#one of the things that makes me saddest is ive pushed everyone away either by ghosting them or scaring them. when what i want and need the

[pepprs]

my depression is getting really really bad. like it’s been bad before but this is like… consistently really bad. like a long unending stretch for several weeks (and tbh months) now. to the point where no inoculation actually sticks (and im isolating myself from most of my inoculations anyway and feel unable to stop doing it even though i know it’s self destructive). im either helplessly unbearably miserable or numbing out on video games. i just don’t feel like it’s going to get better for me and i KNOW that is factually untrue but the feeling is louder than the knowledge and it’s just utterly immobilizing. ive been sinking in quicksand for 2 years.

[dragon-queen21]

hello!!!! its been so long i apologize so ☹️ ive been fighting demons and going through story book worthy horrors, but its all okay!!!!

but for 📷 anons surprising comeback,

hear me out, its one piece time woah, little ace with the whitebeards. that kid would totally hid his regression for as long as he could, especially during the time before ace joined the crew. only to be found out either via a meltdown, or very shortly after he officially joined due to a slip up.

real nap time kid. a nap time is always inevitable with ace, whether it be because his narcolepsy or marco trying to push one because ace is getting wayy to fussy for this busy crew.

i also have the headcanon that his devil fruit is just out of control this boy is setting everything on fire, unlucky for the crew because, yknow, they live on a wooden ship.

i feel like hes has a pretty large range of ages he can regress too but normally stays pretty small. 1-3 maybe? definitely kinda kid to insist he can do everything by himself but then melts and gives up the moment hes shown some positive affection. give him a pacifier when its clear he wants one? so over for him. one of the chefs giving him a spill proof cup? knockout. pick him up when hes too small to properly walk himself? hes ran out of lives.

ouh the imagery of someone like marco or thatch holding a very very sleepy ace and ace having his fingers in his mouth and just the other person taking them out of his mouth and replacing them with a pacifier and everyones like woah! howd u do that without him having a tantrum and the person holding him is just like oh im just that good ig IM CRYING INYO MY PILLOW hes actually just a baby i cant even handle it

THE CREW CALLING BABY ACE LITTLE FLAME EVERY BODY SHUT UP AND LET ME COOK

i feel like ace id definitely a fussy baby though especially when he regresses older, ace has a lot of childhood trauma its bound to reflect in his behavior while regressed☹️☹️

okay im done brfore i make this longer than it already is, i hope you enjoy!! ive missed doin this so much omg☹️

📷

I was actually just thinking of you recently! It’s nice to hear from you. Though it’s not so nice to hear that you have been going through such a hard time. As someone who just got over a very hard couple of months I understand completely. Sending you a hug and I will pray in the name of Jesus for your strength and peace. If you ever want to reach out and dm me to vent or talk you can. No pressure of course <3

~~~

Okay one piece time hehe :3

~My vote is 100% for being found out due to a meltdown. Mostly because I like angst hehe >:3

“You need a nap!” “I do not.” “Well just come lay down for a moment. If you don’t fall asleep then you can get back up… Ace?” (Ace meanwhile already asleep)

“because, yknow, they live on a wooden ship.”

<- Pfft okay that made me laugh

~It’s like letting a child play with matches only you can’t take them away.

~Coping mechanism for Ace/ anxiety inducing for everyone else on board

~Oh no but why did I just think of the saddest thing ever is getting really frustrated and one of his stuffed animals or toys catches on fire. He would be devastated and probably hate himself for a long while.

“insist he can do everything by himself but then melts and gives up the moment hes shown some positive affection”

<- Awww that’s so cute!!

~Grumpiest affection starved baby. Insisting that he’s a lot older than he really is and it only takes a time bit of patience and coddling to get him to regress super small.

Marco: Yup I’m just the best caregiver ever isn’t that right bud? Ace meanwhile: (sleepy baby babbles)

~Sometimes he’s super small and he just cries and no one know how to comfort him because nothing seems to be wrong he’s just fussy and flinches away from people and overall is just miserable

Read these first while regressed and this absolutely made little me giddy. Thank you for sharing beloved I’ve missed getting to read all your thoughts <3

[seriouslyblacklikemysoul]

Until Forever - Sirius Black

Hey you beautiful people! Last chapter of Part I. 

MASTERLIST I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X |XI | XII | XIII

Chapter 14. 1978.

           Darkness was infinite and pain would linger on forever. There was no hope; hope was the biggest illusion human kind had manufactured in order to keep going when there was absolutely no fucking point. A black void was everything that ever was; nothing more that the absolute nothing. She felt weightless, as if the waves of the raging black sea could tear her to pieces, throw her to the rocks. Then, she felt as heavy as the universe – drowning in the mere thought of water. Her body felt tired, her mind was restless; not in a good way. She though that life went on but to her, that was the saddest part of it all.            It could end two ways, both equally tragic. Either she would die amongst the rest or she would live. She didn’t know what worse. Truly, never having the chance to see her family again or staying behind? Her entire body got goosebumps and her hands were trembling. She had tried to drink her problems away, just for a few hours, but it only made her sadder, lonelier.                Until she left. She wasn’t celebrating – she couldn’t celebrate the new year. Each passing second, fate was approaching them, faster than she had ever realized. Usually, it was the past that made people sad; well, she was the exception to that as well. She really wanted to go home, for this to be over, to give up Hogwarts and magic and the people. She just wanted her home back, her life, her choices – the ability to choose.                          She was making a run for it. After half an hour of pretending, she said her goodnight, only to few people – well, to the Potters. She couldn’t deal with questions and avoided them like bullets. Once the doors closed behind her, all the silence of the world crushed upon her; and it was louder than the loudest sound. It was suffocatingly loud. Refusing to go back inside, she climbed to her room, kicking her heels off, before even closing the door. A soft tune was stuck in her mind and the Greek poem that accompanied it – the moonlight sonata.              

Let me come with you.

This house can’t bear me anymore.

I cannot endure to bear it on my back.

You must always be careful, be careful,

to hold up the wall with the large buffet

to hold up the table with the chairs

to hold up the chairs with your hands

to place your shoulder under the hanging beam.

And the piano, like a closed black coffin. You do not dare to open it.

You have to be so careful, so careful, lest they fall, lest you fall. I cannot bear it.

Let me come with you.

This house, despite all its dead, has no intention of dying.

It insists on living with its dead

on living off its dead

on living off of the certainty of its death

and on still keeping house for its dead, the rotting beds and shelves.

Let me come with you.

Oh, are you going? Goodnight. No, I won’t come. Goodnight.

I’ll be going myself in a little. Thank you.

              She softly spoke the words to the still air as she was looking outside of her window, a wave of nostalgia crushing to her like a tsunami. She was deep into her thoughts, into her world of roses, poems, stardust and a serene chaos. She felt at peace in the midst of a hurricane, within dramatic lines, written by poets with elegant noses and strong beliefs. The music kept repeating memories, stirring them up as it went on. She didn’t want a happy ending, she sadly realized; she wanted tragedy, passion and catastrophe; she wanted everything and nothing. She wanted absolution. Just like every heroine in the ancient tragedies; it was in her nature.                      He didn’t dare to speak, to make a sound; he held his breath in fear of waking up from the tender dream he was having; a vision right before his eyes. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea, but he felt pulled towards her as if he had no other place to be; as if he was meant to be in her room. She knew that someone was watching her, and she already guessed who but took her time to face with him, with an all-knowing smile.               He was caught of guard, trying to retain his posture and temper or he would just turn around and run away for good. Feeling rather ashamed that he got caught, not that he was invading her privacy, he looked at the floor, blushing ever so slightly. She really didn’t mind. How could she?                    “Do you like it?” she airily asked him, as she remained by the window. He gulped. He knew she was talking about the poem he heard her recite but he couldn’t shake her image, entering the ballroom. Yes, he loved it.                        “I didn’t know that one” he admitted quite subtly. She wasn’t surprised; it was by a Greek poet and it was an intense portrayal of the subject of loneliness and alienation of the uncommitted individual. The lady in the poem represented that part of the old world, which the poet thought it was condemned to perish with its aristocratic past because of its aversion to adapt and participate in the process of change. She thought that if anyone understood that feeling, was him.              “I know” she melodiously informed him. She was enticing and it was hard for him to stay away. Not that he wanted to, in any case. No, he didn’t know which magical poem had stolen her heart but he did know that she was standing under the moonlight, her essence becoming ethereal. How evident it became? She didn’t believe in happiness and that scared him; he could feel for her but even he believed that there has to be a better way, it has to get better. She seemed to contradict him by simply suggesting that there was no point in … well, anything.              Such a hopeless wanderer’s soul, she had. She was made from a different material, a nihilist and an idealist, a desperate romantic and a catastrophic pragmatist. How wonderfully vague her outlines were. Maybe it was because she was wearing a gold waterfall for a dress, but he knew better – he just couldn’t stop gawking.; to be fair he was an 18-year-old boy.            “Why did you leave so soon?” he asked her without hesitation, as if al the barriers had collapsed under the moonlight. She solely focused on his eyes and he could not avert his gaze.                   “Tristes sous leurs déguisements fantasques - I believe it is” she quoted Verlaine and that, he did know. Sad beneath fantastic disguises. Why would she ever feel that way? He was only fooling himself. He was lying, pretending not to feel the way he did, pretending that there was nothing between them, pretending he was happy torturing Marlene, pretending everything was fine and the way they were supposed to be.         “Votre âme est un paysage choisi” he quoted back, letting her know that his French was so much better than hers and that he paid attention to the details. He truly did. It was almost inappropriate for her to like him or even to think about how his eyes shined liked spilled mercury under the moonlight. However, the biggest problem was that it was unrequited.                             He took one step towards her direction, fully aware of the fragile moment they shared. She saw the shift in his eyes and her entire mind was screaming to her to shut up. Everyone else was probably celebrating in the midst of an upcoming war but she was fighting another one all on her own. Keeping secrets from the people whom their fates were sealed and she could not do a thing was becoming heavier by the second and that broke her.        

           “What – what is really happening here, love?” he questioned her with a slight anger lingering on in his voice – anger that he didn’t know he was experiencing. She was surprised by the very thought of him being angry. He wasn’t angry at her per se, he was really shaken off about not being in the known, having blanks that he had to fill by himself when it should have been her answers instead of his imagination.              She wanted to tell him everything and then her mind went to the time he spent in prison for no reason at all, and she swallowed hard. How would she ever be able to come clean about that. Remus was a bit easier – yes, he was still very hurt and shocked and everything in the middle but Sirius… it was always different with him. It was always different when it came to him – she was …                  “I want to tell you but it’s too much. Please don’t ask me to be honest with you. Not on that level. Anything else, I will answer. Not that” she finally told him. At least, she was acknowledging all the hypocrisy and all the lying, he thought. He wasn’t looking for that answer though, he wanted the real reason behind her entire existence in his life, and so he closed the gap between them. His tall frame was towering over her, her back was pressed to the wall next to the window and his eyes were piercing her face for clues.                    “No. You don’t get to do that. I have been nothing but honest with you about everything. You don’t get to hide now” he pushed further, making her arch her eyebrow. As he realized that he had overstepped the boundaries, he tried to take a step back but her finger was already poking his chest through his unbuttoned shirt and undone tie.                  “You? Honest? Really? Is that what you tell yourself before you go to sleep? That you are honest with me? Or that you’re honest with yourself? Because neither -                        “Fine, what do you want me to say?” he cut her off, revealing his hot temper with a flush that appeared in his face – something she had never seen before and she had to remind herself that this Sirius was not the one from the books. He wasn’t a character anymore; he was a real person – breathing down on her.                            She closed her eyes, not wanting to create any more tension that what had already been created but he was not having it. He wanted answers, now more than ever, even if he knew that he, himself, had been lying all that time – this was not the same. He was lying about his feelings; she was lying about everything.                        “Who are you? Who could you possibly be to come here through the fucking sky? To come here and turn everything upside down. To make me question things that I thought I had figured out long ago. To make me jealous of my own best friend and to make me want to destroy every sound thing. Who are you?” he bombarded her with accusations that he wanted figured out now. And all it took was one hot second before she screamed the answers back to him, each hitting like a bullet to his heart, each being louder and louder only to finish off with a dead silence.                        “You think you are the one suffering? I have been trapped here for too long, I miss my home, my family, my life. I want out. I am done playing a stupid part in this scenario. I know everything. I know how are you going to end up, when, where, who dies, who lives, who fucking betrays – because I came from the sky. The fucking sky. I don’t know how or even who I am anymore. I thought you were a book character and every single thing was only real in my imagination and the pages of seven books. But no. I fucking live in the damn past – not mine. NO. A past from a different possibility. Twenty years before my birth date. And of course, out of every mistake I could possibly make, every choice gone mad, I had to - ”.

           Usually, there were two basic motivating forces: fear and love. When people were afraid, they tend to pull back from life, when in love, the open up to all that life has to offer with passion, excitement and acceptance. And while fear was easier, almost natural to them, they knew that they had to step outside their comfort zone.                  Not finishing off her sentence, leaving it there hanging in the middle of the thick air between them, was her way of giving him space to decide and her a breather. Her mind was yelling at her to stop and think about all those things that actually mattered but not every act was a result of sensibility. Her accusing finger was still on his chest; as a matter of fact, her entire palm was being pressed against his skin – not his shirt anymore. The information was not new to him; he knew, deep down he did.              Each night before he would fall asleep, he was trying to decode and figure her out, even just a bit. He was repeating the things she had said during the day, realizing just how much of an insight she had and wondering if it was just that or… It started of small, a few words of more than wisdom were spoken, a few things were said that she could not possibly know about… and the ever-present aura of secrecy. Her tattoos were one thing, her words were another. It wasn’t news to him and she noticed that. Her anger calmed down to a side smile.                “But you already knew” she concluded and her touch became gentler against his chest. Gentle as a fire. He looked at her with a desperate look, as if he wanted to do so much, to say so much but couldn’t. Sirius was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a cheater.             Instead of pushing her against the wall and kissing her like he had already pictured in his head about a million times, he stepped back and he sat on the bed, eyes always glued to her.              “I think I did” he agreed, more to his own mind than to her words. She took a deep breath and used the chair in front of the boudoir, to the left of the big window, facing him while at the same time keeping her distance.                          “I still don’t think I can tell you everything, Sirius” she softly apologized but he shook his head.                    “It’s okay. It’s okay if I am the one dying, love, or the one going mad. You will tell when or if you’re ready. I’m sorry for… this” he said, indicating the space between them but she brushed it off. How much longer would she able to keep it hidden from James and Peter, she didn’t know.                  “Sirius… it’s not that simple. I know what I know from the books. So, basically, from I come from, the dimension and the time period, you, the boys, Hogwarts… magic, everything is fiction and contained within seven books that are not even about you. While these books go on, you are older and have gone through a lot. I know that part. I don’t know if it will happen the way it was supposed to, since I am here and I wasn’t supposed to, I think, but I also can’t change much in this plot. Or even if I can, I don’t know if I should. Messing with time and history is not something I am looking forward to do. Although, if I could change some things, I would without blinking” she admitted, staying as close to the truth as she could, without revealing too much. How could she face him and tell him what was about to happen to him in a few years? He wouldn’t even get to turn her age before Azkaban… and that hit her differently.                        “I know that there is something dark in the things you are not saying. And I know that I am neither the one who dies nor the one who lives from the way your eyes never met mine when I said it. Maybe the one who goes crazy but not exactly. That’s okay. It would happen either you were here or not. It’s better that you are. I don’t know if it is for you… I cannot imagine the weight of all those things. I am sorry” he told her sincerely. They shared so many things; intuition, depth, passion. And a five-year gap.            “So you see, celebrating didn’t feel appropriate” she concluded airily. But he looked at her in a perplexed expression.                  “On the contrary. We should. Now more than ever. Because after all, we only have this moment, isn’t that so?” he proposed and she was astonished because he was right. He didn’t want to talk about it more, knowing that something bad happened to all of them, and that she didn’t want to say what. He understood her – it was cruel, such disastrous things being delivered by her. She held answers to questions they hadn’t even thought about yet. He could never blame her for not coming forward. Even though he wanted to be her confidant, the one she would spill her heart out he knew that she wouldn’t. Some things were better left unsaid… but…not forever.                      “You should go back to your friends” she suggested, as she felt worn out, wanting nothing more than to get out of the dress and makeup.                                  “I thought we were friends” he chuckled darkly, earing a fixed glance from her piercing eyes.            “Oh Sirius. You and I…we could never be friends” she admitted and there was not a single shy cell in her body. Her entire mind had shut up and every word coming out of her mouth was a sharp slap across his face, hitting him with the truest statement she could have said. He licked his lips and tamed his tongue not to respond the only way he truly wanted to as he got up and buttoned up again, to rejoin the party.                      “Remus knows?” he asked but it came out as a bold statement. He was jealous he wasn’t the first one to know this, or how her lips felt against his. He shook the image out of his head and focused his eyes one her. She was radiant but she wasn’t fooling anyone – she might have worn a gold dress but she was the moon, dark, secret and almost untouchable. Almost.                    “He does” she confirmed, realizing just how jealous he could get. She didn’t like possessiveness, mainly because she was the one being possessive in her previous relationships, but with Sirius…she could, perhaps, turn a blind eye. He was unexpected in every way, to her. He was biting his lip, deep in thought. It was tragically doomed and yet he found beauty among the disaster. It was fragile and soft, so tender but raw, catastrophe pouring down at everything. It was problematic – making homes out of people. But he had never felt more at home than with people; his best mates, his school, her.  His house never felt like a home and yet he was surrounded by it. And now, a strange feeling washed over his heart. What was he doing, letting her go?                He waned to kiss her, without a warning, with permission, without even deciding to do so but simply because he couldn’t think of anything else. He needed that breath she was holding. It belonged to him and he wanted it back. But there was that small voice, so ever faint, that told him it was not the time nor the place to do so. He had to physically stop from heading towards her rather than the door. And he didn’t know why he stopped.             “Love, I…” he started but she gave him a sharp look.                        “Don’t” she whispered and he left with a heartbreaking look on his delicate features.       

           She found an excuse not to return to the party. She would find an excuse to return to Hogwarts as soon as possible, otherwise her entire being would implode and no one would even notice. She would just collapse under the pressure of knowledge and no one would even understand how hard her life had suddenly become. She was the girl who wanted to know everything, who went looking for knowledge every place she visited and she had become the girl who wished she didn’t know the future, who was oblivious and blissful, who stayed silent and didn’t challenge the world.                It was too early. Too late maybe. No one was partying, no one was in the living room, no one was making any sound. She tiptoed around a bit. The fireplace was livid, calming and consuming at the same time as if it was calling to her. Everything will end up in flames. Not ice, but hellfire. It was the saddest thing she could have thought of. Protecting a breakable heart. What if she got the chance to leave?              “Would I?” she whispered to herself. No. And that feeling of knowing that she wouldn’t be able to leave even if she did find a way, that she wouldn’t go back to her own family and her own life, that very feeling made her realize that this was indeed her home, that the people in this reality were her family and that this was her now. And she had to fight for her home and her family. She had to at least try.              “We missed you at the party” a soft voice caught her off guard. She took a deep breath. This was it. This hide and seek had to end. Once she turned around, he saw how serious she was and immediately understood that something was off. His eyes were tired but alert, his whole body language was signaling that he was able to grasp the severity of whatever she had to say to him.                        “There is something I need to tell you but you’ll need to sit down, James”.

__ Taglist: @must-be-a-weasley-92​ @megalificent​ @fific7​ @maraudersangel​ @tb-ctn 

[dubstepkazoo]

So I’m playing Hyperdimension Neptunia Re;Birth 2, and it’s pretty good, but...

The translation is doing everything in its power to make me stop having fun.

Good god, the translation is bad. So bad, in fact, that I simply cannot view it as professional work.

Now, to his credit, the translator does approach his job from a perspective I can respect. Rather than give a rote “what does the Japanese say” translation, like so many amateur and professional translators do, he instead asks himself this for each line: “What would be the appropriate English for character X to say in situation Y to get Z point across?” The problem is that not only does he do a terrible job of answering this question, he often gets so carried away that he forgets to ask it in the first place.

See, he commits the same mistake he did in the first game: changing the tone of a line/scene or otherwise misrepresenting what the game’s creators intended. He adds humor where it doesn’t belong, changes jokes into meta-jokes (Underling “hitting the spawn cap” for the Killachines, a guard qualifying his youth in “non-anime years”), and pushes a character’s gimmick farther than even the original Japanese did (Red mentions her “wifeys” more often than she should). He even sometimes changes character dialogue to be a lot more sarcastic, incisive, and biting than it should be. In Chapter 2, after they meet the fake Chika and IF expresses her suspicions of her, Compa is supposed to gently rebuke her for judging a new acquaintance based on preconceived notions. Instead, the translator has her scold IF for holding “Chika” up to “[her] own lofty standards.” That’s WAY too cutting of a statement for Compa to make. If it were Kei, I could believe it, but Compa, everyone’s favorite desu girl, would not say something like that. And she certainly didn’t in the Japanese.

Then there’s Nepgear. Poor, sweet Nepgear. What did the translator do to you, you innocent little creature? She got mangled so far beyond belief that I have to completely ignore her translations - only listening to the Japanese voice clips - if I want to retain any ability to like her. As if changing the other characters’ nicknames for her wasn’t enough - IF calls her “Gear” instead of “Nepgear,” Rom calls her “Miss Nepgear” instead of “Nepgear,” Neptune calls her “Nep Jr.” instead of “Nepgear,” and Compa calls her “Ge-Ge” instead of, say, “Geary” - actually, you know what? No!

In what universe does it make sense for Compa to call her freaking “Ge-Ge?” I can only assume that the translator wanted to mimic “Nep-Nep,” but here’s the thing: there’s a reason why the Japanese didn’t do that. Wanna know why? Because it sounds stupid! Even for Compa! Seriously! “Ge-Ge.” Good god. Just- just call her “Geary.” Why are you so afraid of trusting the developers’ judgment?!

So anyway, as if changing the other characters’ nicknames for her wasn’t enough, the translator decided to give her “modern” and “trendy” dialogue. Everyone else has this to some degree too, but you’ll often see Nepgear use words such as “BFF,” words that fell out of common usage over a decade ago. I know this is a port of a Vita game, but come on. These words were dead even long before the original game came out. And even if they weren’t, adding trendy dialogue is not a good thing. The key to making a good character is to make them timeless - identifiable with anyone, no matter how much time has passed since the game came out. Fad language only points out more heavily - both to contemporary and future players - how dated the game is.

Then there’s that other thing. Yeah, you know the one. You know what Nepgear needed, despite the original developers sensibly not doing it? A catchphrase. Oh my goodness! What the goodness? Goodness! This is pushed extremely hard, to the point where every time I see this word put into Nepgear’s mouth (which is multiple times in nearly every Nepgear scene), it’s all I can do not to slam my headphones down in disgust, storm out of my room, and scream. I wish I was exaggerating. I am ACTUALLY overcome by this urge whenever the translator makes this horrible, infuriating decision. What in the name of all that is chicken made the translator decide that this was anything other than the worst idea ever conceived by man?

See, I understand the temptation to emphasize how pure, innocent, and overall angelic Nepgear is. It is her one defining feature. But there’s something far more important than that: making her relatable. Yeah, this goes back to that “timelessness” thing I was just talking about. Nepgear is the player’s window into the world. The player has to be able to connect to her and self-insert in order to be engaged. That way, Nepgear’s hardships become the player’s hardships, and her triumphs become the player’s triumphs. Just look at Link - people get so invested in his games and worlds, and yet not having a defined personality just so happens to be his most iconic character trait. And the protagonist of literally any Pokemon game: they never say a single word, but the player becomes them. You’re not controlling the character - you are the character.

That’s not to say protagonists need to be silent or devoid of personality in order to be self-insertable and relatable. Look at Sora, from Kingdom Hearts: he connected to the player by remaining optimistic and going on a journey to save his friends, a sentiment easy to sympathize with. As such, the player could have a blast exploring fantastical worlds and fighting imaginative enemies on a grand old quest to fight the powers of darkness. Look at Cecil, from Final Fantasy IV: he was struggling with the discrepancy between his own moral values and his prime authority figure’s actions, prompting him to question his allegiances and life choices. That is an incredibly human struggle! As such, not only could the player identify with him, but the player could simultaneously be impressed by the character’s redemption arc. We could simultaneously be the protagonist and watch him - admire the story from both the inside and the outside.

But in this translation, you can do neither. Giving Nepgear a catchphrase, something real people don’t actually have, only serves to distance her from the player. In the Japanese, Nepgear talks like - get this - a normal human being. She doesn’t overuse “goodness.” She doesn’t talk of “BFFs.” She doesn’t refer to boobs as “boobies” (seriously, what is she, a toddler?). She is a normal girl (well, as normal as a goddess can be) feeling the pressure of standing in her sister’s shadow, yet she still ventures out to save the world, despite her insecurities. She’s a brave, optimistic protagonist with a pure heart. Pretty easy to relate to, don’t you think? Well, too bad. You’re not allowed. Get out of her body, you pervert. You have to stand back and watch from afar as she shoots memes and goodnesses down your throat, whether you like it or not. You’ve got some nerve, thinking you’re allowed to be a participant in this adventure, rather than a spectator.

Oh, and it’s not like other characters get a free pass, either. I get that Ram is a child, but it’s silly to have her call everyone “dummy.” I don’t know what children the translator hangs around, but I at least know that none of the children I know (and I’ve worked at a church’s summer camp, so I know quite a few) don’t call anyone and everyone “dummy.” Also, it’s extremely out of character for her to constantly call Rom stupid. Yes, she’s a bossy, self-centered brat, but she does care for Rom in her own way. It’s why she attacked Underling and the protagonist brigade. Her attitude should be “Rom just doesn’t know better,” not “Rom’s an idiot.” There’s a big difference there, and the translator failed to grasp it.

And returning to the fake Chika, Underling was actually not doing a terrible job of acting as her. The only giveaways were her voice, her lack of knowledge, and her decisions. Still, that was enough to make it obvious to the player that we were actually dealing with everyone’s favorite boss battle. But the translation decided to ham it up and make her slip into her normal speech patterns, despite the Japanese version consistently maintaining Chika’s elegant, refined demeanor. This is less of a “how dare you moment” and more of an “oh, come on” moment, though.

And I’m only just at the beginning of Chapter 5 so far, but I see a dismayingly large amount of the word “heavens” in Vert’s dialogue. This is a little more forgivable because she’s a minor character in this game, but- again, come on.

But you know what the saddest part is? I haven’t even scratched the surface of all the translation’s problems. I haven’t even mentioned how “the Hard” characters are now “CFW” characters, joining “CPU,” “HDD,” and “Arfoire” in the list of “what were they smoking” decisions. I haven’t even mentioned the concert at the end of Chapter 2, which was an abomination of otaku culture references, not only displaying a very shallow understanding of otaku culture (despite the Japanese’s clear understanding), but also inserting words like “otaku,” “moe,” and “tsundere” where they didn’t exist before. I haven’t even mentioned how there are several moments where the translator decides he clearly knows better than the developers and just rewrites lines wholesale, with no regard for the tone or concepts that the original line was going for. I’ve even kept screenshots of the truly abominable bastardizations of all that is holy, naming them with the Japanese line to truly showcase the idiocy of this translator - though one of them I simply named “thereisnogod.png” out of pure, utter despair.

All in all, this translation reeks of an incompetent - probably N3 or lower - translator who thinks he’s the smartest person in the room and can do no wrong. He’s a classic example of the Dunning-Kruger Effect (that’s the one, right?). And if I looked through the credits, I could probably find his name. If he’s credited as anyone other than Alan Smithy, then that would mean he’s proud of his job. He looked at the completed game and said, “Yes. I did good.” I mean, despite this list of grievances, there are a FEW well-done moments, but those are the exception, not the rule.

I’ll close this post out with a confession that I don’t know much about the localization industry. Perhaps some of these bad decisions weren’t the translator’s fault. Maybe someone higher up said, “Give Nepgear a catchphrase” or “add more self-referential humor.” Either way, though, someone is to blame, and whoever this decision-maker is, he has displayed a profound lack of understanding not only of what it means to translate, but also of storytelling in general. Because in the original Japanese, this game’s storytelling is a vast improvement on the first game’s - but that’s a post for another time.