveying the futility of the endeavor.

When the party encounters Mako pod residents, one can detect genuine rage in his voice. While Sephiroth had previously shown bitterness for the test subjects during CC, it was tinged with disgust/pity rather than wrath. And once again, I’m grateful to Tyler Hoechlin for broadening his range in this particular segment.

"Cloud's" reaction to the contents of the pods, however, came off a little weird. The confusion appears out of place, because Zack had seen it all before — he had been there to watch the aftermath of Hollander's work; is it really odd that ShinRA's chief R&D scientist spearheaded the entire thing? Perhaps, unlike Sephiroth, Zack treated it as a rotten-apple issue, rather than a systemic issue. Or maybe this is an example of Cloud being an unreliable narrator, having conflated his own experience with that of Zack, which also explains Zack being sort of too green for the First Class throughout the Nibelheim portion of the game.

The shift in Sephiroth's perspective, from singling out Hojo's misdeeds to viewing ShinRA's itself as a systemic problem, is further highlighted during the mansion segment. This is no longer a strictly Hollander or Hojo issue. Human experimentation formed the fundamental core of what ShinRA is now, and those were approved from the very top. As Sephiroth puts it with barely concealed disgust, as soon as the company realized what had fallen into their hands, they became ambitious.

The wording also strikes a contrast to how he used to refer to the company in the past; as such, when Angeal deserts, Sephiroth states that Angeal has betrayed “US”, which points at both his personal connection to the person and the fact that Sephiroth likely saw himself as part of ShinRA circle. In the library, however, he distances himself by referring to the company as THEM, thus no longer perceiving himself as a part of it.

More important still is the rage he expresses when quoting excerpts from Gast's notes. The anger is new, never before seen touch. Sephiroth has been portrayed in the moment differently throughout earlier installments — dejected, perhaps overwhelmed, but never angry enough to snarl and nearly flip the table.

And it's wonderful. It's authentic, and it makes sense. It makes you question how much of that rage has been bottled up, compartmentalized, and never fully processed throughout the years. That rage should have existed, but was suppressed by ShinRA, before becoming internalized and sealed.

The scene is extremely on point on another level as well. As the flash of rage passes, and Sephiroth looks away, hiding eyes behind bangs — a gesture previously briefly appearing in Crisis Core.

One could interpret the body language as being ashamed and unwilling to show his composure cracking. Even in this state he KNOWS he wasn't supposed to let anyone see hurt or anger, wasn't supposed to lose cool. The "wonder child" and the "poster boy" is not to be seen as something other than “efficacious” and “collected”. The habit of suppressing displays of emotion or physical/psychological ailment had apparently become a part of himself. It doesn't take a lot of imagination to deduce why the habit persists. The internalized compulsion to live up to the expectations placed on him by ShinRA and the myth it imposed on his character, as well as the internalized imperative not to reveal to someone like Hojo — anyone— the extent to which their acts or words affect him. There's also another layer to this shame — one of being an artificial creation, but that's for another write up.

The anger towards Gast differs greatly from the way Sephiroth went “Why didn't you tell me?” in previous iterations of the Nibelheim incident. In retrospect, Gast's supervision of the project, involvement in Sephiroth's life, and unexpected departure seem like a betrayal. Gast had not only abandoned Sephiroth, who had likely come to see him as a salient figure in his youth, but had also been lying to him all along, until finally discarding him, as Sephiroth might believe. Gast therefore falls from grace, becoming yet another person who misled, attempted to exploit, and eventually abandoned him to deal with the consequences on his own.

#sephiroth #ff7 rebirth #ffvii rebirth #final fantasy vii rebirth #ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #ff7 remake #ffvii remake #ff7 crisis core #final fantasy vii #ffvii@luv fandoms

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dollya-robinprotector · 2 months ago

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I’d still like to know what you consider copying if you’re willing to answer! ^_^

I just look back and realize you asked about "artstyle", which I don't really have an answer for. I believe artstyles are meant to be "adapted" and "improved" and there's nothing too definite to be called "copy artstyle" for those who genuinely want to learn. Ah, but there are still some shitty examples, so follow me down on this...

For example: Rei17, is known for being an absolutely massive A-hole and treating people like shit, but also a legend for having the most magical use of colors, lighting and composition, along with a perfect dynamic for anatomy.

That is to say: an "Artsyle" is made up of many elements. One cannot copy an artstyle if one can't copy everything that artstyle is made of, and that's a LOT of work, especially to copy a master of masters like Rei17. Instead, they mimic some fractions, that make things easier. But then that's not "copy artstyle" anymore, that's "copy concept", "copy color", "copy composition", etc... and suddenly it's not really very "copy" anymore because when we break it down, those fractions becomes "knowledge" that's really "learn-able":

For example: Turn out Rei17's color skill is a very clever use of color theory and by learning about it, many and many other artists can also use it so vividly, without even looking remotely like Rei17's "artsyle"

Taro-K from TamoTaro

Or you can have some cases who tried to mimic everything - the entire artstyle, and fail miserably. For example, this artist I know from some time ago:

left: copy works from that artist and right: original works from Rei17

above: copy works from that artist and below: original works from Rei17

Now, this is called traight-up copy too, I think you can see why:

left: copy work from that artist and right: original work from Rei17

this artist also copied Azling

and once again failed miserably because he lacked the knowledge and didn't understand the fundamentals behind the drawing :)

Now that I saw those messy lines without a horizon line or focal points again it indeed reminded me of something.... ah!

Now, joke aside, I honestly cannot give more insight into this problem since I'm not exactly too keen on just one artstyle myself. BUT I know it when someone learned from my "concept", "paneling", or shits like that, and especially my "designs".

I remember one time there was an artist, who appeared on tumblr dot com one day, and drew their Whitney with the exact choker tattoo I gave my Whitney, with the exact 4 little triangles on the side too. And when I reached out to them and said I was more than happy to let them use my design, but they needed to know the "lore" behind it, they admitted that they saw my drawings on the top tag and just thought it was a common thing, and despite my efforts to communicate, they never reply again, and then fade away with all their drawings......

Mystery...

Recently, I reached out to some artists I've noticed were kinda of copying or referencing my works, and to my relief, they all admitted their wrongs and were willing to make up for it. For example, when I put a drawing that references my work, side-by-side with my drawings like this, do you see the issue?

This case is not the only one, but it is the mildest of the conversations I have had in the past few days addressing almost the same issues. I've asked the artist for permission to use this drawing as an example of obvious referencing.

yup, they admitted they learned from my work but did not ask because they were "shy and afraid of asking because that would bother" me.

And to that, I say: "ALWAYS REACH OUT AND ASK FOR CONSENT FIRST". If you can ask, just ask. If given permission, wonderful! And if not, oh wew I just avoided upsetting my fav artist any further! Or if the artist doesn't respond: oh I should still be respectful and give them the credit. Do it, be respectful, and give credit to your source of learning because confrontation is never a nice thing to face.

And if you want to ask about copy and heavy ref in Designing, especially Character design, I think that'll have to be for another day because I'm so tired now U_U) I hope this post can clear up something and give someone who needs it some insights

And remember: ALWAYS ASK FOR CONSENT AND GIVE CREDIT!

#dollya ask #gosh it's been long since I last use my brain like dis #I'm really not built for thinking #but here we are #dollya art

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the-anonmaton · 9 months ago

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Over the Edge, or Not

Relationships : Sevika x Reader Characters : Sevika, Original Female Character Rating : Explicit Tags : Smut, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Strap-Ons, Rough Sex, Top Sevika (Arcane: League of Legends), Light Dom/sub, Dom Sevika (Arcane: League of Legends), bottom reader, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Delay, Overstimulation, Edging, Safewords, Soft Sevika (Arcane: League of Legends), Sadism Words : 4,847 Summary:

What about Sevika not letting you come?

**********

You are lying sprawled on the bed, hands gripping the sheets, knuckles turning white, back arching every few seconds, trying to keep your head up to look but always ending up falling back on the pillow, legs open, occasionally wildly thrashing on the mattress, thighs shaking. The cause of it all, the woman lying down between your legs, the Brute of Zaun, Sevika.

She’s been licking and sucking and eating your pussy for only the Gods know how long. For you it feels like hours have passed. She has her hands on your thighs, gripping them hard and forcing them open, so she can have you as open as she can, only for herself. Her tongue is everywhere, dipping inside you, collecting the evidence of your arousal, licking your pussy lips, flattening against them and spreading them, circling your clit, forcing it out of its hood and sucking it. Hard. You are once again at the end of your rope, feeling your orgasm approaching, but you know what’s coming. Every time it seems like she’s going to let you finally come, she’s slowing down. Your grunts of frustration only making her chuckle, kiss your thigh and get to work once more like nothing had happened.

"That's my good girl."

"Please…"

You're not coming… yet.

**********

It’s been a while since she added her fingers to her play. She now has her metal arm under your thigh and over your stomach, putting force with her cold palm just below your navel, holding you down. Her warm hand is at the point of her attention, two fingers knuckle deep inside you. She's mostly favoring gentle strokes, putting light pressure on your front wall, but every so often she will push harder against you, dig deeper inside you, accompanying her move with a hard suck on your clit, trying to bury herself in you.

So when it happens again you can only gasp at the sudden move, still your arched back, grip the sheets tighter and hope that she gives you your release. But she knows your body perfectly by now and she is able to keep you just at the edge, avoiding pushing you over it. You whimper when she stops, again. She stills her fingers and takes her time licking and biting your thighs with closed eyes as she's waiting for you to come down, hearing your deep breaths, feeling your thigh shake on her lips, and your walls flutter around her fingers. She waits just so she can begin her onslaught once more. She also thinks spending the time taunting you is a good idea.

"I love you like this."

"I could hear the sounds you make all day."

"Do you want to go all day, sweetheart? I sure can."

"Hmm… You take my fingers so well."

"You're so wet, I don't think two are enough right now."

"How about another one, baby?"

"Please… Let me come…" Your only response.

You think your whispered pleas have been answered as she adds another finger, starting to build you up again with her gentle movements. But you know...

You're not coming… yet.

**********

And once again she pulls back and you gasp, whimper, grunt and swear. You don't know how much more overstimulation you can take and she's going to be the death of you. What a way to go though.

"Fuck!"

"What was that?"

You shiver, heart racing, and you close your eyes so you can focus on steadying your breathing.

"Please, baby, make me come."

"But you're so beautiful like this. Besides, I don't want you coming on my fingers and mouth. I'd much rather looking at your pretty face."

Suddenly, you feel her moving from her position between your legs and off the bed. You lift your head to see her walking to the other side of the bedroom where your double dresser is. Her words are just now registering in your brain. Fuck. You know what she's about to do and you can't help the excitement, and also the dread, that are cursing through your body. Judging by how the night's been going, you are in for one hell of a ride.

You watch her mesmerized, still in her bra and boxers, as she pulls a black harness from the first drawer and starts putting it on, making sure all the leather straps are hugging her tightly. She also pulls her dark jade strap-on out of the drawer without any thought. Looks like she had a lot of time to think about which strap she wanted to use on you while she was eating you out. You watch her secure it onto the harness and turn to you with a smirk on her face and lust in her eyes. She's walking towards you and you can only think about how a hungry predator would circle its prey in the wilderness.

"I know I made you really wet, but how about we be sure, huh? We still have a lot of work."

The first part of her sentence leaves you confused for a second, until you watch her squeeze a hefty amount of lube on her palm and start applying it to the length of the strap. For all her rough handling and serious demeanor she sure as hell makes sure you always feel comfortable. A warm feeling settles in your heart and you forget about your exhaustion and overstimulation, willing to let her take anything she wants from you.

Then the second part of her sentence hits you and your eyes widen, just in time to see her reach the bed and crawl towards you and over you, the smirk never leaving her face. She's caging you, your head is trapped between her arms and your legs are forced open to accommodate her body between them. She's slowly leaning down to steal a kiss, which you happily offer. You open your mouth to allow her entrance and you feel her tongue immediately dominating yours, the taste of your arousal still on her. Your arms come up to her sides to pull her down, to feel her skin against yours.

Her bra is a nuisance though, and throughout your kissing you try to slowly glide your hands over her back with the goal of reaching the clasp so you can unfasten it. Suddenly, you feel her snatching your hands and pinning them above your head. She watches your dumbfounded expression with an infuriating smile as she brings her hips down and grinds the strap against your sensitive pussy. You gasp, arch your back and jerk your hips from the sudden stimulation.

"Must you be this cruel?" You ask breathlessly.

"Hmm, I think I must."

She accompanies her words with a squeeze of her hands that hold your wrists, with her nose tracing your cheeks and jaw, with another grind of her strap, this time pushing harder on your clit, and you can't help but close your eyes, moan and shudder. The next moment, she stills her movements and you feel her breath tickling your ear as she's whispering to you.

"You know what to say to make all of this stop, but my guess is that you want this. You want this so bad because you know how good it will feel. Am I right, baby? What do you say?"

It's true. You know the word. It's your safeword. You can say it now and you'll be coming in the next minute. It is almost tempting. But you'd be a fool not to let her have her way with you, because she's right and she knows what she's doing. You're longing for the pleasure she can give you. She's done it before and those were the hardest orgasms of your life. You only have to lie down like a good girl and let her take you in whatever way she pleases. You'd be lying if you said that her holding you down and forcing your legs apart while fucking you didn't turn you on. So you open your eyes, look up at her and see her patiently waiting for your answer, a knowing smile on her face as you swallow hard.

"Please, take me."

"Good girl."

She tightens her grip on your wrists and her hips come down again to grind on you. She keeps moving and pushing against you while watching you squirm underneath her body with a hungry expression on her face.

But you're not coming… yet.

**********

"Please…."

The friction she's providing is not enough, and she knows that. It only makes you gasp and jerk at the stimulation she's causing on your abused clit. Your legs are unable to close and you'd be a fool to think you could escape her grip on your hands.

"What was that, love?"

"Fuck me, please."

"Am I not?"

"Please, inside…"

Unexpectedly, the weight on your wrists disappears, the pressure on your clit ceases and her shadow over you vanishes. You miss her immediately, even though the air around you is a lot clearer and you feel you could breathe a little better. After a few deep breaths you open your eyes.

She's sitting on her knees between your legs, her hands stoking and spreading your thighs and coming down to your pussy, where her eyes are focusing. She opens you up with a warm thumb, purposely dipping it inside you and guiding it back up to your clit. You jerk and you make to close your legs, but she puts her metal hand on them, stopping you. After you settled down again she inches closer, the hand that was torturing your clit now gripping her strap. You shallow hard as your eyes meet.

"How about we get this party started, huh? I think you're ready for me now."

You close your eyes as she leads the strap to your clit and slides it down to your entrance. For a second you think that she's going to push inside and you moan at the prospect, but she only slides it back up to your clit. She repeats the motion a few times, toying with the pressure of each slide, making your head spin. Even though she released your arms you kept them up, holding the bars of the headboard, needing something solid to hold on, to ground yourself, lest your frustration gets the better of you.

In your haze, you only have a moment to react when you feel her finally sliding inside you. She's moving agonizingly slow, making you grip the bars harder, squeeze your eyes tighter and hold your breath. You try to push back at her, to make her bury the strap faster, but her strong hands cease your movements and you whimper.

"Please! Sevika, please, faster!"

"Patience, love. Don't be bad. Now I've got to start over. Try not to interrupt me this time."

She pulls out of you and you whimper at her punishment as she starts once again sliding the strap up and down your soaked pussy and over your clit. You're at her mercy, forced to lie down and let her take her sweet time. After a few excruciating minutes that feel like hours, she finally positions the strap at your entrance and begins pushing inside you once again. You grunt, trying not to move and only begging her to go faster. Unfortunately for you, she is literally and figuratively a rock.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll get you there."

It feels like she's mocking you. She will get you near your orgasm only to take it away from you. Maybe it's not even yours. Maybe they are her orgasms to give to you whenever she wants. If she wants. Her words swirl in your head, and you lie down patiently enduring her torture, until you feel the strap fully buried inside you. With a hum you open your eyes only to meet hers above you, smirk gone, concern evident on her face.

"You okay, baby?"

Another check-in, Gods, you love her so much. You leave the bars to bring your hands to her face, tuck her hair behind her ears and bring her down for a gentle kiss and a whisper.

"Please, fuck me, love."

You punctuate your response with your legs coming to encircle her waist and push her against you. Her smirk is back as she gives you another sweet kiss. She pulls back, settles once more on her knees between your legs, grips your thighs to keep them open and starts slowly and gently moving her hips causing the strap to slip in and out of you. You moan at the much needed friction and grip the sheets.

"You're taking me so well, baby."

But you're not coming… yet.

**********

Sevika's still fucking you at the same rhythm she started with, not once losing her momentum. You are either lucky or cursed to have a girlfriend with a stamina like hers, you still can't decide. You feel her torturous slow movements bring you closer to your much needed orgasm. You decide to open your eyes and the sight before you makes you tighten around her strap. She has her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes are glued to the point of your connection watching the strap burying in your pussy and her muscles contract with the effort she's putting into slowly fucking you senseless. You let your head fall back as your whole body shivers.

"Baby, please, faster..."

You feel one of her hands leave your thigh and the next moment pressure is applied on your clit. You gasp again, your thighs shake at the pressure and you loudly moan as you feel your pussy squeezing harder on the strap that's still slowly fucking you, never faltering. You're not surprised that she has the strength to keep going at same pace, pushing through the resistance of your walls. Maybe you're lucky after all, you still can't decide.

"Please, don't stop..."

She's not stopping, the pressure is still there and you feel yourself ready to crash.

"Please, please…."

You can only gasp out your pleas.

"I love it when you beg so well, sweetheart."

You arch your back, your grip on the sheets tightens.

"I'm gonna…"

Your leg not held down by her metal hand is thrashing on the mattress.

"Such a good girl for me."

And the pressure is no longer there.

"N-no, no…"

And your walls clench around nothing.

"P-please…"

A shiver is washing over your body and you're on the verge of tears.

"No more, please…"

"But you're doing so well, baby."

You don't dare to open your eyes. You know you'll see her smug face.

"P-please, I want to…"

A cold hand is stroking your inner thigh, a warm one your hip.

"I think this strap is not enough to make you come, how about I bring something bigger for you, huh?"

She's off the bed again and you're left lying down and panting, trying to control your breathing. Maybe you're cursed. You're inclined to make your decision right now, but something's holding you back.

You aren't coming… yet?

**********

"You know, I didn't give your tits the attention they deserve, don't you think?"

She's tracing your left nipple with the tip of her tongue, before she goes in to suck it gently in her mouth. She alternates between hard and gentle sucks, nips and licks all over your breast before moving over to pay her due diligence to its twin, while bringing her right hand to play with the one she leaves behind. You know your chest will be a canvas of bruises and teeth marks the next time you look in the mirror.

She's already buried inside you with a larger strap, the light blue this time, and she's letting you adjust to it by taking her sweet time ravishing and marking your neglected breasts. You have one hand on her shoulder feeling her strong back, and the other is threaded in her hair following the motions of her head as she's having her fun on your chest. Every now and then the strap would move, drawing a gasp out of you and causing you to jerk your hips.

"Please, Sevika, move."

"You think you're ready for me?"

"Hmm, I'm so wet for you, baby… Please…"

She chuckles as she pulls back from your chest to hold her weight up with her hands next to each of your shoulders and your arms fall to your sides from where they were holding her. She drags the strap slowly out of you and gives an experimental thrust. Your legs come up to lock behind her lower back and your hands fly to her harness to pull her deeper. You're definitely feeling the bigger size of the strap stretching you to accommodate her.

"Ahh, y-yes…"

She keeps a slow pace for a while, and then you begin to feel her picking up speed. She hasn't been like this since the start of this hellish night, when she was using her fingers and pushing roughly against you. You only dare to hope that she's leading up to giving you your much needed orgasm and you beg for good measure.

"Please, keep going, please…"

She keeps going, gradually increasing her speed and you can hear her panting over your heavy breaths. You jerk against her when she hits a particular spot on your walls and you close your eyes as a shiver runs through your spine.

"The-there…"

She hits is again, harder this time. You shout and your hands fly to grip at her triceps.

"Fuck!"

Her speed picks up again and you hear her chuckle. It's not her fastest, but you can only hope. The delicious friction she provides and the hits she's delivering on that one spot make your head spin and your eyes roll back behind your eyelids. You can hear the grunts of her effort and the sounds your wet pussy makes as she fucks you.

"So wet for me…" You swear her raspy voice just made you wetter.

Her speed picks up again and your hands are back to her sides, nails digging to pull her closer. You feel a warm hand on your breast, fingers pushing down on a sensitive bite mark, right before pinching your nipple. You moan, arch your back and push against her hand.

"So needy for my fingers…" You hear her words between her pants.

Her speed picks up again, the pressure on your nipple disappears and she shocks you by moving it on your clit. The overstimulation gets to you and you jerk your hips causing the strap to hit you in a new delicious angle and you huff out her name. You unlock your legs from behind her back and move them so you can push down on the mattress with your heels and lift yourself up in search of that angle, all the while pleading for her to give you more.

"So greedy with my cock…" You hear her words between her grunts.

"P-please, I ne-…"

Her speed picks up again and the words die at your lips. You can only howl at her brutal pace as the plunges inside your worn out pussy and at the rapid motion of her fingers on your overused bundle of nerves. You feel a knot forming in your lower stomach. She's getting you there and you think your heart is about to explode with all the exercise she's putting you through. You're panting, and moaning, and huffing, and humming, and thrashing, and gasping, and arching, and dripping, and clenching, and you're…

"H-uhh…"

She stills. Again.

"P-pl…"

You're not coming… yet.

**********

Two seconds have passed since she stopped. Through the fog that clouds your mind you register the strap still buried deep inside you, her bent body over yours, her face hidden below your chin, her lips kissing the point at your neck that's pulsing like crazy.

"What is it, baby?"

"I… Plea-" You pant as your chest is moving rapidly up and down.

"Take a breath, doll." She murmurs against your neck.

You squeeze your eyes tighter, your mouth a thin line as you swallow hard and a trembling exhale leaves your clenched teeth.

"Please… let me… please…"

You push down with your heels again but she's not budging an inch as she keeps kissing the same spot on your neck and you whimper, feeling tears gathering behind your eyelids.

"Please, baby, I need… Please…"

"What do you need?" She says before she licks your wild pulse point.

"I can't… hold… any longer."

"I think you can." Another kiss on the same spot and you feel like she's trying to burn a hole through you.

"Let me come, please…" You dig your nails harder on her back, but she only moves her mouth to kiss at your throat.

"Oh, you want to come?"

"Y-yes, please."

"How bad you wanna come, baby?" She is a fucking sadist.

"Really bad, please…"

"Really bad, huh? I wouldn't have guessed." Her tongue is gliding agonizingly slow over the length of your throat.

"Please, I'll do anything, please, move!"

"That's sounds promising. What would you do for me, honey?" She's murmuring against your collarbone now and you swallow again, your breathing only now starting to calm down.

"Whatever you tell me."

"Hmm… I don't think you understand how dangerous your offer is, baby." She licks another path with her tongue over the collarbone she's worshiping.

"P-please… Anything… Take it…" She chuckles as you try to arch your back, but a hand on your waist denies your movement and you whine.

"How about I use the spreader bar the next time?" You feel her teeth gently graze your heated skin.

"O-okay."

"And maybe bend you over, head down and ass up for me?" A kiss on your collarbone.

"Yeah, okay…"

She's moving to your other collarbone, licking and kissing wherever she can reach.

"How about tying you up, too? I don't want you moving all over the place, like tonight. What do you say, baby?"

"Y-yes, to all."

"And maybe I'll use the hexstrap, it's been a while."

"Mhhmm."

"And this time you'll be begging for me to stop."

"I will…"

"But I won't."

The thought alone makes your walls flutter. She hasn't made you cum yet and she's already thinking and planning about your next time.

"Yes, okay, p-please…"

"And you'll let me take everything from you. Isn't that right, baby?" And now she's staring at you hungrily, her face a few inches over yours, and you can feel her breath over your lips.

"Yes, everything…" You swallow hard, unable to look away.

If she was the devil you would already have sold your soul to her.

"That's my good girl."

In a blink of an eye she straightens between your legs, holds you firmly by your waist and pulls you towards her as she pushes hard against you. The strap buries deeper inside you and you gasp at the unexpected move. The repeats the motion a few times, each thrust harder than the previous one, just so she can hear the guttural sounds you make.

This time she doesn't need to pick up her speed. She's already pistoning her hips with a punishing speed, forcing you, without a warning, out of the calm state she brought you with her sweet kisses. You scream at her sudden onslaught and lift your bent legs from the bed to bring your knees towards your sides and hold them against your body with your hands. The position gives Sevika more room and you howl as she sinks herself impossibly deeper.

She's fucking you deep, hard and fast and you walk that fine line between pain and pleasure. You feel once again the knot in your stomach and your toes curl as she hits all the right spots.

"I-"

"Take what you need, baby."

And that sweet pressure is back again on your clit. She forces it out of its hood, pushes down hard on the bundle of nerves and you feel a fire engulfing your whole body. You're shaking and trying your best to keep breathing through all the moans, grunts and cries that are leaving your body. She knows what she's doing. Her rhythm doesn't falter and her movements don't show any intention of stopping.

Your senses are overloading. You feel her metal hand gripping your waist harder, her strap sinking mercilessly inside your wet heat, her fingers ruthlessly moving on your clit, your walls clenching even harder around her, and you can only pull your knees further apart with your hands and offer yourself to her. And she delivers, like she promised, like she's done all the other times.

It happened without a warning. You were feeling yourself getting closer to the edge, but it took you by surprise when she finally pushed you over it.

And you crash. Your head falls back and push hard against the pillow. Your eyes roll back behind your eyelids. Your breathing stops for what feels like an eternity. Your mouth opens in a silent scream before you inhale with a loud gasp. Your whole body shudders and spasms. Your hands move to sink your nails to the backs of your thighs, before your thrashing forces them to fall back on the bed. Pleasure consumes you from head to toe, a haze clouds your brain and you try to squeeze your breaths in between your gasps as she brings you down from your high with a steady rhythm of her hips.

"So beautiful… How about another one, huh?"

You hear her as if you are underwater. Your senses catch up to you just in time to open your eyes and see her determined face and her wild smile as she's looking down at the point of your connection.

"Wha-"

But before you can ask her what she said, she once again cuts you off with a hard thrust and you gasp.

"I thought you wanted to come, baby."

"I'm…"

Your walls are sensitive, your clit overstimulated and your exhaustion evident.

"So, how about another one?"

She repeats herself, now that she has your attention while stroking your trembling thighs, the strap still as she waits for your answer. You're trying to come down from your first orgasm, still feeling your walls fluttering around her strap and you can't but give her anything she wants. So you close your eyes, inhale through your nose, bite your bottom lip between your teeth and nod.

"That's my good girl."

She smirks, and then she moves, and then you scream again. She immediately starts pounding against you with the same speed as seconds before your first orgasm. You bring your hands back to the bars of the headboard, trying to pull and bring yourself away from her, but you're too weak and she's too strong.

"Don't."

She growls her warning and you shudder, feeling yourself getting wetter and you whimper as you're once again at her mercy, and you wouldn't have it any other way. Fueled by your disobedience she stops momentarily, so she can leave your waist, bring your thighs up and force them down towards your face, folding you in half, knees touching your chest. She keeps you there, trapped, with no way to escape and continues to fuck you as if not even a second had passed.

It doesn't take long for you to feel your second orgasm approaching and when it hits you you're coming harder than your first. You try to arch your back, move your hips and thrash your legs, but she's a mountain above you and you can only clench harder at her cock and scream. She doesn't stop her movements so she can prolong your pleasure for as long as you can take.

You grunt and moan at the shivers that are coming over you in waves. All your muscles and nerves scream at the overstimulation and you reach a hand towards her to tap at her knee.

"I got you, beautiful."

In an instant your legs are guided gently to the bed and the strap is out of you, somehow without causing any more stimulation. You hear the sounds of the harness and then a thud when it hits the floor. You feel the bed dip beside you and you half open your eyes. You see Sevika's face, eyes full of adoration, leaning towards you to give you a kiss on the forehead, her warm hand coming to gently stroke your cheek and wipe away an errand tear. You hum at the gesture, thinking that this moment was worth the night she put you through.

"Hey, baby. Are you with me?"

"Hmm… love you…"

"I love you, too, sweetheart. How about a bath?"

"Hold me first."

"Anything for you, love."

You might let her take everything from you, but you know you can have anything that is hers. So you steal her hugs and kisses until your breathing and heart rate calm down, so she can lead you to a nice bath and pamper you for the rest of the night and the following day.

**********

taglist : @opropheticsoul @archangeldyke-all

Thanks for reading! :)

#arcane #sevika #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #writing #fanfiction #my writing #my fics

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nutty1005 · 7 months ago

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Xiao Zhan | The simpler is more complex

Original Article: https://mp.weixin.qq.com/s/Zkps0vHvP89ZrMWQIUZ3NA Original Author: JIAWEI This article was originally published on 10 August 2024 on ELLE’s Weixin Official Account 世界时装之苑ELLE.

Xiao Zhan believed that truth brings simplicity. But in performance, he is starting to like multi-sided and complex characters more, or rather, this is the true and real state of human existence. At a time when everything is being simplified, to be willing to admit the difference between people, to seek the possibility of communication, to be sensitive and defend complexity, this definitely requires passion, as well as courage.

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Two black curtains reached the top of the studio ridge, neatly separating the shooting area from the surroundings, there was a need to go through a maze of them to enter the small core space. Pure white, plenty of air conditioning, and the camera shutter sound was high-frequency and continuous.

Xiao Zhan wore black clothes and rarely made any unnecessary movements. For a while, the lights broke down and photography was suspended, so he maintained standing in the dark with one foot on the wooden box; when the staff and the photographer were discussing the photographs, adjusting the styling, he stood alone in front of the display screen, and the weak screen light enveloped his body. Very occasionally, he swayed slightly to the background music, his legs lean but muscular.

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#01 I’m afraid of becoming dull

After entering the entertainment industry, these things quickly became part of his daily life – cameras, spotlights, monitors, and barriers. Because of his career and popularity, he had fissioned into countless “Xiao Zhans”, such as giant portraits on the facades of high-end shopping malls, the projections of an astonishing number of fans, or the appearance of characters in successive movies and TV series.

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Currently, in the dressing room after the shooting, Xiao Zhan was carrying his box of whole grain salad, vividly imitating the scene of meeting director Zheng Xiaolong.

“I was a little bit hesitant, so I asked the director if he wanted me to be thinner or stronger? He said, thin, of course thinner, so good looking, sharp.” After a while, Zheng Xiaolong saw him again while taking final costuming photographs, “He said, hey, you’ve done well.” From then till now, he has lost more than five kilograms.

Xiao Zhan, the source of all of this fission, was presentable and relaxed, to him the glamor seen by the outside world was a supplementary value. Sometimes he even forgot about it and said, “No one really cares about you.” Then he continued to talk about his work.

Recently completed was the 5-month filming of “The Legend of Zang Hai” in Hengdian. The previous film, also shot for 5 months, was the film “The Legend of the Condor Heroes: The Great Hero” directed by Tsui Hark. This was often the case for large-scale movies and long-running television dramas, it took four or five months once you joined the group. In 2022, his filming work was mainly “Where Dreams Begin / The Youth Memories” and “Sunshine By My Side”, in 2021 it was “The Longest Promise”, in 2020 it was “Ace Troops”, in 2019 it was “Douluo Continent” and “The Oath of Love”.

Endless filming appointments. Hence, it was sometimes impossible to decide whether the interval between filming should be lengthened or shortened.

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In the second half of 2019, during the filming of “The Oath of Love”, Xiao Zhan was filming during the day and recording the variety show “Our Song” at night. Both sides were very challenging. The former was his first time playing the male lead in an urban drama, so he had little experience and was under great pressure; the difficulty of the latter lies in the harmonizing, “I had to memorize all the harmonizing that were different from the song’s tone, and not to be led astray. “

“Then, I thought it didn’t matter. I slept for an hour or two and woke up a good man again. But now, while my mind says it doesn’t matter, my body will make some protests.”

This year he was filming in Hengdian. Later, one day, he discovered that his tonsils were inflamed and it was painful to swallow, but he went to work as usual. Until the director came over and asked him, what happened to your eyes? Only then did he see his own swollen eyes in the mirror, held on until the afternoon, “completely like a frog.”

He had to go to the hospital, the symptoms themselves were very common and could be stopped by taking medicine. What can’t be done was exactly what doctors advised the most: you need to rest.

More importantly, “Perception will become dull. I am really afraid of this, afraid of becoming very mechanical and formulaic.” When saying this, the emphasis was on the word “really”. When he chatted with seniors, “They also said that you have to live life, you need to experience life.”

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The fact is that the life in the limelight is somewhat contrary to the life of ordinary people, but the profession of an actor requires him to be in touch with as many folds of life as possible.

A while ago, he watched a one-man show on a variety show, describing the current workplace situation of contemporary young people. Xiao Zhan had opened a studio and worked before entering the entertainment industry. He could understand the gloom caused by going to work, but the new vocabulary and tools that appeared in the workplace made his sense of resonance weaken. He found himself gradually uncoupling to a certain extent.

#02 The flavor of life lies in the details

In early June, Xiao Zhan took a short vacation and returned to his hometown of Chongqing. He loved walking very much, and one night he walked for several hours, visiting old streets, People’s Liberation Monument, and even around the place where he used to work.

In 2014, the 23-year-old Xiao Zhan graduated from university and worked as a designer in a design studio. Every weekday morning, he transferred from Line 2 to Line 3 at Niujiaituo Station, pushing through the crowds and squeezing onto the light rail, and several times he had been squeezed so hard that his face was pressed against the glass windows.

He simply stuck against the glass and looked at the Jialing River below, seeing the strange rocks exposed in the dry season and various people, including winter swimmers, joggers and fishermen, with a rather optimistic spirit.

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He still loved to observe the people around him��—

“Why are you still here so late?”

“People walking in a hurry must be people who have just gotten off work and are rushing back, their behavior is just like when I was trying to catch the subway, when it’s the last train and you want to run, in a panic. Some food delivery guys are rush forward undauntedly. There are also some very leisurely people, sitting there drinking beer, then going home and starting a new day.”

“Everyone has an exciting story happening, and it is everyone’s life that makes up our society. So it is wondrous, everyone is the protagonist, we are all filming our own biographies, how will tomorrow’s story develop?”

At that moment, mixed in, he was like all those who have been busy working in a foreign land for a long time and finally had the time to go home, and discovered that “it had been a long time since I came here, and there had been quite a lot of changes.” “Actually, I’m not particularly happy or have any other feelings. I’m living, that’s all.”

Two and a half days later, Xiao Zhan left Chongqing and returned to Beijing due to work, then rushed to Shanghai, and then in turn to France. This time he brought his parents too. This was a long in coming family trip, within a week, they traveled from France to Switzerland and back to France. Every detail of the trip was magnified, they were happy, bickering, or just walking for a while, “it was all very vivid.”

On the day they parted, they had dinner at a restaurant in the south of France, the car to pick him up arrived and he had to leave first. Before leaving, his mother hugged him and told him to take care of himself. In a rare move, his father also hugged him awkwardly.

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The flavor of life lies in the details.

“I used to think that work was everything and life was not that important, it was nothing more than having a place to sleep, then getting up, going to work, finishing work, and resting. But now, when my parents have grown older, and I have not been with them for a long time, you will feel as if each other’s lives, even your family’s, would become further and further apart. “He especially did not want this to happen.

The way to avoid suspension and regain the real sense of life is not difficult. “When you have time, go out and see more. The important thing is to feel life and feel the world. Even if some of the things are bad and cruel, they are all life, and will burst out with energy when you need it.”

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#03 Stay innocent, stay complex

Halfway through the interview, Xiao Zhan suddenly said that he was ambivalent about long interviews. On the one hand, he was worried that he had not grown up enough and would show ignorance in the conversation, but on the other hand, he wanted to explore some subtle feelings through the conversation because he felt that he was not good at using words to record them.

Observation, feeling, understanding and expression are the essentials of why actors can bring creativity.

“Dialogue is also muscle memory.” Xiao Zhan said, “Although I am very introverted, I am not antisocial. Because I think actors need to learn to express, express your inner thoughts, and digest the content conveyed to you by the other party.”

Before the filming of “Sunshine By My Side” started, he met with the main creators and held several script meetings to deepen his understanding of one another and the characters. In the early stages of “The Legend of Zang Hai”, the producer also mentioned that he would discuss the script in detail and talk about a scene with a lot of his own understanding.

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Xiao Zhan is not an actor with a professional background, when he first entered the industry and filmed “Battle Through the Heavens” and “The Wolf”, he had strong doubts and asked himself, am I suitable? The constant negativity and self-refuting made him lose self-confidence.

Sometimes he would be asked what he would be doing now if he had not participated in the talent show, debuted, or entered the entertainment industry at the age of 23. He had thought about it, but did not look back.

If he was not good at acting, then he needed to spend extra time taking acting classes, review more in the monitors, and ask more advice from his seniors. He put his head down stubbornly, and with hard work, he slowly found the knack.

Later the filming of “Where Dreams Being / The Youth Memories” started, Xiao Zhan played Xiao Chunsheng, a young man from the military courtyard in Beijing, who was completely different from him, and even his accent was completely distinct. He felt insecure. Before filming started for many scenes, director Fu Ning would run over and whisper to him, “Don’t be afraid Zhanzhan, just speak bravely, if you feel it, just say it, the audience actually can feel your emotions and what you want to express.” .

He also gradually gained more self-awareness: “Techniques may not be my area of expertise, I rely more on feelings. Only when I feel it myself then I can have the confidence to interpret it. If I rely solely on some techniques, I don’t think it is sufficiently moving.”

It had been 8 years since Xiao Zhan first acted, and his resume included leading male roles in films and television dramas of various themes. But he still felt that he is a newcomer and hopes to cooperate with more experienced production teams if there is an opportunity in the future.

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He would not think too much, he actually did not know his work plan divided by year. He only cared about the work arrangements for the next stage, rather than “asking about things that are too far away.”

“I still feel like a child now, but in fact I am not anymore. It seems like I am still in high school, but in fact I have grown up.” The nature of a child means curiosity, desire to explore, and power of imagination.

He placed the curiosity and desire to explore into his characters, “I mean, for myself, when I dig into the character’s background and past, I explore the complexity and contradiction of the character as a person, and present it. Only in this way can some of his choices and motivations be understood by the audience, and the work may then be good, and only then can you have the audience you have now, right?”

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#(Q&A)

ELLE: During the break, will you think about anything on the set? Xiao Zhan: Of course, I remember that just a few days after filming was completed, I was still dreaming that I was still filming, and the director and I were still discussing how to say that phrase on set? How to handle that scene?

ELLE: Do you actually miss the atmosphere on the set? Xiao Zhan: I like it very much, because I like the feeling of everyone creating together and working together to get something done.

ELLE: When you first entered the entertainment industry and your popularity grew very quickly, you said you felt it was a bit unreal and magical, but now you seem to be quite relaxed. How did this change occur? Xiao Zhan: Rather than being unreal or magical, after so many years, I feel that I hadn’t had time to adapt to such a fast pace at that time, so when I woke up from sleep, I was like where am I today? What am I doing? I think it is a process, just like when you first enter the workplace, you will be very excited, “Work here I come, please take good care of me”, “My highness is here, everyone get out of the way”, “I can do it, I will do it”. (Laughs) But after experiencing a lot of things, you will feel that it seems that everything needs to be considered in the long term.

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ELLE: In several interviews, you mentioned that you like to play roles that “can convey energy.” Why do you have such a preference? Xiao Zhan: Because I think this is the life of the character. The kind of energy I’m talking about is not just a single, generally understood positive energy, I’m talking about nourishment that can subtly influence and moisturize. I believe that every character has a complete storyline inside, this is what I like very much, and as long as you dig deep, you can move people. I don’t really like to call the villain a “villain”, as it seems to be a bad character from the beginning, but in fact it is not, he may have his own difficulties.

ELLE: It sounds like “transmitting energy” is just a general term, but is it actually about understanding different people through performance? Xiao Zhan: Yes, if you break it down to each character, what they convey is different. But if you want to talk about “good people” and “bad people”, then I don’t think it’s interesting.

ELLE: So do you think performance is a form of communication? Xiao Zhan: Yes, you can say that, I think it’s great to say that, (performance) is a bridge to communicate with the audience. Just like when a drama is broadcasting, I will read some of the audience’s comments and impressions after watching it, and I feel that they have a very rich feelings about the work. When I see some comments that are exactly the same as my thoughts during the filming, I will feel very amazed, as if the bridge is really connected, we don’t know each other in life and have never communicated with each other, but he suddenly understands my thoughts then, I’ll just feel that, oh, acting is a beautiful and magical thing.

ELLE: Do you watch some science fiction movies, TV series, and literary works? Xiao Zhan: Yes, I used to like watching “The Three-Body Problem”, I have actually watched some science fiction movies recently, the American drama “Constellation”, and recently I am watching “Dark Matter”, which is about infinite flow and parallel time and space. Because I think maybe there really is a parallel time and space. Every choice you make will split out a different parallel time and space.

ELLE: Then will you imagine Xiao Zhan in parallel time and space? Xiao Zhan: I will really wonder, for example, is he still an actor? Maybe yes, but is he still filming now? Is he still singing now? Or is he also a designer? Is he an employee or is he his own boss? (Laughs) Really, I will.

ELLE: As for the future, what do you think it will be like? Xiao Zhan: Wow, I feel that the world may return to its original nature when the time comes instead, maybe the world will become a better place, and people will return to very essential communication.

ELLE: This is very interesting. Why do you think so? Xiao Zhan: Anyway, at least now I have a little aversion with this kind of ubiquitous Internet, when we were young, there were no mobile phones, everyone just chatted during meals, my friends would all come downstairs to play, hide and seek, and play various games, I feel that that time was very precious instead.

ELLE: Will there still be an actor career by then? Xiao Zhan: I think there will be. I believe that as long as life goes on, drama will continue. Because everyone needs an outlet, emotional resonance and sustenance, be it images or sounds. So I feel that even if the world is destroyed, as long as there are still people, drama will definitely exist.

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#xiao zhan #xiaozhan #肖战 #sean xiao

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artifacts-and-arthropods · 2 years ago

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Medieval Hermitage atop Katskhi Pillar, in Georgia (South Caucasus), c. 800-900 CE: this church was built during the Middle Ages, and it sits atop an enormous limestone column that has been venerated as a "Pillar of Life" for thousands of years

Known as Katskhi Pillar (or Katskhis Sveti), this giant block of limestone is located in western Georgia (the country, not the state), about 10km from the town of Chiatura.

The church that stands atop Katskhi Pillar was originally constructed during the 9th-10th centuries CE. It was long used as a hermitage for Stylites, who are sometimes referred to as "Pillar Saints" -- Christian ascetics who lived, prayed, and fasted atop pillars, often in total isolation, in an effort to bring themselves closer to God. The Stylite tradition originated in Syria during the 5th century CE, when a hermit known as Simeon the Elder purportedly climbed up onto a pillar and then stayed there for nearly 40 years, giving rise (no pun intended) to Christian Stylitism.

Stylitism managed to survive for about 1,000 years after its inception, but it began to die out during the late Middle Ages, and by the end of the 16th century, it had essentially gone extinct.

Researchers don't really know how the monks who built this Medieval church originally gained access to the top of Katskhi Pillar, or how they were able to transport their building materials up to the top of the column. Evidence suggests that there were still monks/Stylites living atop Katskhi Pillar up until the 1400s, but the site was abandoned shortly thereafter. Georgia fell under Ottoman rule during the same period, but it's unclear whether or not that may have played a role in the abandonment of the site.

The hermitage at the top of Katskhi Pillar lay abandoned for nearly 500 years after that; no one was able to reach the top of the pillar, and very little was known about the ruins that lay scattered at the top, as knowledge of the site's origin/history was gradually lost over time. There are many local legends that ultimately arose in order to fill in those blanks.

The abandoned hermitage was not visited again until July 29th, 1944, when a mountaineer finally ascended to the top of the column with a small team of researchers, and the group was able to perform the first archaeological survey of the ruins. They found that the structure included three hermit cells, a chapel, a wine cellar, and a small crypt; within the crypt lay a single set of human remains, likely belonging to one of the monks who had inhabited the site during the Middle Ages.

A metal ladder (the "stairway to Heaven") was ultimately installed into the side of the pillar in order to make it easier for both researchers and tourists to gain access to the ruins.

The hermitage at the top of Katskhi Pillar actually became active again in the early 1990's, when a small group of monks attempted to revive the Stylite tradition. A Georgian Orthodox monk named Maxime Qavtaradze then lived alone at the top of Katskhi Pillar for almost 20 years, beginning in 1995 and ending with his death in 2014. He is now buried at the base of the pillar.

The hermitage is no longer accessible to the public, and it's currently uninhabited, but it is still visited by local monks, who regularly climb up to the church at the top of the pillar in order to pray. There is also an active monastery complex at the base of the pillar, where a temple known as the Church of the Simeon Stylites is located.

The Church of the Simeon Stylites: this church is located within an active monastery complex that has been built at the base of the pillar; several frescoes and religious icons decorate the walls of the church, and a small shrine containing a 6th century cross is located in the center

There are many lingering questions about the history of Katskhi Pillar, particularly during the pre-Christian era. There is at least some evidence suggesting that it was once the site of votive offerings to pagan deities, as a series of pre-Christian idols have been found buried in the areas that surround the pillar. According to local tradition, the pillar itself was once venerated by the pagan societies that inhabited the area, but it's difficult to determine whether or not those claims may simply be part of the mythos that surrounds Katskhi Pillar, particularly given its mysterious reputation.

Sources & More Info:

BBC: Georgia's Daring, Death-Defying Pilgrimage

CNN: Katskhi Pillar, the Extraordinary Church where Daring Monks Climb Closer to God

Radio Free Europe: Georgian Monk Renews Tradition, Lives Atop Pillar

Architecture and Asceticism (Ch. 4): Stylitism as a Cultural Trend Between Syria and Georgia

Research Publication from the Georgian National Museum: Katskhi Pillar

Journal of Nomads: Katskhi Pillar, the Most Incredible Cliff Church in the World

Georgian Journal: Georgia's Katskhi Pillar Among World's 20 Wonderfully Serene and Secluded Places

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ghosthoard · 5 months ago

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PART 6

part 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08

Waking up to the sound of Hyrule screaming was in Legend’s top ten worst ways to wake up.

He was on his feet with his sword out before he even realized he was awake. Adrenaline shot through his body, his eyes darting around, ready to take down whatever it was that dared to make Hyrule sound like that.

Not Hyrule. Not. Hyrule. Over my dead body!

But, there weren’t hordes of monsters tearing his brother apart, they hadn’t come for their sacrifice, a nightmare that was added to Legend’s amazing sleep rotation of bedtime horrors ever since Hyrule told them the truth about why the monsters were after him.

No monsters, but there was blue light washing out the camp, magic pulsing through the ground and up the trees and thrumming through their bodies. At its epicenter was Hyrule, screaming incoherently as he was bent over Wild— No... Wild’s body.

The magic was making it hard to get enough air into his lungs, Legend’s inhale stuck in his throat, it was that overwhelming.

The first time Legend felt Hyrule’s magic, he knew it was powerful no matter how the kid tried to hide it. Magic as high quality as that was like molten lava, liquid gold, heavy and thick. It was like tasting a well seasoned stew full of potatoes and meat after having gruel all your life. That sort of magic had layers of spark and sensations you’ve never even thought of before let alone can comprehend. So only using “a little smidge” Hyrule had said while keeping his finger and thumb that exact smidge away from touching, wasn’t going to do anything to convince anybody.

That “little smidge” was enough for his magic sword to shoot out enough fire to take down five bokoblins at once.

The more time that passes, the more he’s noticed beyond the power. Like how gentle it can be, how easily excitable it is, and playful. Young and curious. But this was exactly why it was so dangerous.

It was reacting oddly with the magic of Wild’s era. Largely something that comes directly from nature— from wolf cubs play fighting in their warm cave, the way fruit glistens with dew in the early morning, and the flow and shimmer of water— was curiously reaching out to Hyrule’s fairy chime and glow, giggles in thick, neverending fog, crossing a line into a whole new world or over a dangerous boundary that should have been respected— finding a friend so alike them but so much more unnerving.

Nayru, it was like seeing Hyrule and Wild hit it off a bit too well all over again.

The trees were growing upwards right in front of their eyes, the air sparking with fae magic, the undergrowth bustling over their ankles, all glowing and pulsing blue.

…This was too much magic all at once.

The fear of the realization had Legend snapping out of his awe and running to Hyrule, forcing him, kicking and screaming, away from the body, the magic cut off and its force abated for breathing to get easier, for the trees and plants to shrink back to their peaceful, and original size.

As he struggled, Hyrule’s voice was layered with dizzying intensity and his body was almost too hot to the touch, but he was aware enough to recognize Legend and refrain from using charmspeak.

But not aware enough to realize the amount of magic he was spending, how dangerous it could’ve gotten. Not aware enough to realize that it was all going to waste.

“HE’S DEAD!” Legend had yelled over Hyrule’s voice, the words booming out over their camp just as powerful as Hyrule’s magic had been and finally getting through to his brother who froze in his arms.

When Hyrule suddenly lost all strength, Legend had to carefully guide him down to the ground, holding him as he shook.

The tears soaked into his tunic. Legend never wanted to hear Hyrule cry like that again.

Calming Hyrule down took until just before Four and Wind returned from washing.

Legend immediately zeroed in on Wind’s swollen, red eyes before his gaze flickered down to how Four was holding his hand, and his need to do something about it was satiated by Warriors pulling both of them in for a hug.

He couldn’t get used to someone else stepping in when he couldn’t, but… well, he’d enjoy it while he had it.

Warriors looked over at them, looking like a cucco with two chicks under his blue wings. “Is he okay? That was an impressive show of magic. Probably wore him down.”

Legend looked down at where Hyrule was shivering in his arms. The mass of fluffy, brown hair the only thing he could see properly when the kid had his face hidden against Legend’s shirt.

“I have him,” he reassured. Slowly pulling away from the hug but leaving his hands on Hyrule’s shoulders, he revealed a glistening face of tears and a tired, defeated glaze of the eyes. Hygiene might not solve anything, but it was something to do. “Come on, our turn.”

Hyrule was limp and wobbly, dizzy from the amount of magic he’d used in such a short time and the crying he’d done, but he’d be fine after having some sugar. Legend always had a bag of honey candy on him for this exact situation. Wild knows he never ate any of it. He’d have such a shit-eating, knowing grin every time he handed Legend his refill that Legend had no choice but to slap him on the arm before snatching the bag out of his hand, forced to hear the kid’s cackling as he stomped away.

His mouth twisted as he caught himself in those memories. They had reached the water and he helped Hyrule down beside the bank.

He would run out of honey candies eventually, and he’ll have to start buying something else to keep in case Hyrule needed it.

“Wash up,” Legend said, rolling up his sleeves and taking off his hat.

Hyrule took a deep breath, still pretty out of it, but he bent over and started to wash his face with shaky hands.

Silently, they washed their face and hair, and brushed their teeth. A more thorough clean would have to wait but Legend took the chance to use a rag to wipe off some of the sweat and grime on his upper body. As they went through the task, Hyrule’s body stopped shaking and more strength and coordination came back to him, fully oriented and awake.

After pulling his shirt back on and toweling his hair dry, Legend pulled out one of the honey candies.

“Here.”

Hyrule’s face lit up at the sight of the candy, then fell just as abruptly. He held out a hand for Legend to place it on, and didn’t eat it right away, but stared at it there in his palm.

“Eat it before a bug lands on it or a bird snatches it away,” Legend said, hating that expression. “It’s not like that’s the last piece of candy ever. There’s plenty more where that came from.”

His words somehow drew Hyrule’s eyes down to where Wild’s slate was hanging from his belt. Anger took hold of him, and he threw Legend the dirtiest look he’d ever gotten.

That wasn’t what he had been implying. But he couldn’t say Hyrule was entirely wrong since, once he was reminded of its existence, he felt a small relief that maybe there were hundreds of honey candy waiting for them in the slate. Something in his chest that Legend would deny up and down from Hyrule to Lorule was soft and longing, aching with grief, was soothed at the thought that maybe they could still have this part of Wild for a little while longer.

Popping the candy in his mouth, Hyrule moved to stand up. Habitually, Legend went to help him, but Hyrule leaned out of his reach.

“I’ll walk on my own.”

Legend rolled his eyes, but refrained from saying anything like a mature hylian. Fine, if Hyrule wanted to wobble like a newborn, freckly fawn back to camp then far be it for him to interfere.

Hyrule wobbled ahead of him by only two paces because, “you never leave your wash buddy behind,” Warriors had told them sternly awhile back. Always within earshot, within sight, within grabbing distance.

Hyrule was terrifying when he was angry. Legend secretly thought the Traveler and the sleepyhead were the scariest of them all. Sky is a manipulative bastard, Legend won’t be fooled, and you never want to be on the other end of Hyrule’s piercing glare. This was the first time in a while that Legend has been the object of Hyrule’s wrath, having managed to avoid scraps for the past couple of weeks. He’d seen the way the air around Hyrule had been vibrating with his magic and pitied any yiga who dared to cross the fae’s path. He’d seen the way that magic sparked and hissed when he’d first brought up his idea.

Even despite that terrifying anger, the kid stuck by him, the pushover.

They walked into camp separately. Hyrule was quick to go further than those two paces and made a point of busying himself by rolling up both of their bedrolls and doing anything but looking at Legend.

Legend could take a hint. He looked around the camp to find something to do (firmly avoiding looking at where a wolf was laying) and latched onto Sky who hadn’t moved from his spot under a tree.

“Hey, birdbrain,” he marched over before standing over the man with his hands on his hips, “how did you sleep? And don’t bullshit me.”

A small smile twitched onto Sky’s face. Legend thought the endeared slant to his eyes was entirely too much this early in the morning. “Not well.”

Legend huffed in dissatisfaction. “Go to the stream with Warriors.”

Sky hummed his agreement and heaved himself up before walking over to separate the Captain from his hugging companions.

That taken care of, Legend went over to where the cooking pot was waiting with the leftover rice from yesterday. He lifted the top off to peer down at the cold, miserable sludge. The slate hung at his belt and rested on his thigh as he crouched there.

He needed to be quick or else Wild would notice and smack him with a utensil that shouldn’t smart as much as it did, turning his displeased eyebrows onto him, demanding he take his grubby hands off, that it was his job to cook. Legend would throw a few jibes back and he’d be chased off by the cook waving the spoon Sky had carved for him around threateningly.

The anticipation of all of it, of what had become Legend’s ordinary, thrummed through his body. Any minute now… he’d be caught and the moments that followed like a beloved script would fall into place.

Seconds passed with him still crouching next to the pot, staring at the rice they had ruined by adding too much water the night before, and they would continue to pass no matter how long he waited. Normal had changed without his permission once more.

Crouching there, watching the rice slide down the side of the pot, the slate resting on his thigh felt like a hot brand.

The slate was important to Wild. Legend knew this when he saw the kid lose it in battle, how his eyes searched for where it fell despite how the distraction was earning him close swipes from swords and sickles. He knew this when he picked it up right after the Yiga vanished with his brother. He knew when he planned to keep it safe until he could return it.

If he couldn’t return it (to see Wild relax in relief and smile at him in gratitude, to lecture Wild about relying too much on the slate, to ruffle his too long hair until it was tangled and mussed) then he was going to put it to good use no matter how much Hyrule glared at him.

He couldn’t wait to get rid of it. He wasn’t supposed to have had it for this long.

Legend blinked, exhaled, and started to move again. He grabbed the ladle.

…He could make an edible gruel.

First | Previous | Next

@homewardwander @gothroughthelookingglass

(it's only been less than a day since they found Wild btw)

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu #lu fic #lu fanfiction #lu legend #lu hyrule #linked universe legend #linked universe hyrule #spookswrites #downfall duo #Please Perennial

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seeker-ophelia · 5 months ago

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Hallelujah

(There are no Veilguard spoilers in this content, it was all created in early September, I’m only posting it now).

So I found this old Bioware article from 2014…

Its about what the writers listened to when they wrote their characters.

I was immediately struck by Weekes’ (writer of Bull, Cole, & Solas) comment that he wrote whole swaths of Solas dialogue listening to K.D. Langs cover of Hallelujah.

Because when I was playing Origins, way back in 2009, as soon as I heard the words “The Chant of Andraste” I thought of Hallelujah.

No better parallel could exist for me. Hallelujah, if you listen to the lyrics, is not really church related, yet it got absorbed into the church as a hymn. Its fucking sad, and yet we’re praising god or some shit?

Kinda like how I feel The Chantry has changed their religion, their original purpose, Andraste and the Maker and all that, into something horrible (subjugation/lobotomization of mages, feeding templars crack, you know, nOrMal StUfF).

I love the parallels there. And I love that Weekes used this sad-ass fucking dirge for our sad-ass fucking egg, especially considering what KD Lang said about it:

Canadian singer k.d. lang said in an interview shortly after Cohen's death that she considered the song to be about "the struggle between having human desire and searching for spiritual wisdom. It's being caught between those two places." (Be still, my heart.)

And I thought about how Legends Shouldn’t Be Given The Weight of History, and how The Chantry’s purpose has been twisted, and how Hallelujah’s purpose has been twisted, and at the time, I was completing The Temple of the Emerald Knights in DA:I. I was thinking about how the Elvhen temple is littered with statues of Andraste and Mythal (dragon), how there’s a Knight, Andale (which is so obviously Andraste, prob Flemythal reincarnate of some sort).

The blending and melding and mushing of cultures and religions as time drags on, how originally good or pure purposes are changed or shifted, or corrupted.

And I thought of Andraste again.

I have been unhealthily obsessed with this artist named Aly, who is a Bard in Thedas and sings at The Dread Halla Tavern (you can find them on spotify here);

(for clarification, this human is not me, I am not a singer, she is very good, you should go listen to all her songs-after you read this).

Anyways, I got to thinking…

What would Andraste’s Hallelujah sound like?

I had to write it.

Its sad and beautiful and tells the story of a woman flighting against forces she has no hope of defeating (But we still have to try).

[Andraste’s Lament]

And I got immediately transported to a smoky, dimly lit tavern in Southern Thedas. Aly has just sung Andraste’s Lament, and is approached by Neria, a lone Dalish Elf who clutches a scrap of paper tightly in her hand.

Aly listens to this elf tell her a story of a sad song her mother used to sing her when she was young, before she got killed by bandits. And could she sing this song for her, please, she even has a few coppers.

And Aly sits down, scans the paper, and realizes it’s a different version of Andraste’s Hallelujah.

Written in small looping script at the top, in Common, is Dirge of the Dread Wolf.

And she sings it softly to Neria, a strange story of mothers and gods and tricksters and wolves, and Neria’s eyes well.

[Dirge of the Dread Wolf]

She ends the song, the last beautiful Hallelujah trembling through the thickness of the tavern air.

Neria sniffs once, and then begins a new story. Aly listens to this Elf speak of a crumbling Dalish temple deep in the middle of nowhere, where she found a piece of paper beside a four legged statue that has since eroded to expressionless guardianship, of words crossed out and changed and smudged.

Then she shakily hands Aly a different piece of paper.

This velumm is significantly older than the first, thicker, almost crumbling around the edges.

And its Hallelujah again, but its spelled wrong, and some strange name with too many n’s in it is written at the top.

And Neria asks Aly if she can sing this.

But it’s written in Elvhen, and Aly shakes her head, she doesn’t think she can stumble through all the strange Dalish a’s and ash’s and am’s (there's so many damn vowels in Dalish…).

But, Aly halts the elfs falling face, she is more than willing to sing this in Common, if Neria will stay to act as translator.

So the two bend their heads close over the bar, and Aly pulls out her small precious notebook where she writes down the lyrics to her own tunes, and they quickly make work of the Elvhen words, Aly humming and hawing as she changes some words to better match the pattern of the song.

And soon they have a brand-new Hallelujah, and Aly asks Neria to pronounce the name at the top.

Ghil-an’nain, Neria says, and make sure you spell the hallelujah right.

H, a, l, l, a, l, i, e, u, y, a.

What does that mean in Dalish? Aly asks the elf.

And Neria shrugs. Halla is like a halla, she assumes. But this word lieu, she doesn’t know.

Aly assumes in the context of this song it must mean birth, but Neria shakes her head. Shena is the verb for born.

Well, what about victory? But Neria shakes her head again. Ena’sal’in is the word for victory, or triumph.

Aly blows out a breath. She’s a lyricist. What would make this poetic.

What about truth?

The elf thinks, and a small smile grows on her lips.

She can’t think of a Dalish word for truth.

Ghilan’nain’s Truth of the Halla?

Aly’s beautiful soprano soon fills the room, and her eyes widen when a soft Alto joins her, singing along in the original Elvhen.

[Ghilan’nain’s Truth of the Halla]

A haunting melody, completely changed by the understanding of the root of halla lieu’ya, not a praise to The Maker, or the curse of a trickster, but the story of a young god, beaten and battered and blinded, and her creations, and her destruction of them.

[Ghilan’nan’es Halla’lieu’ya]

The tavern erupts when they finish, and poor Neria blushes furiously as her back is slapped, and her hair is tousled, by the patrons of the establishment.

Aly and her new friend make their way to the bar, where foaming tankards await them.

They cheers, and as they tip the beer back, a city elf approaches them, dressed like a Dalish, but he has no vallaslin. He pushes his cowl down to reveal a bald head and shocking purple eyes. His voice is quiet, with a deep, romantic lilt.

“Where did you find that song?”

…

Please be gentle with any constructive criticism on my voice, I am absolutely NOT a singer, I know I don’t have a superstar voice but I’m also not tone deaf, so just… don’t be shitty to me, internet. Listen to the lyrics, not the delivery.

If anyone’s actually interested, I'll message you the lyrics. I also did record all four songs (Andraste, Dread Wolf, Ghilly (English), and Ghilly (Elvhen),) but can only put one video per post. Maybe I'll link them later if people are interested.

*It did not even occur to me until after writing Andraste’s Hallalujah that someone might have had this idea already. I did a little googling afterwards, and someone has put solas’ dialogue to the tune of Hallalujah, but no ones “re-written” it yet in this context (that I could find). My query to you is, why would Solas speak in Leonard Cohen's hallelujah/iambic pentameter if he had never heard it before?

---

Obviously, this can never be turned into a real song, because Sony owns the rights to the OG Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah. But the romanticism of this song, changing through the ages, was too good to pass up. I hope you enjoy it, sincerely, and if you are a better singer than I, by all means, use my lyrics and record it, and please send me the link so that I can listen to it!

Thanks to Weekes, Leonard Cohen, & The Dread Halla Tavern for inspiring this.

Bare your blade, and raise it high.

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pancakeke · 10 months ago

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The comic store had a sidewalk sale with $1 bins today. I found a couple single issue Viz manga releases from 2003ish. This was back when they were mirroring manga so it would read left to right. Some fun examples of how this caused problems under the cut.

These first two sets of comparisons are from Ceres Celestial Legend. Original Japanese manga caps are on the left, my pics of the Viz English release are on the right.

A big problem with mirroring manga was that any text within artwork got reversed. Above you can see a character's shirt in panel 2 containing the letter "E" above the word "ELLE".

The English release edited this panel to cover the original artwork with a nearly identical design that faced the correct direction once mirrored, though the new text is inside a rectangle. I'm guessing the rectangle was a quick and dirty way to cover up the old text and avoid shading folds for the new text.

If you look on to panel 4 you can see that the English version did not bother to edit the same character's shirt. The top half of a backwards E is visible. Both the edited and unedited shirts make additional appearances later.

Sometimes certain panels were not mirrored, but I don't fully understand why. Choosing NOT to mirror select panels can easily lead to continuity errors or other issues.

Above you can see that the English release kept panel 1 facing it's original orientation. Note how the blonde character and the character in the portrait are wearing kimonos with the left side wrapped over the right. This is the traditionally correct method to wear a kimono (unless you're dead and it's your funeral).

Panel 4 of the English version is mirrored which makes it appear as though the character in the center is wearing a kimono incorrectly. All kimonos in following pages appear to be worn incorrectly as well, since they're mirrored too.

I also saw a few instances of weird choices made when translating Japanese text within artwork. It's unrelated to mirroring, so I'm skipping that stuff.

This next series is Silent Mobius, or as Viz called its issues Silent Mobius Blood and Silent Mobius Hell.

This series has the same problem with select non mirrored panels creating inconsistencies. Here you can see panel 1 of the English release maintained its original orientation while the remainder of the page was mirrored.

The same building appears again a few pages later here in panel 1. The English version is mirrored, so the positions of its towers in relation to each other don't match the other page.

Bonus weird translation direction here btw. I noticed a lot of signs in the Japanese version that originally contained both English and Japanese, but the English release replaced them with awkwardly stretched text in English only. There wasn't even anything on this page to justify mirroring it in the first place. You'd think they could have left it and kept the original signs.

I hit the image limit so I'm going to see if I can reblog this from myself and add another cut. There are two more side-by-sides I want to share.

#manga #viz #2000s

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merlin-slut · 4 months ago

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all the different arthurian legend related books ive read

so these are just books ive read that are either based in on the original stories or reincarnation related!! i have no ranking system so this is just based on vibes and is mostly in the order of when i read them, with the most recent at the top (except for the mary stewart series but im just very passionate about it lmao)

The Arthurian Saga by Mary Stewart: SO GOOD i loved it so much it was amazing HIGHLY recommend!!! it was more historically based and is so so so so so well done!! i read this about a year ago and im already thinking of rereading it!! the first book, the crystal cave, focuses on merlin growing up and learning about his visions! it covers up until arthur being conceived. it was SO GOOD and i desperately want to watch the cursed looking tv show based off of it!!

The Once and Future King by T.H. White (this included the Book of Merlyn): there was something about this i didnt quite vibe with. like i mean it was pretty good until the book of merlyn so maybe just skip that and leave it incomplete lmao definitely had more of the whimsical vibe attached to the legends, as its what the disney the sword in the stone is based off of. so, i would say it was only so-so for me

The Other Merlin by Robyn Schneider: okay so i was tricked into reading this by tiktok because i saw the author saying it was waaaaaaaaaay more gay than it was and very merthur inspired and please dont read it if you think thats the case. it does have some interesting concepts about sexism in magic (though not entirely in the way you think) and focuses on the merlin you're thinking of's children. it was alright on its own, as long as you separate it out from bbc Merlin. the advertising of the book skewed my perception about what it would be. so yeah, its not the best but its still a fun story!

Camelot Rising series by Kiersten White: ooooooooo these ones were fun!! its told from Guinevere's point of view but it isn't actually Guinevere!! she's a changeling who was sent to Camelot to marry Arthur and was told she would be his protector from something working to destroy what he was building! it was interesting and so fun to be in guinevere's mind while she tried to figure out who she is and what is trying to destroy camelot!! so fun!!

The Dragon's Call by Simon Forward: honestly no notes! so fun! its a retelling of episode 1 with some added details!!!! excellenttttttttttt

Gwen and Art Aren't in Love by Lex Croucher: ooooooo this one was fun too!! and is actually queer as advertised!!! so gwen and art HATE each other until they discover that they're both gay and decide on an alliance to help each other out and protect themselves!! so yes!!! actually gay!!!!! however i do think so bits were a bit slow and so it def couldve been paced a lot better but overall, wasnt bad!

Potions and Poison by Jacqueline Rayner: again another book thats a retelling of the show!!! it covered s1 e3 and 4! and is part of the younger readers collection so it def was written for young audience but it had some full illustrations and was still fun to read!!!

Once & Future by Amy Rose Capetta and Cory McCarthy: sooooooo I read book 1 but have not read the sequel! its set in space, in the future, and Ari is the 42nd reincarnation of King Arthur. so yeah, its a little different lmao. this one is also fun with ari discovering who she is, both as a reincarnation of king arthur, and with her queer identity! she meets a teen merlin, who, like in white's the once and future king, is aging in reverse, so it creates some fun dynamics! I read this one over a year ago so the details are a little fuzzy but i remember liking it, although some bits were slightly confusing i think??? i remember them trying to take down an evil government and ari being an illegal immigrant! so maybe i should reread this and then read book two?????

Avalon High by Meg Cabot: so yeah this is what that dcom is based off of but the book is pretty different!! i feel like the book is more stereotypical in the way arthurian legend retellings go, especially compared to the movie! still it was a fun and very fast read!! very like YA style book though, but its meg cabot so its to be expected and very much a 2005 book!

i think this is all of them???????? but im going to list what's on my tbr and if yall have an recs PLEASE send them my way!!!

the rest of the bbc merlin episode retellings

le morte d'arthur by thomas malory

bliss and blunder by victoria gosling

sir gawain and the green knight (are there any specific version recs???)

the fall of arthur by j.r.r. tolkien

#arthuriana #arthurian legend #arthurian mythology #arthurian literature #arthurian retelling #merlin

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the-path-to-redemption · 1 year ago

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Once again I am begging for help on how to upload a better resolution please-

I wasn't confident in the coloring at all and gave up halfway. But after spending too long on this piece, I just wanna get it out.

Some design decisions:

The cloud design on her qipao jacket is a reference to Qrow, who wears feathers with his cape. Originally, I wanted to have her wear a similar, fluffy material, but that would've made her too top-heavy.

The red string is a connection to Summer and Ruby, something she made herself.

The pattern on her purple sash is emulating fish scales, specifically of the carp fish. It's a reference to the legend of carp fishes jumping into Longmen (Dragon Gate) and the one who passes becomes a dragon. Since Yang is starting her Huntress career at Beacon, she has the scales and clouds for her design here (carp and dragon respectively).

Tan Yang >>>>>>

I'm going to work on portraits and sketches in the upcoming months, just to practice the fundamentals some more. Hopefully, I will know how to color by then lol.

#pathi's jumpscare worthy art #rwby #yang xiao long #rwby redesign #rwby fanart #rwby au

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corpocyborg · 29 days ago

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Secure Your Soul: A Cyberpunk 2077 Fanfiction

This fic was previously published under the title “Before the Event Horizon.”

Summary: Six months ago, V’s boss at Arasaka ordered her to assassinate his rival. Instead, with the reluctant but invaluable help of her old friend Jackie Welles, she pushed them both off their thrones and claimed one for herself. Now the new Director of Arasaka Counter Intel has a problem. She’s uncovered information that indicates that Yorinobu Arasaka, the heir apparent to the Arasaka dynasty, is a traitor. But without solid proof, she’s forced to take matters into her own hands.

An AU in which Corpo!V never leaves Arasaka.

CHAPTER NINE: SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL

[read on ao3]

Adam Smasher.

V pressed her palm firmly against the pane of glass in an effort to ground herself. She couldn’t believe it. Being in the same vicinity as Yorinobu Arasaka was insane enough, but this was completely mind-blowing.

Adam. Fucking. Smasher.

The man was a legend. If you could call him a man. He’d been full borg for decades—nothing organic but the brain. Rumours about him had been passed around by Arasaka employees for as long as V could remember.

That his original body had been destroyed by a rocket-propelled grenade. That Arasaka had made him an offer: full-body conversion and a 15-year employment contract or death and what little there was left of him winding up in some stranger’s body bank. That after his conversion, he’d once gotten shot with another rocket-propelled grenade and fallen nine stories off a building only to rise up again, unscathed this time, and rip the shooter’s head clean off. That he’d recently been assigned as Yorinobu Arasaka’s personal bodyguard—that rumor seemed to be true, at least. That he was fucking Michiko Arasaka and that he got special privileges with Hato Faction because of it. That he’d single-handedly fought an entire Militech assault team on top of the Tower during the Fourth Corporate War. That he’d survived the Night City Holocaust.

V’s train of thought veered. There were about a billion conspiracy theories about the infamous nuking of Night City’s Arasaka Tower, but one in particular suddenly came to mind.

She couldn’t recall the source, but she distinctly remembered hearing that the bomb that had leveled Arasaka Tower and taken the lives of countless employees and bystanders had in fact been planted by famous rockerboy and known anti-corp activist Johnny Silverhand. Holy shit. V managed to peel her eyes off Smasher long enough to check on Jackie and the Relic.

He seemed to be having a similar experience. He was gripping the Relic’s box tightly against his chest, watching the scene in front of them with rapt attention. When he noticed her looking at him, he leaned his head slightly closer to her. “Is that—is that Adam Smasher?” he whispered. “Goddamn. He’s a Night City legend. Bleak motherfuckin’ one too. What’s our play?”

“We wait. And we stay silent.”

Smasher stood motionless near the elevator. Yorinobu was pacing in the center of the room. He seemed obviously agitated. Impatient, maybe. Every once in a while, he shook his head and cast an irritated glance around the space. Finally, after several rounds of this, he spoke aloud. “Are they here yet?” he asked, seemingly to no one in particular.

The suite’s AI assistant answered him in its cheery, artificial voice. “They approach from the landing pad.”

“Who the fuck are they talking about?” Jackie asked.

“Shhh,” she shot back, though she thought she could guess the answer. She watched as Yorinobu sat down on the cushioned chair beside the coffee table. He seemed calmer, she thought, but he didn’t seem any happier. He wasn’t fidgeting as much, but his head was arched downwards, gaze fixed on an undefined point in the center of the table.

Jackie wasn’t satisfied with silent observation. “Bug,” he whispered, ignoring V’s repeated commands, “Who we got incoming?”

Jackie’s netrunner was good, but hers was better. Carter’s soft-spoken voice was in her ear despite the fact that she hadn’t even unmuted herself. “I hope you’ve gotten outta there by now, V, but if you haven’t, you gotta hurry.” His voice dropped to an even softer tone. “It’s the Emperor.”

Of course it was.

She’d always hoped to one day have the opportunity to meet him. Ironic that the moment should arrive to find her cowering behind a wall like a common thief, instead of greeting him with the gravity the situation demanded. She felt a flash of irritation, at her luck, at Jackie, and at herself. She pushed the feeling forcefully out of her mind. Wallowing was useless.

Beside her, Jackie finally fell silent.

Saburo Arasaka slowly descended the staircase from the upper floor of the suite, though not as slowly as one would expect from a 158-year-old man. He was no ordinary old man. He had access to the best medical care in the world. She’d heard that he spent a lot of time in med tanks, designed to regenerate biological tissue, though he still looked ancient to her now that she saw him up close, his skin wrinkled and covered with large moles. Despite his best efforts, the wear of time was showing. Perhaps there were limitations to what technology could achieve, in his lifetime anyway. V hoped not. If the most important man in modern history couldn’t find a way to live forever, what hope did the rest of humanity have?

With him came someone V didn’t recognize—another Japanese man, with long black silver-streaked hair tied back into a neat bun. He wore a dark kimono that left his unusual neck cyberware visible above the collar. V had never seen anything like it before, though she thought it looked like a variant of some sort of endoskeletal armor. Her optics had already run an automatic background scan of his face through the NCPD database and, unsurprisingly, had come up blank. She signaled them to run another facial scan through the Arasaka employee database instead. Evidently, her new clearance level was actually high enough to warrant a result: Goro Takemura, personal bodyguard to Saburo Arasaka. At the moment, he was methodically scanning the perimeter of the suite. V tensed as his gaze passed over the pillar, optics glowing bright red.

“Leave us,” Saburo Arasaka said. He spoke in Japanese—she’d heard it was the only language he spoke, though she doubted it was the only one he understood.

“Arasaka-sama,” the bodyguard responded, turning abruptly toward his boss. “I still haven’t done a full sweep.”

“This is my son,” he responded. The simplicity of the statement showed he expected no further explanation should be necessary.

“Of course. Should I retrieve what we came here to..?”

V’s breath caught. So he knew what his son had planned after all. She’d been a fool to think otherwise.

“I will handle it. You may go.”

Takemura immediately bowed and headed toward the elevator. V exhaled. That had been way, way too close.

Smasher looked toward Yorinobu, who shot him a brief nod, then he followed Takemura onto the elevator. Seeing the two of them standing side-by-side brought into clear view the contrast between the elder and younger Arasaka’s choice of bodyguard. Takemura was an unassuming man at first glance—muscular, but not excessively so, with a relatively short stature. Subtle markers hinted at his true capabilities—the balanced stance he held even at rest, the faint scars across his skin, the sharpness of his gaze—but there was nothing that overtly indicated he was a particularly dangerous man. Smasher, on the other hand, was pure predatory menace.

As the elevator descended, V heard Jackie release a shaky breath, and she was assaulted by another rush of irritation, more intense than the previous one and directed solely at him. If she were caught here by herself, there was a sliver of a chance that she might be able to justify her presence. But to be caught side-by-side with a merc holding stolen Arasaka tech… that was a death sentence, one way or another.

Before tonight, she hadn’t realized how much she’d come to rely on Jackie, how much she’d trusted him. She had no leverage over him anymore, no way to enforce his loyalty, and yet she’d still expected it. Why? It was an expectation she wouldn’t have had of any of her coworkers. She knew they were all out for themselves. Perhaps in her subconscious mind she’d actually started to believe he was different. And now she was paying the price for that mistake.

Yorinobu and Saburo hadn’t spoken in a long time. Yorinobu was just sitting there, not looking at his father at all. Saburo didn’t look at his son either. He stood in the center of the room, his posture perfect, his hands clasped behind his back.

Finally, he turned his head towards Yorinobu, though his body remained angled away. His deep, gravelly voice resonated with self-assured authority. “Did you think I wouldn’t know it was taken from me?”

“Actually, I don’t think of you. At all. Ever.” An obvious lie, V thought. One told with the desperate anger of a helpless child. Yorinobu leaned back, finally meeting his father’s gaze. “You see, that’s your problem. You think the world revolves around you. Arrogant.”

“Yorinobu—” His father cut in.

But Yorinobu wasn’t finished. His speech was rapid, each phrase thrown like a punch in a sloppy bar brawl—wild, unsteady, but crackling with the kind of force that would leave a mark if it connected. “Why did you come? To humiliate me? To personally see to it that your son knows his place?”

His father’s response was distant and impersonal, almost mechanical. V had the sense that the question had been asked and answered long ago. “The nail that protrudes from the wall gets hammered.”

Yorinbu threw his head back. He balled his hands into fists, then released them. He stood up, briefly facing Saburo, then turning away again. “Couldn’t you think of anything original to say?” he exclaimed.

Saburo watched him impassively as he began to pace around the room. “And do you think it ‘original’ to sell our greatest achievement to Westerners—our future to these… barbarians?”

“Our future? Ours?” Yorinobu broke his pace and rushed towards him, pointing a finger at his chest. “You’re mistaken. You’ve only ever cared about yourself… and your sick schemes.”

Saburo’s response was to continue watching him silently. Yorinobu stood with his finger still in the air. After a moment, he hesitated, backed away, and began pacing again. He went through this motion twice, back and forth from one end of the room to the other, then stopped and stood with his hands on his hips, the anger etching his face turning to a subtler frustration.

Saburo stepped forward slowly. His movements were glacial compared to his son’s. “I knew this day would come. That sooner or later your impudence would cross the line.” He stopped in front of him. They were once more face-to-face. This time, neither looked away. “There is much for which I could forgive you, but for treason—no.”

For a moment, there was silence. Father and son stared at each other, both unflinching, both implacable.

“I’m just glad your mother didn’t live to see this,” Saburo said. “The heart should break but once.”

V saw it coming a split-second before it happened. Saburo had pushed him too far. Yorinobu lunged at his father, gripping his hands around his neck and pressing him up against the pillar.

“Oh shit!” Jackie exclaimed, the need for silence completely forgotten. V winced. But Yorinobu didn’t seem to hear him over the sounds of his own grunting and his father’s muffled chokes.

V watched the struggle numbly. There was nothing she could do. Not when she was implicated in Jackie’s theft. Not with Smasher likely still nearby. At the edges of her dulled awareness, various emotions battled for recognition: a flicker of fear, a jolt of incredulity, a pang of sadness. And, beneath it all, steadily rising above its competitors to break through to the surface of her consciousness: the relentless pulse of anger. She despised feeling helpless.

Saburo’s resistance seemed to be winding down. He was still flailing slightly, but his strength looked to be quickly waning, and Yorinobu showed no sign of releasing him. How absurd that a man who had come so far and achieved so much could meet such a pathetic end.

V had never put much stock in the concept of justice—she didn’t believe there was a God who would one day judge all the sinners, nor did she think any other kind of cosmic consciousness would intervene and deliver karmic retribution upon the unworthy. And the humanist perspective? Ha. What a person deserved had nothing to do with societal standards and everything to do with what they could take for themselves, and those too weak to defend what they had would eventually lose it. She’d known all this was true even when she was still young enough to feasibly believe otherwise, and it had never distressed her in the slightest.

But this. It was the first time in her life she’d felt moral outrage. This disgusted her.

As the last traces of life left the body of the most powerful man in the world, V remembered that she wasn't entirely powerless herself. She pulled up her optics’ HUD, located the menu for the full-sensory BD-scrolling software she'd had since she was twelve, and pressed record.

She only caught the very end, and she knew it wouldn't be enough—video evidence had been considered inadmissible in courtrooms for ages, ever since the proliferation of basic video generation AIs. BDs weren't much better. A skilled editor could weave fiction out of the starkest reality. This recording wouldn't be enough to take down Yorinobu Arasaka. But it was a start.

Saburo Arasaka lay motionless on the floor. His son stared at him blankly. He held up his hands and examined them, as if he couldn’t believe what they’d done. V watched him closely, still recording. His reaction seemed genuine, and there was no one to perform for as far as he was aware. A hot-blooded murder, then. He hadn’t known in advance that he was going to do it. He sat down on the coffee table, not looking where he was sitting, knocking over a bottle in the process. The liquid seeped into the fabric of his pants, but he didn’t seem to notice. “I wish…” he began in a faltering voice, “I wish to put the hotel on lockdown.”

“May I ask why?” the suite’s AI responded.

Yorinobu stood up, walked to his father’s body, and leaned over it, placing his finger at the neck as if to check for a pulse. That act struck V as strange. It seemed redundant at this point. Was it wishful thinking? Or just tying up loose ends? After a moment, he addressed the AI again, his voice now stabilized. “Saburo Arasaka has been murdered.”

“Code Red initiated.”

AIs weren’t usually programmed to show emotion, but V thought this one actually sounded nervous. Or maybe it was just her own nerves making her imagine things.

The AI began projecting its voice throughout the Plaza, so loud that V could hear eerie echoes from outside the suite, all relaying the same message. “Attention! Code Red has been initiated throughout Konpeki Plaza. Please remain in your rooms and follow all instructions given by staff.”

Immediately after, the elevator doors opened, and Takemura rushed in, with Smasher at his tail. Smasher stopped just outside the elevator, a good distance from where Yorinobu was leaning over his father’s corpse. V prided herself on her skill at interpreting microexpressions, but Smasher’s mechanical face simply wasn’t designed to show them. She had no idea what he was thinking.

Takemura kept going forward. He was far easier to read. His composure slipped the moment he saw the body—lips parted slightly, shoulders tensed—then he regained it just as quickly. His posture smoothed over, and he pressed his mouth into a serious expression. “What happened?” he asked Yorinobu.

Yorinobu turned toward him, straightening and moving to meet him in the center of the room. “My father has been poisoned.”

“Poisoned?” Takemura repeated. He tried to move closer to the body, but Yorinobu blocked his path.

“It seems so,” he said firmly.

A brief hesitation. “Yorinobu-san… I doubt…”

“What is your job, Takemura?” Yorinobu asked, moving even closer to him, so that their faces were only inches apart.

Takemura looked away. On the surface, it seemed like he didn’t want to meet the gaze of a dissatisfied superior, but V thought that maybe he was also trying to examine Saburo’s body from a distance. “I don’t follow.”

“It’s a simple question,” Yorinobu insisted. “Answer it.”

Takemura turned his attention back to him, nodded stiffly. “To protect the head of the Arasaka family.”

“Then I do sincerely hope you’ll do a better job of executing your duties from now on.”

His head dropped. “Forgive me, Arasaka-sama. I shall not disappoint.”

He’d addressed him as he would have addressed his father, V noted. He hadn’t done that earlier. A meaningful change, to be sure. But was it a genuine show of support, or was he just stringing him along for now?

As all three men boarded the elevator, V focused her attention on Takemura, trying to decipher the true intentions behind his behavior. She was nearly certain he didn’t actually believe Yorinobu’s story—he’d been instantly inquisitive at first, then he’d turned distracted and hesitant. That hinted that he’d realized he wasn’t going to get the answers he was looking for from Yorinobu, maybe even that he was planning to turn to other sources. But it didn't necessarily mean he would be willing to act against him.

V noted that Takemura’s shoulders were slightly slouched, his head still drooping. It reminded her uncannily of a dog that had just been reprimanded by its owner. He felt guilty, that was for sure. Perhaps it was simply the self-doubt that could plague any agent that failed to complete a mission objective. She’d learned a long time ago to watch for it in her own operatives, to make sure they were still fit to continue working. But V had the feeling that in Takemura’s case, this was something more. This seemed personal.

He could be a potential ally, if he stuck around Night City long enough.

“I think they’re gone,” Jackie whispered. She was momentarily surprised by the sound of his voice. She’d halfway forgotten he was there.

“I think so,” she agreed. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

“Bug, the Plaza’s locked down,” Jackie said, then paused, waiting for the response. “Well, because Yorinobu Arasaka fuckin’ offed his own pops, that’s why.”

“Jackie,” V hissed, “Be careful who you tell that to, for fuck’s sake.”

“Do you wanna get out of here or not?” Jackie demanded. “Any ideas, Bug?”

While Jackie listened to his netrunner’s plan, V stepped tentatively out of the pillar. She walked around it, to the spot where Saburo Arasaka’s body was. She knew she only had a few seconds to do anything useful, to find any proof of what had happened here. She examined the body closely. Her earlier impression had been right—he looked older up close. And feeble too, now that the spark of life had been snuffed out. She bent down, making sure not to touch any part of his body or clothing, and carefully removed his WWII dog tags. She stuffed them in the pocket of her suit jacket. At the very least, they might prove she was actually here.

“V, let’s go,” Jackie said from behind her. She turned towards him. He’d followed her out of the pillar and was pointing at the suite’s balcony with the hand that wasn’t clutching the Relic. “Bug’s gonna get that door open.”

Jackie made straight for the balcony, V right at his heels. They waited, tensions rising every second Jackie’s netrunner used to counter the Plaza’s security protocols. Finally, mercifully, the doors slid open. V stepped out, but a sudden outburst from Jackie made her freeze with one foot in the doorway.

“Bug!” He shouted. “Bug! Answer me, damn it!”

“What happened?” V shouted back at him.

“She… she got made.”

V immediately unmuted her mic. “Carter! Are you okay?”

“V! Yes, I’m fine! What’s going on? Did you make it out?”

“No time! Tell you later!”

“V, no! Don’t—”

She ended the call. She turned back to Jackie, who was still standing inside the suite, head bowed, looking absolutely crestfallen. She raised an eyebrow at him. “You don’t intend to die with her, do you?”

“Que descanse en paz,” Jackie muttered. He lifted his head, and she was relieved to see the determination on his face as he marched onto the balcony. “She said there was a ladder.”

“You mean that ladder?” V asked, pointing at the neighboring side of the hotel. “Are you kidding? It’s a 100-story drop.”

“You got a better idea?”

Despite the constant havoc of the night, V found herself grinning. “Yes, actually,” she said. “I do.”

V had been interim Director of Counter Intel for four months, one week, and two days before they’d made her promotion permanent. It had been a turbulent time, as transfer of power always was at Arasaka. The masses she’d risen above had stirred uneasily, watching her every move like a pack of hungry hyenas circling a feeding lion. And those on her level had been only moderately less restless; after all, the concurrent fall of two influential and well-established Department Heads was a sobering reminder that none of them were truly invulnerable.

It’d been fun while it lasted, but after 129 days of constant plots and political maneuvers, when she’d received the news that Arasaka had decided to move forward with her official promotion, the only thought on her mind that night had been how best to celebrate the occasion. So she’d made a somewhat impulsive decision. She’d bought an AV.

Not just any AV. A model year state-of-the-art Rayfield Excalibur, self-driving, equipped with camouflage armor, and capable of reaching a top speed of 250 mph. A dependable vehicle that could find her anywhere, even if she were at the top of a building and it was in a subterranean parking garage. All it took was a flick of her eyes to signal her optical HUD.

“V?” Jackie said warily. “Why the fuck have you got that loca smile on your face?”

#cyberpunk 2077 #corpo v #fanfiction #cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #valerie locke #corpocyborg #wip #jackie welles #secure your soul: a cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #brotp: mutually assured destruction #adam smasher #goro takemura #yorinobu arasaka #saburo arasaka #director locke #Spotify

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mintytealfox · 1 year ago

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*carb walks in*

*holds up a question*

*yeets*

What the au where norton is big and alice(and melly) are tiny like did they found kurt book but don't know how long it last and norton is now stuck being the babysitter till the their normal size again or is it drugs?

MUAAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHHA AAAAAAAAHHHHHHAHAHAHHAHAHA MUAAHAHAHHAHHAHA

THE AU HAS BEEN ASKED ABOUT MUUAAAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAAAA 🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌

Perfect timing too honestly cause I was feeling sad about Netease being emo as frick with the Norton stuff lol (there is an ask in the inbox about it and I am gonna go so wild once I collect my thoughts 👀)

-rubs hands togetherrrrrr-

so this one with Melly:

was a little one off thing cause I love Navi from Legend of Zelda and I imagine she is so tired of Link and I had Da Capo on the brain and was like 'aw yea these two' LOOOOOOOOOOOL

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

The other one with this stuff:

is super MaCross coded 👀🤌 if you are familiar with Zentraedi then you got a gist of what is going on here lol but here is a link to a intro to the au: here Then this one has the links to everything I have written for it so far: here

I am more of a report writer rather than creative writer anymore these days. So, if its bad then my bad LOOOOOL! If you don't want to read all that then here is this to get the gist of what is up with the world

"Some background:

Two species of humanoid now inhabit the same planet. One from another dead planet and seeking refuge and a new place to live (the humans). This was met with hostility from the original habitants (the larger one). A war broke out for 10 years, for the humans to come on top in the end. The larger species are now used as a sort of work horse in most cases. Some manual labor, others protecting the area and hunting, etc. there are still Nobels and high ups in politics but the less well-off tend to be put to difficult work and conditions. Even though the humans have the tech to make it easier, just don’t want to waste resources. It’s a political way to keep them down, busy and obedient basically. 🙃

Norton, of course, works in the mines." ----------- BUT I LIKE WHERE YOUR BRAIN IS GOING -rubs hands together- a thiirrdddd au cookin I seeeee~ LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL

Knowing Alice, its probably DRUGS that did it -WHEEEZE- Then Melly having to get involved trying to be like "oh my gosh stop sniffin D R U G S" and tries to take it away but it just gets all over~ nice and cliche 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

But I can see Melly having fun with the size change cause talk about an entire new perspective for her research of insects lol -can pet beetle like dog- "who would have thought they liked little pats on the head" So much new research to be done 🤣🤣🤣 Her command of insects is broadening LOOK OUT -WHEEZE-

Now for Alice, there is no stopping her now, every nook; every cranny is now hers to explore LOL no locks can keep her out now!! No document/letter/sensitive information can hide from her -WHEEZE- No drawer or box left un-sifted through PFF No conversation left un-eavesdropped! She is more of a danger to society's secrets now than she was before IM DYING LOOOOL

Yea Norton is definitely gonna have to babysit these two MY GOSH! Good L U C K BRO LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL

(THANK YOU FOR THE ASK!! I L O V E talking about this stuff HA! And needed the distraction honestly SO THANK YOOUUU)

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artist-issues · 10 months ago

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Hi, I wanted to say first off I love your analysis on films and storytelling! Second, I'm curious on what your thoughts are on the movie Moana?

Thank you!

I like Moana. I think it’s a really fun movie and it’s enjoyable to watch over and over again. The main character wants something relatable, she’s flawed, and she’s believable. The visuals are probably what keep people coming back, because Disney flexed so hard with animating the water and the sand and the glowing monsters.

I will say, there are some pacing moments I think aren’t great, some filler stuff in the movie that I don’t think add anything to it. Like, for example, Pua. Pua doesn’t add anything to the movie. You could take him out and lose nothing. Also, the entire scene with the Kakamora.

They are appealing and the giant-boat thing is interesting, but that whole sequence doesn’t really tell us anything about the characters or the world or the story that we don’t already know. It’s just an action sequence. In it, you learn: Moana is capable and committed to keeping the Heart safe, Maui is capable but a show-off, and there are monsters that are drawn to the heart. You already knew all that stuff without that scene. See what I mean?

But that doesn’t mean the movie is bad. It’s just not airtight, and that’s okay, because it still gets it’s point across.

I think the Main Idea of the movie is: “Who you truly are is a combination of where you’ve been and where you choose to go next.” Something like that.

Moana has to pick who she’s going to be and what she’s going to do from the first moment we see her.

She’s already a character “born with” some traits that the other characters don’t have: she likes to explore and she’s not as afraid of the ocean and it’s dangers as everyone else. You could say she “inherits” those traits from “where she’s been;” her tribe and their Voyager Heritage.

So while Moana is figuring out how “where she comes from/where she’s been” applies to “who she’ll choose to be now,” you have other characters doing the same. Her grandmother is an example of “getting to make that choice regardless of what your community is doing; you don’t have to be a product of your environment.” Meanwhile, her mom is just a “product of her environment.” And her dad had the same fearlessness Moana has, once, but after something bad happened in his past (where he’s been) he lets that bad thing inform who he chooses to be for the rest of his life: the chief that won’t take chances.

Then meanwhile, Maui is letting his origins define who he chooses to be. He has to be a hero, and earn everybody’s love, because he came into the world Unloved. Ironically, the gods and the ocean helped him. But their love isn’t enough for him.

See, just like Moana’s dad, Maui has a choice. He can look at the parts of his past that are good, (the ocean chose me/I’m descended from voyagers) and choose to move forward based on that, OR, he can look at the parts of his past that are bad (my own parents thought I was worthless/being a voyager killed my best friend) and choose to move forward based on that. And how you move forward, combined with where you’ve been, is what the movie says your “identity” is.

I mean, think about Tamatoa, obviously. His song describes how he didn’t always used to be a living-legend monster. But now he finds his identity in the literal treasure he piles on top of himself, like trophies of conquest. Then think about Te Fiti. She’s stolen from, and misused, and lets that fact of her history turn her into a monster. A monster who can’t be calmed down enough to be transformed until Moana reminds her of “who she is.”

And by the end of it, Moana ultimately decides who she’s going to be, based on the things that are true about her. Is she a powerful goddess or demigod, like Maui? No. Is she a good-enough navigator to get past Te Ka on her own? No. Is she bulletproof because the Ocean chose her? No. Does she want to be chief of her island and stay there forever? No. All of those things are true. But, what’s also true is that she wants to do something to help save the world, she does love her island at the same time as she loves the sea, and she’s willing and able to keep trying even after she fails. So she’s going to act on those things that are also true.

Same thing with Maui. He’s made mistakes and he’s ruined things, including his own reputation, and he’s finding his identity in his powers, which get jeopardized. But by willingly sacrificing those things, he re-defines what his identity is. “Maui” is not a hero who has the power to do anything for mortals, and deserves their adoration. “Maui” is a good guy who’s going to keep trying to be self-sacrificial even after he makes mistakes.

There’s other elements in it too, that I think deserve analysis. I mean, the movie is saying you have inherent worth. You have an identity, objectively, regardless of what you choose for yourself. Hei Hei is funny but he’s a prime example of what the movie is saying about that. He’s a stupid rooster who seems completely useless, but by the end he shows that he was worth taking along.

Also, when Moana calms Te Ka, she does say “who you truly are.” And all the problems with her village stem from the fact that they don’t know, or have repressed, a part of their history and cultural identity. Her dad is ignoring something that is true about himself: he has Voyager in his nature. So the idea in the movie is that you can choose the right identity, one that lines up with “who you truly are, whether you like it or not,” or you can choose the wrong identity. What puzzles me is how “the gods” and “the ocean” fit into all of that.

I don’t love that Moana insists that the gods “don’t make you Maui. You do.” Truth of the matter is, Maui would be dead if not for the gods—never mind his powers. So in one sense, he would not have anything he has without them, including his life. Additionally, Moana would not be Moana without the ocean. She wouldn’t have the Heart of Te Fiti. She wouldn’t have found Maui in the first place, because she sucked at navigating. She wouldn’t have made it to Te Fiti if not for supernatural help. So what Moana should have said, to be accurate, is, “The gods made you Maui, and you can choose to agree with them or live a lie.”

Of course, the movie doesn’t set Moana herself up like that. She’s not dependent on the gods or the ocean for her very existence, like Maui was. But you see what I’m saying. There’s this tension between what you can choose, and who gets to decide what’s right to choose. Tamatoa probably wasn’t right to choose to be a grandma-eating, mortal-killing monster, but that’s what he chose to identify as. Te Fiti definitely wasn’t right to choose to try and melt everyone who came near her; she’s supposed to be a goddess of life, not death. That’s her “right” identity.

But Moana? Of course the most satisfying choice for her was “be the hero and keep on trying.” But the movie does set up the grandmother’s ghost, there to lead her home in case she wants to give up. And it sets that up as if it would be an okay-thing to do. Not necessarily the wrong thing—even though, if she had chosen to give up and go home, she would essentially be exactly like her father. So why is it hinted that the Chief was wrong to want to burn the voyager boats, hide from the rest of the world, and act on fear…but if Moana wants to give up, that’s okay? Because she tried? The Chief tried to be brave and be like Moana, too, and someone died because of it.

So I think some of that portion of the narrative is sloppily handled. It’s not smart to have both ideas in your movie: “You are meant for something” AND “you can choose who you want to be, and whatever you choose is what you’re meant for.” If not for Moana herself, that last part, in bold, wouldn’t be in there presenting a problem. But that scene where the Grandmother is willing to let her choose the wrong identity, yet it’s not portrayed as the “wrong” identity, messes it up.

The idea presented by all the other characters (Maui, Grandma, Te Fiti) is, “you have an identity and worth that is assigned to you by something bigger than yourself. You can either agree with it, or suppress it, live a lie, and try to find identity/worth in something else.” But Moana’s grandmother, gently allowing her to give up and acting like that’s okay, sort of ruins it.

But I’ll dive into that more another day, if you’re interested.

#asked #answered #Moana #Maui #Moana movie #auli’i cravalho #dwayne johnson #the rock #Disney #Disneys Moana #The ocean #te Fiti #how far I’ll go #Disney princess

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