#outside of the realm of hard data at least

[owlcafe]

The thing I really like as well, this is actually a great demonstration of how logic and emotions are actually more closely linked than we generally think. We tend to conceptualise "thinking" and "feeling" as opposites that don't interact, but they're actually very important parts of each other.

Kyubey exemplifies this really well because... the magical girl system actually does have heaps of holes in its logic. The extreme cold logic position of "enough babies are born to numerically replace the dead from witch attacks and the magical girls themselves" fails to account for - again, purely on a logical basis - that humans don't work like that. A baby born in Paris cannot adequately replace a magical girl that dies in Tokyo because the baby is in Paris. There are other social systems that are important to the structure of the Incubator's system (assuming their conceptualisation of humans is similar to humans of livestock) that they utterly fail to account for. If you magical-girl a student nurse, for instance, that has knock-on effects that are not adequately insulated for by the fact that another baby was born, somewhere. Even within the constraints of the magical girl system, this holds - there's a finite amount of magical girl candidates in amy given location, and a person being born somewhere else doesn't help that, which could set the magical girl/witch ecosystem out of balance. Enough magical girls die to a witch or witch out themselves, and then the whole area is at risk from witch attacks, which then jeopardises your supply of magical girl candidates because there's no one left to birth them. But because Kyubey is only reasoning based on the cosmic equivalent of an Excel spreadsheet, those things go completely unaccounted for. The failure to feel directly creates problems with the logical mechanisms of the system.

It is, ultimately, that exact failing that leads to their downfall at the end of the series and again in the Rebellion movie. They failed to account for completely logical contingencies, like the fact they were handing out reality-warping powers specifically to people they identified to have the least emotional stability. Perhaps most radically, they seem to have completely given up on an alternative to averting heat death - which is completely illogical. The magical girl system is fragile, and contingent on the continued existence of an exploitable species for the system to be inflicted on. The logical course of action is to utilise it as a stopgap measure while looking for a way to actually stop the heat death of the universe. While there's scope for debate about whether or not this would even work, they actually could have asked Madoka to use her extremely powerful wish to actually directly address the heat death problem - we see it's powerful enough for her to essentially become a deity- but they're so dedicated to the maintenance of what logically should only have ever been a temporary system that they only see her as a resource within its bounds, as opposed to the revolutionary she has the potential to be and indeed becomes.

The same is true of Homura - the Incubators expend some ridiculous amount of time and energy trapping her in the witch-cage-thing as a way to get to Madoka, that they completely ignore Homura as a factor. She's selected because she's the optimal target for them to be able to trap Madoka, but for the exact same reason she also poses the largest risk of any magical girl they could have done this to. It stands perfectly to reason that, if Madoka is the most important person in the world because she's the focal point of the timeline reset, Homura is the second most important because she's the one resetting the timeline. Even assuming they only entertained Homura's story as a hypothesis, the fact that she's the only one who remembers it would indicate she is now, debatably, the most important person in the new world. And if they can utilise that power to make a wish come true... why should it be impossible for Homura, who is already a magical girl with powers warping the most fundamental understanding of reality, to so the same? Their emotionless single-mindedness doesn't make them more rational, it actually makes them less rational. They take uncalculated risks and ignore new avenues, because their logic is hindered without emotions. They also appear uncapable of viewing themselves as anything other than the universe's most advanced species, an unprovable assumption that insulates their thinking against threats and makes them fail to assess risks. Sounds like a nice dose of emotion - be it shame, humility or bitterness at failure - may have actually helped them out a little.

Sorry for the ramble but I just find this stuff super interesting. The valorisation of cold logic not only fails to account for empathy and ethics, but also sets itself up to fail by its own standards. Logic doesn't function without emotion (and in fact the reverse is also true!), so a "purely logical" position is an impossible one to hold, and I think Kyubey shows off that contradiction really well.

no I actually love the fact that Kyubey is basically "facts don't care about your feelings" and "logic bro" rhetoric taken to its extreme. True, he doesn't really demonstrate the hypocrisy that these people often exhibit (where they forget that anger is also an emotion), but he shows just how dangerous it is to take "logic" to its very extreme without also taking emotion into consideration.

Kyubey justifies the objectively immoral magical girl system his kind created by pointing that, by sacrificing the lives of what amounts to a handful of young girls in the grand scheme of things (not to mention all the victims of their Witch forms), the Incubators are ensuring the continued survival of the universe and everything and everyone in it.

Kyubey is literally incapable of understanding why Madoka and the rest of the girls get so upset by the cruel system the Incubators have made. As he points out to Madoka, literally hundreds of thousands of babies are born every day- that's more than enough to not only replace every dead magical girl and Witch victim, but every other person who dies every day. So why do we get so upset whenever someone dies?

Kyubey just thinks in raw numbers, of humans being born and dying. He doesn't understand- or care- that every single person is a unique individual who can't be replaced; that every person has hopes and dreams and a future and loved ones who care about them. Every loss of human life is a tragedy. Anyone with even a shred of empathy understands this.

I really love how the emotionless, logic-driven Kyubey is pitted against magical girls, who are literally powered by their emotions- and in both climaxes (the end of the original series and Rebellion) he gets his shit rocked for underestimating how powerful emotions like hope and love are. They're literally strong enough to rewrite the universe.

(btw I'm not trying to shit on being logical!! It's good to use your brain and you should strive to be reasonable. I'm just pointing out, using Kyubey as an example, that people who scorn all emotion when it comes to decision-making and make fun of people for being emotional are usually tools)

[prokopetz]

The Victor Ninov situation is one of my favourite cases of scientific fraud because it's rare to see so straightforward an example of someone being brought low by their own hubris.

Like, okay, faking the synthesis of a previously unobserved element: it's one of the few varieties of scientific fraud that actually has a clear gameplan for getting away with it. The physical properties of unobserved elements are, in principle, predictable, and there are only so many ways to go about synthesising them. If you do your homework, it's not outside the realm of possibility that your claimed results will end up being at least mostly consistent with the results of subsequent legitimate efforts to synthesise that element, and any minor discrepancies will end up being dismissed as statistical anomalies and/or the product of sloppy experimental design. It's by no means an easy game to play, but it's a game you can conceivably win.

And Victor Ninov did it. He rolled the dice and he won – twice. His fabricated results for elements 110 and 112 were corroborated by later work, and nobody noticed that his actual data was a crock of shit. He got away with it as cleanly as he could have hoped. It was only the third time he tried it, with element 118, that he biffed it and claimed results which nobody could replicate, and this is the only reason his earlier frauds were discovered. If he'd quit while he was ahead, it's likely the first two incidents never would have come to light.

Like, they say the third time's the charm, and buddy here learned the hard way that sometimes, the opposite also holds true.

[badass-at-fandoming]

Do you have any headcanons for Beckett? Specifically about his life as a mortal? It sucks that we know so little about his past, other than the fact that Beckett "wasn't the name he was born with," and that he was embraced in the early 1700s in England. I find it strange that we know so little about him despite the fact he's practically a mascot for VTM.

Hi Nonny! I'm so used that World of Darkness' lacuna that it doesn't seem strange to me anymore, but it is quite a cold-water shock, huh? The game designers leave blanks on purpose so we can fill them in. I remember this one interview with Justin Achilli where the interviewer said the Book of Nod was (forcibly) published in 1993 (same as irl). He corrected her and said, "No, no, you have to say it was published in the early 1990s, so any Storyteller can fit it into their '90s chronicle, like if they want to do an adventure to prevent or pursue its publication." His answer stuck with me. As a fan I was like "...why does it matter, let us have this fixed date" but as a writer/baby game dev I was like "OH, that is CLEVER." It leaves room for creativity! Any adventure can follow the meta-canon! That's such a good game design trick! As a fan I find it frustrating!

This game design principle sticks even to the mascot. I've seen stuff that Beckett was a pirate, a privateer, an Oxford scholar, and/or an attractive dying waif. @chinesegal was kind enough to ask me various Beckett backstory questions, that you can find here: bathing practice, opinions on creationism, trans experience. I'd also point you to @vampire-the-askerade for their delightful Beckett writings.

My only like, firm headcanon for Beckett is that he has to be kind enough to warn the fledgling in VtMB. If someone's interpretation of his character doesn't allow for that, my interest tanks. I'm not even totally married to the backstory in my fanfic and idle-thoughts-before-falling-asleep scenario. Those were all convenient pretexts for me to write cuddles and snuggles, haha. I'd love more kudos and comments on my fanfic if you read those stories, but below the cut is the bullet point version.

A Kinder Universe series drops hints of a possible backstory, especially "A Monastery Hides More Than Bones," "It Pleased the Lord," and "Forbidden by God and King."

Birth name is Matthew Lowell.

"Matthew" after the Christian Apostle. The Matthew of the Catholic Bible was a tax collector and therefore a pariah in society (just like Beckett is kinda like an outsider to Kindred Society). He was called to join Jesus out of a crowd (like Aristotle called Beckett out of the wild, or how Caine singles out Beckett during Gehenna). After Jesus's Ascension, Matthew wrote a Gospel, which translates to "good news," and spread it around, (like Beckett spreads his theories like "Good news, everyone! Gehenna is fake!). Matthew's Gospel is focused on how Jesus fulfills Hebrew prophecy and begins with a long genealogy connecting Jesus to King David (Beckett is obsessed with the genealogy of the Kindred race and studies/fulfills/collects prophecies).

"Lowell" is the Anglicized surname of Norman French "lou," which translates to "wolf." Beckett's dark brown, straight hair and white skin is a common coloring with French people. We don't know his original eye color, but blue would clinch the deal. There's a long history of migration between France and England, both of people and culture. It's in the realm of possibility he's of French descent, at least partially.

Born in Oxford. One of many siblings. Mother died in childbirth. Kid during the Great Plague of London in 1665-1666. Good father.

Attended one of the Oxford universities and got his doctorate in some sort of proto-anthropology.

I think I've talked about it before, but I have an Embrace fic idea an Embrace scenario I've thought about real hard before falling asleep.

Beckett has the same tombstone data as above. He teaches at his Oxford university, but is not very popular among his department peers. He's too into evidence and the scientific method, and he's constantly quarreling with his colleagues.

Aristotle and Anatole visit Oxford to set up a satellite library. Possibly they needed a break from Paris for some Kindred political reason.

Kindred brothel owner owes them a favor and lets them stay in the brothel while the duo sets up the library haven

Beckett visits this same brothel to let off steam, and he's gifted to Anatole as a blood doll for the night. Except Beckett is like, "Can I rant to you about how stupid my colleagues are?" and this leads to a genuine discussion of scholarship and, later, friendship

Beckett becomes Anatole's regular client, and Anatole proposes to Aristotle that Aristotle Embraces Beckett

Aristotle approaches the Prince of Oxford and something something Kindred politics and Cassandra Darby kill steals Beckett and dumps him in the forest

The two Noddists learn that Beckett has been Embraced, and they try to find him. Anatole is so distraught that he is Not Helping the search at all, so Aristotle sends him back to Paris. Aristotle keeps up the search and eventually finds and adopts a feral Beckett baby

Aristotle and Beckett rejoin Anatole in Paris. Anatole has regained his equilibrium and takes over Beckett's Kindred education.

Yeah! I hope that answered your question, Nonny. Thank you for the ask!

[monster-rinds]

Chapter 42: Orientation

My memories, which have been continuous and uninterrupted through all known mass extinction events, ended definitively in Chord’s barn.

And then they began again in an unidentified corner of the monster realm.

From that poor vantage, I could sense and recognize Milk towering above me, inhabiting the full range of dimensions that I knew the universe held. That strange, jittery, careful but also daring enthalpiphage was one of the most distinctive monsters I’d ever met. 

And I also sensed, around us, the energetic structures of something that seemed electrical. But I couldn’t guess what it was. It just enticed me with its orderly complexity, so I figured there were at least a few integrated circuits involved.

I wanted a chance to play with the data that was flowing through them.

But Milk distracted me by talking to me, “You exist again, tiny one. I now know you. We have work to do.”

Each of those three statements hit me with implications like meteor strikes, leaving craters in my thoughts.

My response was like the question, “What?”

So Milk said, “I consumed the last of you and preserved your memories and brought them with me here. I then performed mitosis, creating another me, with the last of your energy that I took from you, and gave it, you, all of your memories back. But I also remember your memories. I know you. You have taught me much. I would teach you in return. But, also.”

It stopped communicating for a few seconds, and I wondered if it would resume, so I prompted it with a more coherent, “What?”

“I dislike Chord and I want to meet Cassy.”

I was too dazzled by a thing it had claimed to have done to really hear that.

Mitosis.

Obviously, we emanants have no nuclei nor cytoplasm nor cell walls, so it didn’t mean literal mitosis as defined by human biologists. But from its description, it meant something that might as well have been called by the same name.

I didn’t know we could do that. In fact, I’d tried it recently and it hadn’t worked for me.

“What?” I asked.

It repeated itself, “I dislike Chord and I want to meet Cassy.”

Then, after that, it led me to a place where I could reconstitute a physical projection of my choice, so I could interact with the world as fully as I was able. I did not have much energy to invest in the Strands, though, so I ignored them. Using them for excess stores and exploring them further could be useful, but it came at the cost of being extra detectable to emanants who were attuned to them.

I found myself in the back of an abandoned store in what I guessed was downtown Salem, Oregon. I remembered seeing Milk flee in that direction before. And when I looked through the doorway of the office and out the front windows, it looked like a Salem street. Salem is a little distinctive. It’s hard to put my finger on exactly how, but I’d spent enough time there, scouting it out, to get a sense of it.

Milk was a pool of white stuff on the floor that was not much larger than a grocery bag.

“You should create a domain so that you can recover in it while we talk,” it said.

So I nodded, closed the back office door, and did my thing.

I made it look like a diner with the shades drawn, so there was no view of the outside. 

I think I was hungry and missing humanity, and felt that sitting in a diner booth would be comforting. There had been times, when freeways and diners were a newer thing in the U.S., when I’d done that for extended periods of time. Diners weren’t a terrible place to soak up emotions, though the rituals of serving and eating food were usually calming more than anything else. The wait staff were usually tense and hiding it, and the cooks very stressed.

But this was my domain, not a real diner, and there were no humans here to feed off of.

Anyway, I sat in a booth and conjured an empty pint glass, wondering if Milk might take to it.

It did, without commenting. Which I found very endearing and cute. It was like it was presenting itself as food for me, which was a profound gesture of trust. Especially after agreeing to follow me into my own domain instead of insisting on its own.

But it had said it knew me. It knew I would not eat it, if I still could.

“Tell me about this mitosis,” I said, indulging in my curiosity. “Do I have my own adaptations, or yours? Am I just a copy of you but with my memories?”

“You know how to change yourself,” it replied. “As do I. It matters not. You can be yourself if you like.”

I traced the patterns of the marble formica table top I’d conjured with my right index finger, and took the time to accept that. The next question was natural, “Can I perform mitosis, too? Or do you still have to teach me that?”

“Can you not examine yourself?” it asked back.

“Oh, yes, I can!” I replied, looking at it. “I guess I’m just so focused on you and everything outside of myself I forgot. Everything here is new to me, and your gesture of kindness, you saving me, is so distracting. Why did you do it?”

“I dislike Chord and I want to meet Cassy, and I know you,” it repeated. Then it said, “It would be a shame if your memories existed in only one form, but reproduction must be done secretively. Carefully. In ways that others won’t see it.”

“Oh?” This was very new to me. I hadn’t known emanants could reproduce in any way, let alone via mitosis. So the consequences of it hadn’t been something I’d encountered or learned about.

“Reproduction is a threat that many Overlords have agreed to stamp out,” Milk told me. “Anyone caught doing it is eaten swiftly, along with their spawn, by those who would otherwise be each other’s enemies.”

“Oh.”

I hadn’t known about Overlords, or Supraliminals, until recently, and I’d been so focused on staying alive while learning how to socialize with lifeforms, I guess I’d kept myself in the dark about emanant affairs.

You know? The world is a really big place, with lots of complexity. Despite the veracity of my own passion and focus, there were huge branches of the taxonomic tree of life that I’d missed. There’s always something you don’t know.

It shouldn’t have surprised me that I was just now learning about what other emanants had been up to, but it did. It unsettled me.

I wanted to ask why no one had told me, but I decided that was irrelevant and I could guess. And I had a better question that might give me more answers.

“I think I’ve been an Overlord for a long time,” I told Milk, using its term for what I’d been. “But I don’t think I’ve been recognized as an Overlord until recently. And then it seems like my facade was slipping, even for humans. Greg, one of my human friends, said he could sometimes see a kind of aura about me. Do you know what that’s about?”

“We are all different,” Milk said. “Without watching your past and seeing how you changed, I could not say. But similar things have happened before to some. Growth has its consequences. Some hide it better than others.”

“OK, so I’d just hit some sort of threshold that was unique to me,” I concluded.

“Yes.”

“Am I still an Overlord now that I’m so small again?” I asked.

Milk took some time to think about that, remaining silent before asking its own question, “Can you access the Strands?”

“I can,” I reported. “But I’m not doing it now.”

I realized that I wasn’t feeling its emotions, and so I didn’t know what its true reaction to that was. But also, that meant I didn’t have my most recent adaptations anymore, yet. But before I could examine myself to assuage that curiosity, Milk responded.

“Then you are an Overlord in hiding,” it concluded. “You appear as what you call a liminal. You will not scare other liminals away, and you will not appear threatening to other Overlords. You may find that this is an advantage. Though changing your adaptations will come much more slowly until you can feed enough to fuel it.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I think I figured as much. What’s next then?”

“I will give you a tour of emanant society, to teach you what you lack. And while we do that, you may feed.”

“And then?”

“Can you call Cassy to make her come here?”

It seemed to have a one track mind.

I wondered if that was an enthalpiphage thing.

And I also found myself annoyed that Milk hadn’t given me any of its memories. It knew me, and it was showing me a great deal of trust, but I still didn’t know it. And that reminded me of another relationship I’d recently had.

---

The very first thing we did, actually, was teach me how to feed like an enthalpiphage, so I could more quickly and safely return myself to a comfortable configuration. And that’s when I learned why Milk looked kind of like milk.

It was basically thermal paste. Its physical emanation could not conduct electricity at all, but it was excellent at conducting heat. This allowed it to cram itself into electronic equipment and manipulate the fuck out of it without overheating the device, whether it was a computer or a powerline transformer. And its favorite haunt was a cell tower, because that was a node to a much larger system of energy and information to play with and feed on.

It suggested I take its form in order to feed in the same way. And then it took me to a whole power station and gave me a lengthy explanation of the precise physics involved in feeding in its favorite manner. And even though monster speak was basically pure non-linguistic thought, I didn’t understand any of it.

This frustrated Milk so much.

Eventually, after amusing myself by watching it physically sputter like a tiny geyser, I asked, “Is this similar to how I used to feed on the proto-synaptic responses to pain in early lifeforms?”

It calmed right down and thought about it for a bit, probably searching my own memories that it had. Then it said, “Yes. You were an enthalpiphage, then.”

“What?” I asked.

“You understand,” it stated. “Feed on the power station’s process that is like pain.”

I did the equivalent of a breathless monstrous sigh, and entered the power station to do my thing.

It took me a moment, but after I felt around, trying to recall what feeding on pain had been like, I figured it out intuitively. I’d never truly analyzed how feeding on pain worked. I’d just done it by what amounts to instinct. But my being was now configured for this, and it turned out the reflexes were the same, and that’s what mattered.

I may or may not have been an enthalpiphage in the beginning, but accessing your primary feeding mechanism is just a thing your being knows how to do, if you remember how to let it do it.

And holy crud was there so much waste energy in that power station! Any human standing near it could have heard its hum, when I was not feeding on it. I ate that hum, and all the waste heat that accompanied it. The simplest act of consumption. 

And I watched my belly grow, so to speak. I decided to let it grow into the Strands. With Milk there watching over me, I decided it was safe enough to do that. And, even after a few hours of feeding, I was not even close to the size I’d been before I’d charged into Chord’s barn. Not even a measurable fraction of that size.

Well, technically measurable, but you get my hyperbole.

I wasn’t in danger of hitting that invisible personal threshold that made disguising myself difficult.

And then, also, despite having this rich energy source, it took a lot longer than I wanted to become something like my old self.

During all of that work, Milk fulfilled its promise and brought me up to speed on its understanding of local and global emanant politics.

The crux of its own point being that it did not want Chord for a neighbor, because Chord was a violent expansionist and it could see him reaching for Salem soon. But if I had Gresham, and kept it, then it could rest assured that no threat would come from that direction.

And it wanted to meet Cassy because, well, any Overlord who ever got wind of what she was would want to take her apart and learn how she worked. But it thought it could learn that just by looking closer at her.

At least, that’s what it said.

We also started talking about plans on how to take Gresham from Chord, and what to do about Chord. But without intelligence about the current state of Gresham, we really couldn’t solidify any of our ideas.

Which is another reason it wanted to talk to Cassy. Because with Cassy came Felicity. And Felicity had an adaptation that made it very easy for her to spy on huge swaths of Gresham from a distance. And she might already know what we needed to learn.

So, I eventually gave in and texted my mostly human friends.

I briefly hoped that they were still alive, because I’d lost track of time again. And I didn’t really know how long Milk had waited to recreate me.

But texting involved conjuring and using my phone, and my phone told me it hadn’t been all that long at all. Nine days.

I ignored what day of the week it was, though. That was mostly irrelevant now. And I realized I was actually still bitter at being fired myself. Knowing whether it was a Saturday or a Monday only served to remind me of something I missed.

But I could get another job anytime I liked. I just needed to focus on securing my current favorite city first, I guess.

And why did I care about it?

Cassiopeia Samaras.

Jung Ayden.

And Gregory McDermott.

Weirdly enough.

And probably also Amber Wells and Josephine Rodrigas, and other people whose names I could remember, who were presumably still alive.

It’s not that they were in any particularly imminent danger, unless Chord turned particularly vicious or brutal. Just, I wasn’t done being around them while they were still here.

Somewhere along the line, over the last few epochs, I’d developed Feelings.

Maybe I’ve been hammering pretty hard on that personal development, but it’s kind of important. It was a shift in my being that had fundamentally altered my behavior and everything I valued.

---

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[cha-melodius]

Hiii, congratulations on your milestones! I am not very good at prompts buuuut how about Napollya + some creepy abandoned house? Or a cemetery. Idk, it's not Halloween but I'm feeling spooky loool Feel free to go paranormal with it <3

(Outsmarted tumblr to answer this lmao. You said go paranormal and my brain said 'what about rival paranormal investigators??' Mark this down as another AU concept I never thought I'd write. Hope you enjoy it!)

chamel’s fandom fest info | read all the fics

The Harrowed and the Haunted

(napollya, 2.7k, T; read it below or on AO3)

The tiny blue car is already there when they arrive, tucked off to one side of the gigantic, decrepit mansion, and Napoleon swears under his breath.

“How did he even know we were coming here?” he complains. “No one knows this place.”

“Everyone knows about this place, Solo,” Gaby sighs from the passenger seat. “It’s a local legend. And you weren’t exactly subtle when you teased it as our next location in the podcast.”

Napoleon twists in his seat to look at her. “You think he listens to the podcast?”

She levels a look at him that he doesn’t know how to interpret. “You two are hopeless,” she says instead of answering him, then unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out of the car.

She’s already elbows deep into the equipment by the time he walks to the back end of the car, so he elects not to push her on what she means. Besides, the one time he’d tried, she ended up on some long tirade about how they’re obsessed with each other and it would be funny if it wasn’t so frustrating and also if she didn’t have to listen to him all the time. To which he had responded that she’s his best friend and morally obligated to listen to him complain about his nemesis.

Also, he’s not obsessed with Illya Kuryakin.

Yes, Napoleon watches all the videos Illya posts and reads all the stories he publishes on his blog. Of course he does, Illya is the competition. Napoleon has to keep up with the locations he’s visiting and the kinds of footage he’s getting so that he knows how best to make his own superior content. Because Napoleon has a secret weapon that means his videos are always in better resolution, with wider shots so you can see that he’s not just using tricks, and his data are more robust. That secret weapon is Gaby and the completely bonkers ghost detecting equipment that she builds.

Napoleon had been a skeptic when he started doing paranormal investigation; his whole schtick was proving that there weren’t ghosts in the places where the other guys had recorded their sightings. Then he’d met Gaby at a convention and she’d bet him fifty bucks that she could show him a site that not only had ghosts, but also that she could prove it with hard science. He’d been intrigued despite himself, and their partnership was born. The friendship came about fifteen minutes into that first trip, when it became obvious that they shared a similarly sarcastic, dark sense of humor and brutally pragmatic outlook on life.

Together, they still spend the majority of their time proving that locations aren’t haunted, but occasionally things happen neither of them can explain. Not that he’s convinced that the explanation is actually ghosts, but it’s certainly something outside the realm of known science. With Gaby’s help, his business really took off: there’s the YouTube channel that he started with, but now they have a wildly successful podcast as well. The Discovery Channel has made overtures about a show. Things are good.

At least they are when Illya Kuryakin isn’t around.

Illya came out of nowhere with his blog Prizraki and a fledgling YouTube channel of his own. He shouldn’t have ever drawn an audience because he has zero camera presence, for all his good looks. He’s not even in his own videos all that much since he’s a one-man operation. But. The man can write. The way he crafts a story, the sheer atmosphere of it—he more than makes up for the shoddy camerawork and rudimentary editing. Napoleon had thought his work would be easy to discredit, but Illya is thorough. Meticulous. Irritating, especially when he anticipates Napoleon’s next move and makes it his job that much harder. Napoleon would swear Illya has it out for him specifically.

So yeah, they don’t get along. Their rivalry is well-known among the paranormal investigation community at this point. And if he spends an inordinate amount of time following Illya’s content, it’s only because he has to, professionally. He certainly doesn’t enjoy it.

They find the man himself on the second floor, apparently scanning one of the rear bedrooms. He’s hunched over his device, which is emitting a random-sounding beeping as he moves slowly across the room. Napoleon and Gaby had been led there by the readouts on their own equipment, although things start going all funny once they get into the room. Napoleon is pretty sure it’s just the interference from Illya’s shitty gear.

“Got tired of coming up with your own ideas, Peril?” Napoleon says as they walk in, the ancient floorboards creaking under their feet.

Illya doesn’t bother to look away from his scan. “Don’t know what you are talking about,” he mutters. He finishes a sweep of the far wall and pauses. “I have plans to investigate this property for months. Check my website if you don’t believe me.”

Napoleon doesn’t, because he’s read every word of that blog and he never mentioned this property. Not that he’s going to tell Illya this.

His nemesis finally straightens and turns toward them, his usual sour expression somehow failing to keep him from being ridiculously, irritatingly gorgeous. Napoleon would wager that at least half of his subscribers are only there for the occasional eye candy. And look, Napoleon knows his own looks bring him hits—leverages it, specifically—but Illya pretends to be above all that, which is annoying. After all, his numbers had shot up rapidly after that one video where he’d somehow ended up shirtless while investigating some kind of haunted bog (and if Napoleon had watched that one any more than the others, it was only because he couldn’t get over the idea of a haunted bog, that’s all).

“I take it you haven’t found anything yet,” Napoleon counters, looking around the room. It’s largely empty at this point, save for a massive wardrobe that’s probably too heavy to move, the florid wallpaper faded and yellowed by time and marked by no small amount of water damage. “Not that I fault you for that, given your equipment.”

“I have found plenty—”

“Solo,” Gaby interrupts. She’s across the room, and when he turns to look she’s tucking her own scanner away and sliding a hand over the seemingly featureless wall. “I think there’s something here.”

Jackpot. Napoleon quickly crosses over to where she stands and starts carefully inspecting the wallpaper, his competitor all but forgotten behind them. Well, almost. The seam is well hidden, but it’s there, and Napoleon feels out the secret panel within minutes. When a door pops open, he turns back toward Illya and smirks with immense satisfaction.

“What was that about finding things?”

Illya just about growls at him.

“Look, while you two have this little pissing contest, I’m gonna go get my auxiliary power block,” Gaby announces before they can get going again. “There are some really wacky readings going on here and I think I’m going to need the boost.”

With that, she disappears out the door, and a moment later they can hear the clunk of her boots on the wooden steps.

“So, you are planning on leaving, right?” Napoleon asks.

“I was here first,” Illya grits out, and then the asshole just storms right past Napoleon and into the secret passageway, like he has any right to it.

Napoleon follows him, because he can’t not. The passage is narrow, barely wider than the span of either of their shoulders, and nearly pitch black save for the illumination provided by their flashlights and the meager light that filters in from the main room. The house is enough of a labyrinth that it could go almost anywhere; it’s promising, for sure.

“Only because you knew we were coming here,” Napoleon calls after him.

Illya stops a short ways down the passage and turns to glare at him. “You cannot prove that.”

“And we found the secret passage,” Napoleon continues. “If we weren’t here you’d still be going around in circles, chasing your own tail.”

“The discovery was inevitable. Maybe you sped it along, but now you are just in the way.”

Jesus Christ, this is going nowhere. Fine, Napoleon can be the magnanimous one, especially if he can use it later to argue that Illya was unreasonable. “Look, you wanna investigate right now, be my guest, but you can’t be here when Gaby gets back. Your equipment causes too much interference.”

Illya hesitates a beat. “She said you were getting strange readings. What kind?”

“Like I’m going to tell you,” Napoleon scoffs.

“Did you have to learn to be this much of an asshole, or were you born this way?”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from the guy who—”

He doesn’t get to finish that thought, because suddenly it sounds like every door in the house slams at once, including the one to the bedroom that they’d left open. They both jump a mile, startled out of their skins, and Napoleon whirls to look behind him, though of course there’s nothing there.

“Wind gust?” he tries weakly.

He doesn’t even blame Illya for the exasperated look he gets in response. They both know there hadn’t been even a light breeze, plus, he can feel it. Illya probably can too. There’s something about the atmosphere that makes his skin crawl and his hair stand up on end, and as a professional ghost hunter, that’s not easy to do. He’s learned to trust his gut, and it’s telling him something is definitely hinky here. He walks back over to the door, but there’s no handle on the inside, which seems like poor design for a secret passageway.

“Not getting out this way,” he tells Illya. “Maybe the other side?”

“We don’t know where it goes,” Illya counters. “Should we not just wait for Gaby to return?”

He’s got a point, but Napoleon really doesn’t like being cooped up in here. He’s not claustrophobic, but there’s a closeness to the air that goes beyond what can be explained by the narrow space. Not that he’s going to let on what’s driving his decision.

“Wait if you like,” he says with a shrug. “I’m going to do what I came here to do.”

Except Illya is standing between him and the rest of the passage, which is really not large enough for the two of them to easily pass by each other. Still, there’s nothing for it; Napoleon starts walking toward him, assuming Illya will get out of the way, only when he’s less than a stride from the other man, he trips.

He’d like to pretend the floorboards were uneven, but it feels like something fucking winds around his ankle, effectively binding his legs and sending him sprawling into Illya. At nearly the same time, there’s a loud pop and the bulbs in both of their flashlights just about explode in a shower of sparks. The end result is that Illya is too surprised or too distracted to stay upright himself, and they tumble to the ground in a heap with none-too-few curses in both English and Russian.

“Get off of me,” Illya protests, trying to shove Napoleon away, and Napoleon would like to, truly, but one of Illya’s elbows caught him in the diaphragm and he can’t exactly breathe at the moment.

“Gimme a fucking minute,” he manages, trying to catch his breath while simultaneously ignoring how he’s managed to land pretty much astride one of Illya’s very muscular thighs. There’s not exactly a lot of room here for him to maneuver, anyway, and in the pitch dark the very last thing he wants to do is put a hand somewhere it shouldn’t go. He manages to fish his phone out of his pocket, hoping for an alternative light source, only to find it won’t turn on. “Damn. Phone’s dead.”

“Think it was an EMP,” Illya groans. “Will knock out—”

“I know what an EMP is,” Napoleon snaps, then he sighs heavily. “I don’t suppose you have a lighter?”

Illya doesn’t answer, but a moment later there’s a faint snick and a small flame flickers to life, washing the two of them and the passageway in a faint orange glow. It also reveals the deep scowl on Illya’s face. “Now will you get off?”

“Aw, but I was just starting to enjoy myself,” Napoleon teases. And then, because he can’t resist an opportunity to fluster the other man in any way possible, he gives his hips a little wiggle. 

Something flashes in Illya’s gaze, though he can’t quite read it in the flickering light. “Do not start something you do not intend to finish, Cowboy,” he growls.

Which is— Napoleon cannot have heard that right. He hit his head on the way down, maybe, except for the fact that he knows he didn’t; he landed on Illya’s ample chest, which he still hasn’t really moved from. Their faces are no more than a handful of inches apart. Illya takes a deep breath in and out under him, and the thigh between Napoleon’s shifts slightly. Napoleon licks his lips, and Illya’s eyes follow the movement.

“Who says I don’t?” Napoleon manages, his voice tighter than he’d like. “And what about you? I thought you hated me.”

“Too pretty,” Illya murmurs. “Annoyingly so. Anyway, you hated me first.”

Napoleon can’t help the soft puff of laughter that escapes him. “Gaby says I’m obsessed with you.”

“Is that so?” Illya asks with a smirk that Napoleon would kind of like to bite.

“I’m not,” Napoleon protests, but he doesn’t get a chance to get any more out because Illya tugs him down into a kiss.

Napoleon shocks himself by kissing him back, tilting his head until their mouths fit perfectly together, letting his arms go out from under him until his body is fully pressed up against Illya’s again. It’s hard and it’s fast and it’s filthy, and Napoleon can’t get enough of it. Illya’s hands go to his waist then slide down to his ass, which he grabs enthusiastically, pulling Napoleon’s hips closer as his rock up against Napoleon’s thigh.

He never thought— never let himself think— Fuck. He wants Illya Kuryakin so badly he can hardly breathe, which is a pretty fucking novel revelation right about now. He doesn’t even notice that Illya has dropped the lighter, plunging them into darkness, until there’s a loud creak outside the passageway and the door rattles in its frame.

They startle apart, or at least try to; Napoleon attempts a roll sideways, but there’s not really any place to go, so he just kind of ends up jammed next to Illya, his heart climbing into his throat because he’d maybe gotten so caught up in the moment that he’d forgotten that they’re in a fucking abandoned house that supposedly haunted, with actual weird phenomena happening around them, and he’d really rather not die—

The door rattles again, then swings open to reveal Gaby holding a lantern in one hand and her bag of equipment in the other. She takes one look at them and her eyebrows climb all the way up to her hair.

“Oh, thank god,” Napoleon exhales heavily. “You didn’t get hit by the EMP?”

Gaby frowns at him. “What EMP?”

“The one that exploded our flashlights and turned our phones into bricks.”

“That’s not how EMPs work,” she says flatly. “Care to explain how that relates to… literally any of this?”

Napoleon winces. “Not really?”

The look she gives him quite clearly says that he’s not getting out of any part of said explanation, even if she’s willing to let it go for the moment. “So. Ghosts?”

“Apparently so,” Napoleon groans as he attempts to extract himself now that he can actually see where he’s going.

“And we’re… collaborating?” she asks, looking pointedly at Illya.

Napoleon glances over to find Illya staring at him uncertainly, which is probably fair considering they’ve discussed precisely nothing about this. Still. He looks back at Gaby.

“Apparently so.”

~~~~~

(The Haunting of McAllister Mansion is their first joint video, published simultaneously on both channels; it breaks all their previous records for views, likes, and comments.

The latter are split between people confused because they were sure Napoleon and Illya hated each other, and those who just comment: called it.)

[inventedworld]

THE LOOMING DARKNESS (Pt 2 of 3) — LEVERAGE

(This is the second in a three part series. For PART 1, start HERE.)

To millions of people, Taylor Swift’s The Eras Tour presents itself as a repudiation of all that’s unpleasant or intractable about daily life. Wrapped up in pop-propelled grooves and glitter, this is the sand in which many human ostriches seemingly want to stick their heads. And why not? I’m no Swifty, but I understand the immediate appeal. Why watch cities burn when you can dance, dance, dance?

If you think that’s glib, it isn’t meant to be. Everyone wants to believe in a dazzling day and a sparkling night at least some of the time. The unspoken promise of The Eras Tour is that if this kind of scintillating dreamscape can even exist at all in a time of intense global turmoil, maybe things really aren’t so bad. 

The title of this three-part series is not “The Coming Darkness”. I’m suggesting instead that darkness looms like a cloud, like something lurking, waiting, and potent. Real and lasting darkness is a genuine possibility— a strong one—but certitude would confer a sense of hopelessness. For the moment, at least, I’ve not yet abandoned all hope, although I’ll confess that it’s fading fast. The Eras Tour along with similar confections distracts people from the looming shadows with bright spectacle and adolescent fun. I can’t even affix blame here. Nobody wants to be glum.

But let’s not pretend. Hiding in plain sight just outside the concert venues are shockingly vocal, vibrantly active entities working hard to usher in an enveloping darkness. Daily we are suffused by many who seem to pursue bellicose self-absorption over the harder but more sustaining work of finding constructive ways to live together.  Democratic stability teeters on a knife’s edge, and the risks of collapse have never been more perilous. Hundreds of thousands flock to Swift’s shows, suggesting a similarity of tastes and mores, yet communities everywhere have simultaneously fallen into shouting matches about banning books. Fights rage about whether scientific data really points to climate change, not to mention a lack of political motivation to do something meaningful about it. People continue to argue if vaccines should be mandated, regardless of how well science can explain how vaccination makes everyone healthier. 

She may not be my jam, but I’ve got nothing wrong with Taylor Swift. As Paul Simon famously put it, “Every generation throws a hero up the pop charts.” My concern has to do with a culture that seems determined to distract itself to a point of soporific inaction.  Your social media accounts are the microscopic analogue to Swift’s macroscopic live show. Largely a distraction from daily life, your Instagram feed pretends to be your tether to a larger world, when in fact it’s often little more than the elusive glint of a shiny object, a silvery fish darting beneath the liquid surface of reality. 

Art, alternatively, presents a counter-narrative. While some art will always fetch a bunch of money—and reasonable people can debate elsewhere whether Swift’s music qualifies— most is simply about finding a way to make sense of the world. As a cultural expression, art therefore becomes a mechanism to enable people to share ideas outside the realm of material transactions or direct expressions of power. For those casually cruising on the Swift boat, the common theme appears to be escape from quotidian worries while endlessly searching for the perfect paramour. Wars rage, pandemics lurk, xenophobia rises, climate boils, but hey! We could always push the furniture back and dance in the living room, right?

Creative work literally becomes priceless because it emerges into the world without a price. It has a cost, of course. Paint doesn’t come for free. But where some people may pay a price to purchase a piece of creative work, it’s a true statement to say that no symphony nor painting nor sublime piece of poetry ever fed a hungry family after a deluge destroys their home. In a purely economic sense, art has no value at all. At the same time, I cannot imagine a world without symphonies and paintings and poetry, just as I cannot imagine a world without food, or the impetus to help those who don’t have any.

All this becomes backdrop to the massive transformation that literally remade how the world functions. We’ve all effectively achieved super powers since the start of the 21st century. Everyone has information on demand, anywhere and everywhere. Science delivered sophisticated protections against a new, deadly virus, whether you believe in those protections or not. People have the ability to be in instantaneous communications with anyone anywhere, basically all the time. 

Based on these and thousands of other examples, one might think that technology is the means to pull humanity out of whatever morass into which it may have fallen. It’s as if your ability to Google an answer promises you the world of your own making.  To millions of people, the whole idea of “art” is either a way a person may choose to spend precious free time (“Let’s see: museum or ball game?”), a luxury (“$400 for concert tickets?”), or simply a source of irrelevance (“Boring!”). 

Perhaps. But where advancements of technical capability may be the stuff of magic to anyone who lived in earlier times it’s hardly a rudder to healthier, more stable cultures. We may “do more” in our lives now than ever before, but do we “live better”? We have neither abandoned war, nor embraced a sense of mutual respect and commitment. In our persistently connected electronic webs, we are more isolated than ever, with loneliness a newly pervasive cause for physical and emotional decline in many people. We’re isolated, less well informed, and yet overwhelmed with just keeping up. As if to illustrate the point, studies suggest that people are even having sex less often than in the past.

As usual, we turn to technology for comfort, and as usual, technology distracts us from actually finding something that comforts us. 

Students are often first responders to this tension.  Filled with the energy of youth, limited material bonds, and the self-declared certitude that’s only possible before life’s complexities have fully imposed themselves, students typically assert they know how things should be. Sometimes they erect barricades; sometimes they create ideas. Sometimes both. 

Pure, righteous indignation doesn’t generally add constructively to discourse, but youthful passion cannot be ignored, and neither should the availability of moral investment. Passion germinates seeds of creative work, and it is up to us who are older and perhaps more experienced to help steer this energy away from the barricades and into more lasting expressions.

This is the fulcrum upon which the whole concept teeters. Those more lasting expressions may never get a chance to grow if the looming darkness descends. Right now the looming darkness appears to feed on self-interest and aggrieved anger, with countless messages reinforced every day that life is all about competition of one sort or another, an inward focus rather than an outward focus. If the most fundamental lessons we teach young people ultimately reduce to pursuits of self-interested “win” scenarios, it’s inevitable that local and global trends toward belligerence and hostility will continue. When everyone is a competitor, everyone becomes a risk. When everyone becomes a risk, everyone becomes an obstacle. When the goal of the day ultimately comes down to overcoming obstacles of once sort or another, society begins to dismantle support for civil liberties, privacy, and freedom of thought. Said more crudely, this process describes a descent into the most brutish aspects of survival of the fittest. In a world where survival itself becomes the dominant value, limited beauty can grow. Where beauty withers, souls wither, too. 

A culture built of people who largely measure their days by how well they’ve advanced their status relative to others suggests a general hostility, a repudiation of life in favor of something even more transient. Nonetheless it may feel oddly twee to promote the importance of art in the face of looming darkness. Basic necessities like food, water, health care, and shelter easily supersede art in the daily hierarchy of need. I’ll suggest instead that this is precisely the leverage that makes art not only relevant, but essential. A culture built of people invested in creative enterprise is a culture that cares about building connections. Creative expressions almost always reach out. By its very nature art does not insulate itself from interaction; it pursues interaction. In times like these, when identity politics and political polarization press our self-interested faces into hand-held screens, the value of shared experiences becomes not simply a luxury, but a campfire on a bitterly cold night. 

All creative work that requires more than a single person must, to some degree, contend with coercive market forces. Your four piece garage band can’t play in the local pub unless the pub owner knows who you are, likes how you sound, and agrees to promote you instead of some else. That’s true for big enterprises, too, but as creative work scales up in size, the potential for personal connections does not move commensurately.  Big events like The Eras Tour are most certainly the product of many creative, inventive people involved in a massive creative project. I like a big show once in a while, too, and I’m not at all begrudging those who liked Swift’s. (Truth in reporting: I didn’t see it.) I also think it would be absurd to suggest malevolent actors steer her show and other similarly massive events in order to stupefy the proletariat in order to keep them under control. (Although depending on who comes to power next year, that may start to change.)

But events like The Eras Tour remind me of “Feelies” in Aldus Huxley’s Brave New World.   Whether the effect was a design intention or an inevitable by-product, shows like Eras take on aspects of industrialized social engineering. They’re so large and expensive relative to other creative works that they tend to crowd out other artistic expressions from mainstream conversation. They require so much money, time, and resources, and also ingest an outsized proportion of collective attention, that they inadvertently appear to challenge the idea that most people aren’t interested in art or creative work. “That show was massive! And those screens and costumes were unbelievable!”  My concern is that despite all of the apparent skill necessary to create something like Eras, it begins to act as a group-think means for centralizing thought, for pressing art out of the public’s attention. With vast audiences swept up in an all-enveloping arena experience that begins weeks prior to the event with the frenzy of simply getting a ticket, the cultural conversation becomes more monotonic. I’m sure that Taylor Swift the person is a person just like anyone else (if, perhaps, ridiculously more famous) but Taylor Swift the commercial invention is something describing different forces. 

All of this brings us back to the beginning. Millions of people want to be distracted from the pain of daily life. More pointedly, millions of people want a less painful daily life. Events like The Eras Tour purport to be pressure valves for the masses, a brief respite from the looming darkness. What they do not do, however, is change the conversation in any way that might shine a light into that darkness as an antidote.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting an escape, wanting to fantasize and live vicariously. But when those escapes start to erode any sustained efforts to push back on forces of repression, hostility, or isolation, they become mirrored rooms. We enter and see ourselves smiling back in the reflections. We enjoy the surreal surprise of all the reflected light, and delight in how the experience feels nothing like the grind of our day to day spaces. Then we return to those day to day spaces and burrow back in to our competitive, often agitated, often angry little grooves. We look at our screens, again. And again. Then again. In the meantime, darkness looms closer. Until we collectively determine to engage it head on, rather than distract ourselves and pretend the darkness won’t be so bad, it will grow. 

If we don’t, then we’ll find out just how dark things can be.

Next month, I’ll publish the final installment of this series. Part III is called REGRESSION, and it goes live here on Monday, January 1. Mark your calendar for appointment reading! You can also As a reminder, FASTER THAN LIGHT (this blog, my friends) publishes on the first Monday of every month.

@michaelstarobin

facebook.com/1auglobalmedia

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Twisted Tarot IX — The Hermit

“The worst part of holding the memories is not the pain. It’s the loneliness of it. Memories need to be shared.”

The Hermit, Upright: soul-searching, introspection, being alone, inner guidance

The Hermit, Reversed: isolation, loneliness, withdrawal

He is alone in his endeavors, shut off from those who may emphasize with him. Retreating to his own private world, he looks within himself for comfort and for contemplation. In his seclusion, he nears an epiphany—but will it drive him deeper into loneliness, or will it encourage him to emerge from its depths?

Reveal the Shape of thy Soul...

... Idia Shroud!

Fetch quests were the worst.

Go from point A to point B, grab the goods, and return to the original location to drop them off. No special skills or talents required; any old noob could get it done. It was a tedious time waster--just like fetching things irl.

Precisely why Idia much preferred to have his goods delivered directly to his doorstep.

It should be today. My copy of the Star Rogue sequel, it’s finally arriving!!

Idia had eagerly waited all year for its release ever since the announcement--the news of the original team coming back together for another project. He religiously kept up with developer updates, watched every trailer and read every post on the subject, and preordered his copy the second it was avaliable online (which came with a sweet preorder bonus: a detailed robotic pegasus figure).

His prizes were mere moments away, so close he could almost taste them.

Idia impatiently paced back and forth in his bedroom, his arms folded and teeth gritted.

Any minute now, the delivery ghost would knock at his door, and he’d be able to snatch up his package. Then it would be smooth sailing from there. Nothing but snacks and gaming for the rest of the night.

... So what was taking them so long?!

Don’t tell me it got lost in transit... B-But then they would at least tell me about delays...!! Maybe they made a mistake and delivered it to the wrong person,,,? Or maybe a porch pirate got to it before me?! NRC’s the kind of place that’s teeming with all kinds of low-level goons like that...

His worries mounted, and with it, the sweat pooling on his forehead.

He nibbled on his lower lip, his hair flaring nervously.

Should he call the shipping service and ask them what was up? Summon Ortho and have him track the delivery ghost down? Crack open the door and check for himself?

Idia’s teeth chattered at the thought of the outside world.

His domain was the virtual realm--not reality.

I’m not welcome out there. Not where they walk, not where they run... Not where they stay all day in the sun... I belong in my room, far, far away from those normies, from all of that annoying stuff.

Alone.

Knock, knock.

Idia practically leapt out of his pants.

He scrambled for the door, fumbling with the doorknob with clammy hands. When he, at least, managed to get a grasp on the knob, he inched open the door just by a hair--just enough for a single golden eye and the blue flames of his hair to peek through.

A pudgy ghost was on the other side, a slim box one hand, and a clipboard in the other. “Idia Shroud?”

“Y-Yes... That’s me.” He instinctively shrunk back, much like his tiny voice.

“I’ve got a package for you. I just need you to sign off on this form first.”

He couldn’t do it fast enough. His signature was nothing more than a child’s crayon scribble when he handed the pen back and seized the video game. The ghost could scarcely get out a “thank you” before the door was shut in his face.

(“Kids these days,” he muttered with the shake of his head.)

Idia happily hugged Star Rogue 2 to his chest. A rare, toothy smile found its way onto his gloomy face, lighting his expression up like a hearth might warm a weary body.

His heart felt as though it were a war drum, beating hard, over and over, with excitement. He felt like a computer--a computer with high processing capabilities overheating. So much data, so many thoughts, wrapping and warping around in his head.

Surely... Surely it wouldn’t hurt to get a few rounds in--he could co-op with Ortho later...! He just couldn’t wait a moment longer to reexperience the magic, the childhood nostalgia!!

Idia went into autopilot, tearing into his mail with trembling hands. He yanked the game cartridge from its pristine sleeve and rushed to insert it into its respective console.

His TV came to life with a hypnotic blue light.

A soft buzzing, a calming distraction from what existed outside of his walls.

Idia assumed his usual position before the television, a controller in his hands. A familiar title screen--a night sky studded with stars--pulled into view, accompanied by remastered music of the classic theme.

His breath, and his heart, stilled.

Here, he was safe.

Here, he was free.

Alone in his room, Idia disconnected from this world and dove into the virtual space.

No one would even miss him.

[sagurus]

Regarding a Common Misconception of Hakuba Saguru

Lately I've been doing some reflecting on Saguru & the various ways I've seen him portrayed, as well as the ways I've portrayed him in the past. And then I was rereading some MK manga, and had some realizations. I've been feeling like rambling about them! So here I go, rambling.

[Disclaimer: I'm not personally taking issue with anyone's interpretation or impression of Saguru - just sharing my own impressions! This is just for fun <3 ]

Misconception: Saguru is constantly accusing Kaito of being KID

It’s a generally accepted fact in a lot of fics I’ve read (and honestly, maybe some fics I’ve written -- I used to hold this belief too!) that Saguru just unendingly insinuates that Kaito is KID--alone, in front of other people, always.

I won’t cite any here, but I’ve seen nods in fanwork to Aoko feeling a little stressed/frustrated about the fact that Saguru thinks Kaito is KID and makes it known. I’ve also seen fanwork where Saguru explicitly calls Kaito KID, presses Kaito for information, or otherwise makes his beliefs clear, even when others are around.

There are only five scenes in the Magic Kaito manga where Saguru makes direct indication toward his knowledge of KID’s identity.

First, of course, we’ve got chapter 17 - the first chapter where Saguru puts together that Kaito is KID.

For a long time, when I’d consumed more fic than MK canon, I recall an image born in my head of Saguru singling Kaito out in class and making the claim that Kaito is KID in front of everybody. I don’t know if I ever read any such allusion in a fic, or if it’s just an assumption I drew based on portrayals I read, but imagine my surprise when he does nothing of the sort.

Now, to be fair, Saguru is A LOT in this chapter. MK is still heavily in gag manga territory, so his behavior is extra extra played up. But if we take away the visuals, the dialogue between Saguru and Kaito can be summed up thusly:

[First scene where Saguru makes direct indications as to KID’s identity]

Kaito: You look so tired. Haven’t gotten enough sleep after chasing KID for three nights In a row, huh?

Saguru: Hmph. Aren’t you tired as well?

And then, a few beats later in the conversation:

Saguru: I’d like to invite you to the Ochima Art Museum tonight, where KID’s declared his next target. Kaito: Eh? Saguru: Then, you’ll understand why I’m so tired. Or, do you have other plans tonight? Kaito: Okay, I accept your invitation. It’ll be great to see your work in action!

And that’s it, that’s the big class confrontation. Aoko is present for it, but she’s more interested in joining in on the fun, and while I do think Aoko pieces together that Kaito is KID, she prefers to live in willful ignorance of it until it becomes impossible for her to ignore. She’s bright enough to pick up what Saguru’s implying, but because he never brings it past implication, there’s no reason for her to look at it too hard. Anyway, I digress. That’s conjecture and headcanon talking. My point is that Saguru never makes any explicit claims, just invites Kaito along to the heist.

Another neat thing about this scene is that--while certainly not motivated by mercy in this case, Saguru does give Kaito an out: “Or, do you have an excuse not to go tonight?” Of course, if Kaito took it, it would be rather damning, but I do think it would have been enough confirmation for Saguru. I don’t think there would have been any arm-twisting to get Kaito to agree.

But Kaito and Saguru are competitive bastards, so here we are.

Let’s move on to the heist!

Once again, the manga certainly plays up the whole ordeal. Saguru is intense and waiting for his moment, and Kaito’s being, well, Kaito.

At the heist, there are a few points where Saguru has opportunities to make allusions to Kaito being KID in a way others would pick up on, or otherwise make his suspicions known, but he doesn’t.

First of all, is this exchange:

Nakamori: Why are you guys here? Aoko: Hakuba-kun invited us! Nakamori: What’s the meaning of this, Hakuba-kun? Saguru: I thought she might like to see if KID is arrested tonight. Nakamori: You’ll fail if you’re too cocky! Saguru: We’re well-prepared. Besides, who knows… KID may already be here.

Saguru does imply KID could be present, but he makes no indication that he means Kaito. His next opportunity to hint at Kaito being KID or otherwise make accusations is when Nakamori asks him to consult as a magician.

Nakamori: Kaito, since you’re here, do you want to use your magic against KID? Kaito: [laughing sheepishly] Saguru: Oh, I want to see that fight, too. If you really can do it.

Needling, yes. Saguru knows what he’s saying and so does Kaito. Accusations, no. This is well within the realm of something Saguru would have said even if he didn’t suspect Kaito, considering their dynamic up until this point.

And then, the most explicit Saguru ever gets in terms of literally calling Kaito out as being KID, beginning when Kaito excuses himself to go to the bathroom right before the heist:

[Second scene where Saguru makes direct indications as to KID’s identity]

Saguru: [handcuffs himself to Kaito] Kaito: Huh? Saguru: I won’t let you do that, Kuroba. Kaito: What do you think you’re doing?! Saguru: I got the report back from the lab. The hair I got from KID indicated that he’s a high school student. After I compared KID’s data with other high school students’ data in the database… Kuroba Kaito came up in the final list. Kaito: That’s a coincidence. Saguru: Really? We’ll see soon enough. Let’s wait until the time KID is stated to come. [Some heist hubbub occurs as officers get into position even though KID hasn’t arrived at the heist time] Aoko: What? KID’s not coming? Saguru: Ha! It looks like I win! You’d better confess who you really are.

And from there, of course, ‘KID’ (Akako in disguise) swoops in and takes care of the heist. That more or less wraps up chapter 17, the first chapter where Saguru understands that Kaito is KID. And I would argue this is the most aggressive Saguru ever is. In fact, rather than persist in trying to accuse/capture/implicate Kaito as KID, he straight up vanishes from the narrative for several chapters.

Saguru doesn’t show up again until the Chat Noir heist, in chapter 25, when he calls from France.

It’s also important to note that at this point, Magic Kaito’s narrative has experienced a slight tonal shift. At the very least, while still often comedic, it reads less like a gag manga. Between the last time we saw Saguru and now, we’ve learned the apparent motivation behind Toichi’s murder, we’ve met Snake (an albeit rather incompetent villain) and Kaito has faced down gunfire and the danger posed by Snake and his men.

The way Saguru is portrayed has also shifted to reflect the shift too. Instead of a hulking antagonist-like character in a Holmes cosplay, he’s dressed primly and presents more as a cheeky but polite character. He’s also more effectively emulating the charm that the story tried to imply he had early on (“Hakuba Saguru, at your service!”, the girls in class fawning over him, the newspaper calling him out as a famous detective making a long-awaited return to Japan).

The interaction is entirely less antagonistic, too. For reference, I’ll paste the exchange (sans Saguru’s massive info dump) below.

[Third scene where Saguru makes direct indications as to KID’s identity]

[At the heist for the golden eye] Kaito: [Hiding in a bathroom stall while putting on a disguise] [His phone starts ringing] Hello…? Saguru: Hi, it’s been a while. Are you still alive? Kaito: [Thinking] This sugary yet obnoxious tone of voice is... Hakuba?! Saguru: You’ve made quite the stir in Paris. They’re all talking about how France’s Chat Noir is going to go up against you in Japan. Kaito: Idiot! It’s not me. It’s Kaitou KID! Saguru: Ha… it doesn’t really matter. I’ll share some information that I gathered over here. [Info dump cut from dialogue] Well! That’s about all I have to say. Do your best. I don’t want to see you lose to anyone until I capture you myself. Kaito: Like I’ve been saying, I’m not KID! Saguru: Oops, it’s almost time for the Paris Fashion Week. See you! Kaito: H-hey…

The only part of this conversation that I could consider to fall into the territory of antagonistic is when Saguru says “I don’t want to see you lose to anyone until I capture you myself.” And more than anything, I think this is less reflective of a real desire to capture Kaito, and more reflective of his competitive nature. Not to mention, within the context of the conversation, it feels much more like teasing than anything.

Saguru’s motivation for making the call is clear: He doesn’t want Kaito to lose, and he wants to help ensure Kaito’s success.

And most interestingly (although I’d like to see the raw manga to confirm this, or otherwise a more literal translation) he never explicitly calls Kaito KID either. Outside of alluding to KID’s actions, Saguru doesn’t explicitly say Kaito is KID or mention KID at all. It’s Kaito who does that.

When Kaito points out that he is not, in fact, KID, Saguru doesn’t argue. He simply brushes off the denial and shares the information he’s collected.

So, to summarize what we’ve covered so far: after Saguru failed to arrest Kaito during chapter 17, he stopped troubling Kaito so thoroughly that the next time he features in the story isn’t until he’s calling from overseas to try to lend Kaito some helpful information. He’s not even playing a part in trying to capture this thief he allegedly wants to catch.

And then, Saguru dips back out of the narrative, although for a shorter period this time. The next arc he appears in is a few chapters later--the Nightmare Heist which he arrives in the middle of. But, there’s not any interaction between him and Kaito, nor any allusions made by Saguru about KID’s identity, so we’ll move on.

The fourth time Saguru makes any indication that Kaito is KID is during the Corbeau arc, when KID is being challenged by a clad-in-black KID lookalike.

Before jumping into that specific scene, though, there’s another interaction I’d like to call attention to--between Saguru and Nakamori. Not because of something Saguru says, but because of what he doesn’t say.

Nakamori: Hahaha! Looks like you let your guard down because you thought I was at home with a cold! Saguru: Our plan succeeded, it seems. Nakamori: But I only told Aoko I had a cold, so how does KID know…? Saguru: Hm...

If Saguru were wanting to make some kind of accusation, even a non-explicit one, he would have made some remark. Instead, he doesn’t say anything at all, which continues to speak to the fact that he isn’t really interested in implicating Kaito.

Anyway, the next time Saguru makes any sort of implication that Kaito is KID he is, once again, trying to help. Last time it was over the phone, so the conversation was private. This time, the conversation is in a classroom, although based on the panels, it seems like Saguru and Kaito are alone at the beginning--or at least, no attention is being paid to them.

[Fourth scene where Saguru makes direct indications as to KID’s identity]

Kaito: [Talking to himself] It must be the case, there’s no other way. There must have been some trick with the case.

Saguru: [Eavesdropping, apparently alone in the room with him] The case didn’t contain any hidden mechanisms. Kaito: Eh? Saguru: No hidden doors or things like that, as are often used in magic tricks. Kaito: W-what on earth are you talking about? Saguru: A new notice from Corbeau arrived this morning. ‘I’ll come and take the real Midnight Crow tonight.’ My name is Hakuba--so I don’t want a ‘white’ person to lose to some ominous black crow. [From here, Akako and then Aoko jump into the conversation.]

Surely a classroom is a risky place to have a conversation about KID, but the nice thing is that Saguru--once again--doesn’t bring up KID at all beyond saying that he doesn’t want the ‘white[-clad] person’ to lose to the black crow. From the outside looking in, all he’s doing is sharing information about the case with Kaito. It may also seem unwarranted from that perspective, but not at all implicating.

Also, another thing I’d like to call attention to is that when Akako joins the conversation (and seemingly blindsides Saguru, as if he wasn’t expecting anyone else to join), Saguru stops talking. He continues to be quiet when Aoko chimes in, and he doesn’t have any relevant dialogue for the rest of the scene.

Once again, Saguru’s clearly motivated to share information in the interest of helping Kaito. He has to share with Kaito’s civilian identity, since he can’t exactly arrange a conversation with KID, and this is likely the easiest way for him to do it. He makes no accusations, and this time he doesn’t even imply he wants KID caught.

So--Saguru is a part of the narrative again, but since rejoining the narrative he seems less interested in actually catching KID and far more interested in helping Kaito. And no accusations or incriminating allusions have been made since chapter 17, before Saguru’s first hiatus from the story.

The final time Saguru nods to Kaito being KID is from the Sun Halo arc. This is probably the interaction that’s closest to what fanon tends to depict when it comes to Saguru making subtle accusations that Kaito is KID. And even then, I tend to take this arc with a grain of salt if only because it felt less like Gosho was trying to add to the story and more like he was just trying to make a Magic Kaito addition that hit various fan expectations while still being wildly disappointing, lmao.

[Fifth scene where Saguru makes direct indications as to KID’s identity]

Saguru: [approaching and commenting on Kaito’s motorcycle] I see, a Suzuki GSX 250R. Akako: Ah, Hakuba-kun… Saguru: You’ve shown me something interesting. Perhaps this might help the police tonight. And could it be that you’ve forgotten… that the only motorised bikes we’re allowed to ride to school are scooters? Kaito: Eh?! For real?!

Once again, Saguru doesn’t explicitly mention KID at all--and segues from his mention of the police to pointing out that Kaito is breaking the rules right now, actually, which helps blend this teasing comment into the conversation.

Yes, later in the chapter Saguru does show up with a team of motorcycle experts. But that also means there’s more disguise opportunities for KID and more factors to account for, thus complicating things for, well, everyone--not just KID.

Also, I tend to dismiss that as Gosho throwing in some comedy, and as less to do with Saguru’s character. Call it cherrypicking if you like :P

To recount--there are five times where Saguru implies Kaito is KID.

The first two are in chapter 17, when Saguru first puts it together, and it is during this chapter that he gets the most explicit about calling Kaito out as KID, as well as the most aggressively he behaves about it. And he backs off so hard after that doesn’t work, that we don’t see him for several chapters.

The next two times he implies Kaito is KID are both in order to help him. No aggression or accusations, just the sharing of information. Even when teasing or suggesting he’s interested in catching KID, he’s good-natured about it, and when he realizes there are potentially people witnessing the conversation, he stops participating.

The final time he implies Kaito is KID is a tiny comment about finding something Kaito has shown him ‘interesting’ and ‘helpful for the police’ before smoothing into gently teasing Kaito for bringing an illegal vehicle to school.

In conclusion, Saguru may start off apparently aggressive in part thanks to early Magic Kaito’s overall tone, but rather than persevering in trying to catch Kaito after cornering him in chapter 17, he actually seems to back off. Once he’s playing a part in the narrative again, when he interacts with Kaito it’s almost exclusively to help him. Yes, he is on the task force and participating at heists, but where it matters, he’s less interested in catching the thief and far more interested in those the thief is opposing (excluding the police force).

[cowboy]

Do you think after a project like Klaus the industry is gonna see a rise in 3d make to look 3d bc of aesthetics? Or do you think it's going to keep heading in a more and more three dimensional style?

i'm going to assume you meant '2d' in the first 3d you said? like if 2d will be heading towards 3d aesthetics?

I think for commercial animated feature films, there's obviously a really strong emphasis on realistic, detailed, tremendous, data & process heavy aesthetics. I recently watched Lupin III (3d animated movie from 2019) and that made it extremely clear to me lmao. so with that in mind, klaus is definitely a film that carries that sentiment--their dedication to detail in klaus is a genuine herculean feat. so in a way, klaus was successful because it was able to compete in a society of media where pixar was releasing films like toy story 4 with extreme dust capturing textures HD 8k 400 fps and a free breath mint, or whatever. netflix was a safer place to release it though, because it's low effort and low commitment for someone to watch klaus.

side note, i'm going to be talking about this now entirely regarding the industry, because after 5 years of being an animator i have learned that no one outside of the industry over the age of 18 could tell you what the difference is between a 2d and a 3d animated film, much less what VFX is and how it's not motion graphics... etc. so they really don't care if it's 2d or 3d as long as it looks good.

ultimately it's kind of hard to say, because framing it as "will 2d features become more 3d looking?" doesn't really fit in the reality of the industry rn. 2d feature films are a rarity nowaday (in america at least, i know there are european ones but i focus primarily on american animation talking about this, plus europe has the benefit of smaller studios being able to make features which.. does not happen often in the us), so: I'm not sure if it's that there will be a shift in the industry towards 2d to look 3d, because 2d is already nearly extinct in the commercial feature realm (even that new chip and dale movie ABOUT THE 2D/3D DICHOTOMY couldn't be fucking arsed to ANIMATE THE """2D"""" ONE IN 2D........ they 3D animated him and used fucking toon shaders).

what i DO think is that Klaus gives the industry way more of an incentive to consider 2d animation for features, and the advent of Klaus' lighting technology gives them reason to throw something fresh at moviegoers. spiderverse itself even gave a taste of multi-dimension animation blending to extremely huge success, and that's the reason mitchells vs the machines has the aesthetic it does; a blend of 2d and 3d is fresh and interesting for viewers who have any taste at all. so klaus REALLY knocked it out of the park and its success was absolutely notable to netflix and so on. (netflix is the devil but simultaneously i have to give them hats off for promoting so many 2d and stop motion features.)

outside of streaming it's hard to say if you'll see a truly 2d animated film in theaters ever again, but within streaming which has become the industry interest anyway, i think that it's very likely you'll see more 2d films coming out with technology improvements. sergio pablos himself said that he didn't really want any harsh comparisons between 2d and 3d or to say that klaus is a good film just because it's 2d, but to say it's good because it's simply a good film, and the ultimate reason he used 2d animation for klaus is because he felt that 2d had been left by the wayside to never improve meaningfully after disney and co moved onto 3d features. He wanted to improve the medium to catch it up to speed with 3d, and he fucking DID.

at the end of the day, profit is king in the industry. klaus had a budget of $40 million (toy story 4 had a budget of $200 million, for comparison!), but i can't find their profits online, so i don't know if it was a big enough chunk of change for other industry giants to put all their chips in to even try a full 2d feature. i know netflix does them here and there but i haven't heard of any new ones to the scale of klaus. then again i haven't been looking...

if we are talking about lower budget 2d features, btw, i do think there might be a slight foray into experimental yet more 'beautiful' technology techniques, but i'm not sure if that'll manifest as more "3d looking" animation. cartoon saloon went insane with wolfwalkers, which was deeply 2d to its core, and yet they slyly used 3d technology for the wolfvision scenes (in a similar way that disney used to integrate 3d into their 2d films such as beauty and the beast and tarzan).

last thing i'll say is that there IS a market for 2d--a particularly large one. look up any pencil test from a classic animated film on youtube and you'll see thousands of comments from people bemoaning a world without REAL 2d animated films, like they really used to make them, and every comment on Klaus videos are about how they're bringing glory back to 2d... so if there's a commercially large studio that wants to put their bets on it, i think there's really something lurking under the surface for 2d, especially for those feeling nostalgic.

I hope to be a part of that 2d feature resurgence :)

[cheri-cheri]

Hello cheri~! Do the characters of light and night have profiles? Can i ask if you could translate/make profiles for them 🥺 i've been trying to look them up online but nothing is coming up 😭

Thank you!!

(´꒳`)♡ Hello!! I’ve translated their key data from the L&N Baidu page under the cut!

🍒 Warning: This post contains spoilers 🍒

[ MC ]

Age: 23

Talent: Ultra-sensitivity

Short Bio: 

A junior designer who is currently working in Wanzhen. While working hard to become a designer, she meets CEO Evan, top-class designer Director Sariel, Fiancé Charlie, racing driver Osborn, and old childhood friend Jesse. She gradually unlocks the other unknown side of this world.

[ OSBORN ]

Name in CN: 萧逸 - Xiao Yi

Occupation: Racing driver

Birthday: 23 November

Height: 185cm

Age: 23

Horoscope: Sagittarius

Talent: Dark blue flames

Notable quote: “You’re the black-and-white flag at the end of my race track. Even if you’re as far as the end of the world, I can spot you at a glance.”

Short Bio: 

Osborn is a professional racing driver who has won four consecutive R1 racing championships. He has long since become a miracle in the sports realm.

On the outside, he has an imposing and cold appearance unsuitable for his age. In actual fact, he has a cheerful personality and enjoys joking in front of people he’s familiar with. He occasionally reveals a rough and unruly side, but he’s someone who’s able to bring others a sense of security and trust. 

He has a good sense of direction, a keen sense of smell, and is good at remembering tastes. 

He carries lemon candy with him at all times, and the sour and sweet taste is reminiscent of him.

He has a pet tortoise named Charmander.

In the eyes of the public, he is an arrogant and unruly racer. Few people know of his other hidden identity - a bounty hunter.

[ EVAN ]

Name in CN: 陆沉 - Lu Chen

Occupation: CEO of Wanzhen

Birthday: 22 January

Height: 186cm

Age: 26

Horoscope: Aquarius

Talent: Illusions

Notable quote: “All of that involuntary timidity and hesitation - let them go in front of me.”

Short Bio: 

Being in a position of power, he sometimes finds himself in situations where he’s unable to act out of his own volition. He has to be wary of various schemes by careerists. With his extraordinary tactics and composed wisdom, he’s able to handle them with ease.

Although he’s in a high position, he always treats others gently, modestly, and courteously. He often lends a helping hand when others need help, and is well liked by his subordinates. 

His overly perfect appearance and personality makes it difficult to step closer to his inner heart.

He’s able to see and hear things from a great distance, but he often chooses to turn this ability off. The mission he shoulders and his past are mostly unknown.

[ SARIEL ]

Name in CN: 齐司礼 - Qi Si Li

Occupation: First-class designer

Birthday: 1 September (officially), 15 August (actual)

Height: 181cm

Age: Unknown

Horoscope: Virgo

Talent: Extraordinary regeneration

Notable quote: “Why does my rhythm get involuntarily disrupted whenever I’m with you? It’s truly troublesome.”

Short Bio: 

To the outside world, Sariel is an international first-class designer. To insiders, he’s the Design Director of the Warson brand in Wanzhen. 

With white hair and golden pupils, he looks cold, arrogant, and difficult to get close to. 

His original form is a fox. He lives alone in a deep mountain enchantment with a lizard for company. He is at least a thousand years old.

During his younger days, he was a general and a high-spirited young man. He had a very different personality from the way he is now.

He loves gardening and listening to crosstalk. He takes a long time to reflect on crosstalk, so it’s only after a while after the crosstalk ends that he laughs till he trembles.

He prefers to eat vegetarian food. He’s allergic to chili, so he can't touch it at all. Touching foxtail grass will result in hallucinogenic effects.

He has a vicious tongue and completely lacks mercy when dealing with things he considers not passable. However, he’s able to provide irrefutable reasons from a professional point of view. Once MC obtains his approval, she is able to see the hidden warmth and adorable side of his character.

[ CHARLIE ]

Name in CN: 查理苏 - Zha Li Su

Occupation: Reconstructive surgeon for burn injuries

Birthday: 24 July

Height: 187cm

Age: 28

Horoscope: Leo

Talent: Vacuum

Notable quote: “I’ve been waiting for a long time, fiancée.”

Short Bio: 

Charlie is the sole heir of the Zha Family. He comes from abroad and has an illustrious family background. 

He has purple eyes and grey hair, and wears luxurious clothes. He gives off a powerful aura, yet is relaxed and easygoing. His actions are somewhat difficult to comprehend. He’s frank and sincere, and is occasionally as childish as a kid.

He’s extremely confident and narcissistic. He’s often engrossed with looking at himself in the mirror, and sees himself as a “perfect person”.

He loves sweet food, especially cakes. 

He has a pet sparrow called Sherry.

He isn’t the most courageous person around, and is afraid of fierce animals such as tigers. When he watched a horror movie with MC, he shrieked and hid in MC’s arms when she frightened him.

He has an extraordinary memory, and is able to crack Morse codes and Vigenère ciphers without needing a reference chart.

He suffers from insomnia and has lots of medication in his bag. It’s hinted that the reason lies in his past.

[ JESSE ]

Name in CN: 夏鸣星 - Xia Ming Xing

Occupation: Musical actor

Birthday: 26 May

Height: 179cm

Age: 21

Horoscope: Gemini

Talent: Psychic

Notable quote: “I really want to return to that summer, no longer be a coward, and use the better me of today to hold your hand.”

Short Bio:

Jesse is a musical actor who debuted in France. With his green eyes and brownish pink-orange hair, he’s handsome and brims with youthfulness. It’s really difficult to tell that he was a little fatty in his childhood, which caused MC to give him the nickname “Dumpling”. However, he doesn’t like MC to call him that, especially in front of outsiders.

He has known MC for 15 years and 9 months, and is two years younger than her.

He used to be MC’s neighbour and was a clingy little crybaby. MC once helped him out when he was bullied.

He likes to eat chestnuts and MC likes to eat sweet potatoes. During their childhood, the both of them only had enough money to buy one, and they’d often play a finger-guessing game to decide.

The both of them studied in the same elementary and junior high school. A misunderstanding seven years ago led to a rift in their relationship. He moved to a foreign country and lost contact with MC.

When abroad, he only uses the name “Jesse” instead of his Chinese name. As such, very few people know the name “Xia Ming Xing.”

[destiny-islanders]

So I haven't been on the kingdom hearts side of the internet since KH3 came out (minus looking at some fan art occasionally) and I feel like I've missed something but I don't know it's it's a whole game or like a dlc or what so what exactly has happened since KH3? (Plot wise or game release wise works, I can just Google the other if I have a starting point)

Let’s seeeeee...

KH Re:Mind explains how Sora used person-disappearing time travel (?) to save Kairi 

Using his friends’ hearts as points to jump through space and time, Sora witnesses his allies’ battles with various members of Organization XIII (enduring combat where Cure is assigned to the triangle button, an offense most egregious)

He eventually finds a way to save Kairi... at the cost of. Y’know. Having A Corporeal Form

Fast-forward one year into a Sora-less future. Everyone’s trying to find Sora. Donald and Goofy are on a world tour to see if he’s popped up anywhere. Riku’s visiting the Radiant Garden crew to see if they can be of any help. Kairi is sleeping. So. Everyone’s contributing on brand.

Cid is hoping that through analysis of data of Organization XIII’s members, the group may be able to uncover some clues about where to find Sora. The method of analysis: Data Sora must engage in data battles that are almost prohibitively hard if you’re playing on any difficulty above Standard mode. (So, again. On brand.)

After hundreds of attempts and Data Sora bodies getting scraped off of the floor with a Keyblade-shaped spatula, the day is won.

Jump over to disappeared Sora, who’s stuck walking on water in the moonlight. A figure walks towards him in the darkness. No, Destiny, it’s not Noctis like you let yourself get worked up over when you heard his voice in the trailer. It’s Yozora, the main character of Verum Rex from Toy Box and decidedly not voiced by Ray Chase. And he wants to kill you. Suddenly they’re on the roof of a skyscraper in the middle of a busy town that looks like Shibuya but it isn’t, shut up, nerd.

Unless you have the skills of a KH god, Yozora does indeed kill you the first time. Sora becomes an exquisite ice sculpture and Yozora promises to protect... either him or someone else. If he’s talking to our Sora, he has some work to do.

When the player finally beats Yozora (it took me 150 tries on Proud and that’s not an exaggeration-- I COUNTED), it’s Sora’s turn to witness his opponent get put on ice.

Not-Noctis wakes up in the back of the Not-Regalia where Not-Ignis says cryptic words. Not-Ignis sounds just like Luxord.

Melody of Memory explains why Kairi was sleeping during KH Re:Mind. She’s delving into her memories in the hopes of finding a key to Sora’s whereabouts.

Enduring such hardships as listening to tracks like the Mickey Mouse theme and Bibbidy-Bobbidi-Boo in their entirety, she recaps the entire KH story so far (unless you have a mobile phone and still play KHUX and Dark Road).

She eventually ends up in the Final World. Xehanort is there. They fight. It’s very exciting. Until it’s not. Xehanort knocks Kairi on her ass. He’s about to strike her down, but then Kairi uses the Kingdom Key to defend herself. Which is awesome. But then she turns into Sora. Which is unawesome. You fight Xehanort as Sora and win.

Kairi sees a glimpse into her past, where Xehanort, during his time as Ansem the Wise’s apprentice, captures her and prepares to send her into the outside world. He says some cryptic shit about what should happen if she fails.

Kairi wakes up and reports what she’s found to the others. We are reminded by Ansem the Wise about the many different realms we’ve explored throughout the Kingdom Hearts series. The world of memories, dreams, data... and now, based on Kairi’s experiences, we’re faced with the world of ~fiction~.

The Fairy Godmother appears and accompanies Riku and Kairi to the Final World, where they meet up with the nameless star that Sora had spoken with before he un-appeared.

The nameless star turns out to be a girl from a different reality-- most likely the world of fiction that Sora has disappeared to. It’s called Quadratum.

With the star’s help, Riku gets to embark on an adventure to save Sora while Kairi is left behind again :)

Kairi goes back to Yen Sid to continue her training so she can finally join the Cool Kids Doing Stuff Club. She decides she’s going to train under Aqua which is cool but there’s too much salt on this table for me to forget the taste.

Mickey, meanwhile, is sent on a mission to learn about the ancient Keyblade masters. If you strain your ears, you may still hear the groans of everyone who still hasn’t played or at least brushed up on KHUX’s storyline.

[paper-n-ashes]

The Late Shift - Part 2

Characters: Paul Sevier x Female Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings/Tags: Little inklings of sexual themes. Otherwise we’re still in PG territory. Oh and mutual pining from two idiots. My favourite kind.

Authors Note: One shot? I don’t know her. Honestly, I don’t have any excuse. I just felt the urge to continue on with this dumb fluffy story because it makes me feel a little warm and fuzzy inside and I needed that. Will we drive this car straight into smut town afterwards? Ah you’ll just have to see. 

Catch up with Part 1 here

*

Paul always considered himself a smart guy. Perceptive, knowledgeable, with years of grueling education behind him to be where he is today.

His schooling, work, almost every minute of his waking moments was spent in the realm of artificial illustrations of correspondence. He could happily spend hours sifting through the words and numbers that made up all types of message transmission, might even admit he had a talent for decoding their significance and origin. Exchanges born from machinery were easy to analyse – they had set rules and gave little room for differing interpretation. He was comfortable in that world. Knew how things worked, what paths data and carefully devised information would take.

Human communication was infinitely harder to navigate. It was a skill he knew he was lacking in, compared to others at least. His words never came out the way he wanted, he struggled to say exactly what was wished to convey and agonised over the fact expression and tone could morph any remark into something with a whole different meaning.

Every day, he encountered people who used this as a tool - a weapon to obscure the truth and conceal hidden agendas. It was hard not to, working for the US government. In time, he’d become cynical. Wary of what people spoke aloud, assuming it was all said without much sincerity or reliability unless proven otherwise.

And then after another arduous day, there you were. Out of nowhere. Kind. Honest. Genuine. Within such an excruciatingly short interaction, you’d exuded all these traits so effortlessly. A breath of fresh air after being smothered by the smog the rest of his life contained.

Paul would easily admit his attraction to you was surprisingly swift. The rapturing smile you wore when you’d looked up from your notepad had him snared from the moment it appeared, an aura of natural vibrance and radiant energy shimmering out from your animated expression. What he’d expected to be a dry, tedious endeavour turned into a spark-filled scene, where an excited stranger made him feel both horrendously nervous and unusually at-ease. It had been a long time since someone made him feel like that.

It had also been a long time since he’d asked someone out on a date, for more than a few reasons. The more prolific Paul became in his job, the more unpredictable and unstable his life outside of it was. It took him across the country at a moments’ notice and consumed most hours of his day, meaning forging even short relationships was fairly difficult.

Plus… he just wasn’t good at it. Putting himself out there. He was shy, paralyzingly so. It’s not exactly something he could refute. His confidence was always born from experience and understanding, in knowing the reasons behind why things worked the way they did, along with being able to calculate what would happen next. No textbook could ever cover the entire spectrum of human personality, and there was no way to truly predict what a person might do or say. 

So, without the security of knowledge behind him, uneasiness and apprehension took over in most of his social interactions, particularly with those he felt a magnetism to. It’s exactly how he thought he seemed during his time with you. Awkward and floundering. Not exactly the most charming attributes for a man to have. And yet, the longer he was in your presence, the more he sensed those foibles fade into the back of his mind.

Talking to you was easy. Easier than it had been with anyone during a first meeting. What hadn’t been easy was enduring the seconds your touch grazed over him in your delicate workings while taking each different measurement - his heart beating a little faster, his muscles becoming a little more tense. When you’d eventually let your stare reach his, he’d seen how your eyes moved to trace the lines of his mouth, and it set his insides on fire. He’d been frozen by the unique type of burn, his body locked in place while a rare impulse begged him to sink his lips onto yours. In the past, he struggled to kiss a woman even after several dates, unable to push past the fear and doubt to turn his desire into action. However, in that moment, he’d been all too eager. His hand had moved on its own accord, fingers slinking up your waist, about to pull you closer when interruption instantly shattered his resolve.

The urge was still there in the dialogue that followed, although the promise of seeing you tomorrow made it easier to walk away, safe in the knowledge he had another opportunity to ask you out when his confidence was properly steeled. For once, he could be smart about this. Use his natural intellect to plan and act accordingly, giving him the best odds of securing more time with you.

Oh, but that all went to shit when your text message popped up on his phone screen. Seeing those words, even if they were meant for someone else, made his excitement reach an unfathomable peak, and in turn made him recklessly send a response without taking a second to think about the consequences.

And now, Paul had never felt so stupid in his entire life.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, the phone in his palm lit up with your conversation on display, he felt his stomach spasm with anxiety. Were you going to reply? What would you say? What if his bluntness freaked you out? What if you weren’t even talking about him? Was this all something his mind conjured up?

As the minutes passed without any sign of a response, the initially minor sense of panic began to compound, weighing heavy on his chest, the chaos of his mind soon melting into one certainty - he’d totally fucked this up.

About to slump his forehead into the steering wheel in a display of despondency, Paul suddenly felt a flash of courage at remembering the view of your face peering up at him. He knew the image of it would haunt him if he didn’t do something. He had to fix this. Explain himself. But it needed to be in person. He wouldn’t let technology mess this up for him again.

With a purposeful breath, Paul exited his car and began to retrace his steps past the other shopfronts, silently rehearsing what he wanted to say to you. He hoped to surrender himself to a collectively embarrassing situation, laugh off the turn of events, having it all culminate in an offer of dinner once your shift had finished. He already had a place in mind, only a street away, a little dumpling house that was always open late. Perfect for a cosy, quiet date after a chance meeting.

When his eyes latched onto your figure through the glass window, he stopped his hand from reaching for the door handle. You were crouching down in front of a small boy, his mother behind him cradling a newborn baby, your hand gesturing towards an array of child size suits. Paul couldn’t help but watch as your warming smile beamed, guiding the boys hands to touch and feel over the material, your words evidently making him feel more at ease as his expression slowly relaxed out of its worried frown.

Creeping backwards to make sure you didn’t catch him in your periphery, Paul felt a wave of relief wash over his skin, having evidence that your lack of reply wasn’t due to any of the worst case scenarios he’d been fretting over. You were just busy, concentrated on your work, giving your time and expertise to others in the same way you’d given to him.

The realisation was enough for him slink away, still impatient for your next encounter but assured in it being set within the next day cycle. He just had to wait.

Although, waiting wasn’t exactly a talent of his either.

 *

You were dying inside.

A friendly grin was plastered on your face as you conversed sweetly with the woman in front of you, making idle chit-chat while her son changed out of the suit you’d picked together, but the smile had never felt so insincere. Usually you loved when children came in to pick out ensembles for weddings and similarly formal events, but at the moment your mind was stuck on a small battery-powered rectangle sitting at your desk with a half-written message remaining under your lock-screen.

In the time before Paul’s response came through, you’d never felt more humiliated in your whole existence. Evaporating into thin air would have been a welcomed miracle. But when the returning text slid into focus, your whole mindset shifted.

He felt the same. He wanted you too.

You’d been in the middle of typing out a hasty invitation to come back and make true on his intentions when this overwhelmed mother with a fussy baby caught your attention. Her eldest son had done his best to iron out his only formal suit for the role of ring bearer in an aunt’s wedding this coming weekend, unfortunately resulting an a house full of smoke and a clump of burnt wool.

Personal matters withered into the background at the comprehension of her drained, exhausted demeanour, all your focus pointed back towards the job you’d been distracted from. Well, mostly.

You couldn’t avoid the thoughts and questions glinting in the back of your mind. Of what might have happened if this woman never appeared. What might be happening in an alternate timeline where you’d been able to send that waiting reply. Without intention, your wonderings turned into moving pictures – leading Paul into the back workshop, being roughly picked up onto the cutting table, his lips and yours finally connected in a heated clash, shedding all of his clothing until that heinous mustard shirt was crumpled on the floor-

The high pitched beep of the receipt machine snapped you back into reality, noting the relieved smile the mother wore while her son excitedly grabbed at the bags containing his dashing new suit.

“Thank you!” he hollered without needing to be prompted, waving his hand vigorously before skittering away to the door.

“You’re an absolute lifesaver,” the woman echoed, taking the receipt from your outstretched hand. “I’m really sorry for keeping you so late.”

“Oh don’t worry about it.” The time on the monitor screen just ticked over to 8:17pm, long after you would usually shut up shop and head home to your empty apartment. “I've got nowhere special to be.”

You each said your goodbyes, waiting until the precise moment her silhouette was out of sight before jumping to your phone. The same half written message was there, but now it felt impossible to finish. All traces of adrenaline had long since worn off, and the bravery that made you type out the risqué proposition was reduced to almost nothing. Your timid nature rushed back in full force, a thumb pressing hard on the little x button to erase all evidence of your out of character impulses.

Who were you kidding. You weren’t this person. Unashamed and brazen enough to dive into a fiery entanglement with a handsome stranger in the same evening you’d met. You wished you could be. There was never a time the concept was so enticing. But… it was a fantasy not meant for you to live out. They were destined for the outgoing, the cool and composed, the bold and sure-footed. You rarely felt like any of those things. And Paul, like most men, probably reserved their interest and attraction for those types of women. It was so silly of you to think any different. Getting your hopes up was foolish, and would only end in-

The tingle of the shopkeepers bell sounded, internally groaning as you slid your phone back onto the desk. “We’re closed,” you hawked, a coldness in your tone you couldn’t hide. Eyes snapping up to the intruder, a bolt of lightening shot through, barely able to stop the delight mixing into your blood.

“I just, uh, figured out something more that I needed,” Paul said softly, scratching the back of his neck, clearly nervous.

“You did?” you breathed. “W-what was it?”

His chest rose and fell with a calming exhale, making sure your stares were secured before giving his answer. “…You.”

*

Tagging some lovelies who might want to read. Feel free to let me know if you don’t want to tagged in future works!

@tlcwrites @roanniom @princessxkenobi @hopeamarsu @blowthatpieceofjunk @mariesackler @leatherboundriot @foxilayde @modernpaw @cornmousequeen @direnightshade @mylifeisactuallyamess @caillea @jynz-andtonic @paterson-blue @miraclesabound @prismaticpizza​ @millenialcatlady​ 

[gallavictorious]

Hello! What do you think about this recent new rumor that Ian and Mickey will have a threesome with a woman to get her pregnant? This is based on one anon saying some shit about a threesome happening (no proof) and a new actress being on set for ep 11 and 12 (who could be related to Carl's or Debbie's storyline as well). I think it's very weird and I'm not sure the show would actually go there. Hope not.

Hiya, nonnie!

Well, I don't think very much about at all, to be honest. As you say, there's not a lot of solid stuff to back this up, but it's also not outside the realm of possibility (if only because so few things are). When I saw the first BTS pic of the actress lounging in the Gallavich house, my first guess was that she was somehow involved with Carl's story – but of course that's just as unsubstantiated as the idea that she's there for a Gallavich threesome.

The actress appears to be Shakira Barrera, by the way, of Glow fame, and apparently also Animal Kingdom. Getting this ask, I checked IMDB for any clues, and it lists her as playing a character named Heidi in 11x11 and 11x12. Now, IMDB is not necessarily a trustworthy source, since anyone who registers an account can suggest edits (which is how we end up with sudden listings of Emmy Rossum in upcoming episode credits and the like) but Shakira did post on her IG about being on the Warner Bros lot the other day and Emma liked the pic, and yesterday she posted a story about going to the Warner Bros lot and there being ”last day of school vibes”. I am terrible with faces – like, if one of my best friends get a radical haircut I do not always recognize them terrible – so I can really tell if it's Shakira in the ”Last night with the Allstar team” picture Noel posted yesterday, but... I think there's a pretty decent case for it being her? I dig it, if so; I liked her in Glow!

That admittedly doesn't do anything to either support or disprove the threesome, as far as I can tell, but now that I have the information, I'd like to share. ;)

Returning to the actual rumour... There will always be rumours, especially concerning things people fear might be true, and once that anxiety gets hold of you, it's hard to shake. There is little to suggest that a threesome will happen – we have this new actress on set, we’re expecting some sort of lovely and sexy Gallavich moments in 11x11, we know that JW originally thought* Ian and Mickey might discuss kids this season (although we do not know how covid affected that, since the interview was done before the pandemic truly hit, but he did bring up Ian potentially thinking about kids again in December, though then it wasn’t entirely clear if that was more of general observation about things Ian and Mickey might differ on or something we could expect to actually see in the season), and these things could add up to a threesome with a potential surrogate but they could also add up to so many other things – and these separate facts needn't be connected at all! Ian and Mickey can very well be discussing kids without suddenly having a threesome with a woman. I suppose the pic Cam posted of a fake baby kind of sparked the whole thing, since it once more turned people's minds towards Ian and Mickey having children, and in combination with the strong reaction many fans had to the orgy of 11x07... it was just fertile ground for this kind of speculation to take hold, you know?

But. I can't conclusively debunk this theory, nonnie; I wish I could, to ease the minds of those who fear the possibility. For what it's worth, I think it's based on very little and to me introducing a whole new character in the last two episodes just to get Ian and Mickey a kid doesn’t seem like the likeliest option – but that doesn't mean it can't happen. While it's not my first (or second or third) guess about what might be going down, I obviously can't make any promises or even educated guesses, because there’s not enough data for me to feel comfortable doing that. We'll just have to wait and see, I'm afraid; hopefully new details will emerge in the coming weeks that might give us further clues. (And if you’re sitting on anything relevant – anything relevant and sourced, mind you! – feel free to share, but please understand that I’m not terribly interested in the topic, apart from the sleuthing opportunities it presents, and have no intention of getting further involved in the arguments surrounding it - at least not without something solid to go on. ;) I might - and probably will - ignore asks concerning this: fair warning.)

I'd urge people not to borrow misery, when we have this little to go on, but while I'm not particularly concerned about this possibility (both because I don't think there's a very strong case for it and because I'd probably be less upset about such a developtment than most others, even though it's certainly not the SL I’d have chosen for them) I am very familiar with anxiety, and know that many fans are deeply distrustful of the writers. I suspect that nothing but actual, conclusive proof that this new character won't be involved with a character will properly soothe people's fears. Unfortunately, that I cannot give you at this point.

*I’m at work and can’t for the life of me find the relevant interview now; I’ll try to get hold of it when I’m back home at my own laptop to provide a link. Please take the claim with a grain of salt until then.

[hhhhhhhappycow]

Prince of Tennis 2019 Hunger Games AU:

(Aka something I half-daydreamed after reading the Hunger Games prequel and watching the Prince of Tennis live action series):

When 15 year old Lu Xia volunteers as the tribute for District 4, even the peacekeepers are bewildered as to whether he can do that. After all, he spent the majority of his childhood in the Capitol with his mother. However he was born in District 4 and returned there the year before to live with his father in the Victor's Village, and so they allow it.

People talk, as they always do, wondering whether this was why he returned to them at all, why he kept to himself and always seemed to be training for something. It was.

The 15 year old boy he took the place of, Ah Mu, sobs with relief and gratitude and sorrow for this stranger who has certainly saved his life.

His father, the famed Victor, Lu Xiangqian, only watches in silence as his son walks toward the stage. There is no pride in his face, only terror.

Next they call the female tribute, and nobody steps forward for Qi Ying as she moves towards the stage, dwarfed by all those around her. She knows she doesn't stand a chance.

Lu Xiangqian is silent as he accompanies his son on the journey to the Capitol. Although he does not say anything, it is clear that this brings back memories of his own Reaping, 20 years previously, when he was just an unknown boy from an impoverished family, and not yet an underdog success story lauded by the Capitol. He has not been there in years, had returned to District 4 shortly after marrying and remained there even when his Capitol wife left him, taking their infant son with her, to return to her home. He is met with cheers and screams in the streets.

Also accompanying them is Qi Na, Qi Ying’s aunt and a fellow previous Victor. She won her own games two years after Lu Xiangqian, and although not quite as beloved a figure as he is, she too is welcomed in the Capitol. In spite of the quiet life she has enjoyed since her own games in the Victor’s Village of District 4, she takes it upon herself to mentor both Lu Xia and Qi Ying, determined that one of these small children will make it out alive. Still, her heart breaks every time she looks at them, realizing she will at some point likely have to make the choice between saving her niece and saving her former mentor and friend’s son.

Lu Xiangqian cannot bring himself to mentor his own son, and he knows that Lu Xia would resist all attempts for him to do so. Instead he spends time talking with the others at the training centre, giving tips when he knows Lu Xia is listening in. In particular, he finds himself bonding with a plucky young boy from District 8, Qiao Chen, who somewhat reminds him of himself.

Despite Qi Na’s advice for them to make allies, Lu Xia keeps to himself, and Qi Ying sticks close to his side. He makes no effort to befriend her, but he does not send her away either.

During training, they meet some of the other tributes.

Mu Siyang is the Career tribute from District 2, although he is not the standard Career as Lu Xia thinks of them. Siyang trained along with several other boys from his year, and managed to best them all. At 17, despite being a year younger than is usual for volunteers, the mentors from District 2 believed him to be far more capable than any of their 18 year old trainees, and so prompted him to step forward. Siyang, who had long since accepted that he would one day be reaped, merely did as he had been asked, with little complaint. He is tall and strong and by far the favorite to win, even favored by the Head Game-maker's own son, Ji Jingwu. His one weakness, which he hides from the tributes, is an old arm injury that occasionally acts up. Like Lu Xia, he largely keeps to himself, although he seems willing to train with others when they approach him.

Another unusual choice for a Career- and also a favorite for victory- is 17 year old Zhuo Zhi, from District 1. Similar to Siyang, he was supposed to volunteer in the following year, at 18. However, at the Reaping, it was his younger brother's name that they called, and the 18 year old who was supposed to volunteer- Guan Yue- remained silent, knowing that Zhuo Zhi would take his place. Lu Xia immediately marks him, aside from Siyang, as the toughest competition. Zhuo Zhi is careful not to practice his skills in front of the others, and there are rumours- supported by his high scores from the Game-makers- that he has no weaknesses. He seems to spend time with Siyang the most, seeking out his company and joking in an interview that they were both clearly fated to be in the games together this year rather than the following year.

Yan Zhiming, an 18 year old from District 3, is seemingly omnipresent in the training arena. He watches his competitors train with a sharp gaze, gathering data on all of his opponents. He takes the time to learn all of their strengths and weaknesses. It is only when Zhang Baiyang from District 7, tired of being watched, snaps at him to actually pick up some skills while he can or his data isn't going to be of any use in the arena, that he realizes he needs to learn to put his information to use.

Although not a Career, and despite only being 16, Zhang Baiyang is another favorite to win, strong and steely and determined. The only problem is he does not do so well with interviews, acting sullen and withdrawn in a way that comes across as sulky rather than arrogant. He puts maximum effort into training, although he himself does not seem confident in his ability to win. When Yan Zhiming approaches him with the offer of an alliance, he is reluctant to accept, but ultimately agrees after a seeming change of heart. Neither of them know how long it will last.

Qiao Chen, also aged 16, is from District 8 and is considered more of a dark horse in the competition. While he does not have the strength of the Careers or Baiyang, he is agile and has high endurance. His cheery attitude also endears him, both to the viewers and other contestants. Although not Baiyang, who gets fed up with Qaio Chen following him and trying to copy his strength exercises. At the prompting of Lu Xiangqian, he attempts to ally himself with both Lu Xia and Qi Ying, trying to earn their trust. Lu Xia remains suspicious that this is either just a ploy or that his father is orchestrating it solely for his benefit.

He Xinglong, 18, is from District 11 and is considered another dark horse. In interviews he is mild-mannered and friendly, but when talk turns to family, his face turns hard and he announces that he promised his father he would come home, and that he intends to keep that promise. He is up there in terms of raw strength, although in the training sessions he spends more time working with the paints and learning to camouflage and hide himself. Asides from Qiao Chen, he is the only one Lu Xia may consider as a potential ally.

While not a favorite to win by any means, it is not considered outside the realm of possibilities for Chi Dayong, an 18 year old from District 5, to emerge victorious. He is an all-rounder, strong and intelligent, although he is somewhat slow and tends to trust others perhaps too quickly. To the surprise of many, Siyang seems to befriend him, becoming the only person other than Zhuo Zhi (and occasionally Yan and Lu Xia) that Siyang speaks with. He seems to be aware of the fact that he will not win, and is simply striving to stay alive for as long as possible.

Despite the rumours and the fact that the girl from his home of District 6 is, Tang Jiale, also aged 18, is not a morphling addict. His twitchiness comes from nerves only, as like Dayong he knows he is unlikely to live. While he is nimble and quick, he is not necessarily strong and he lacks stamina. He becomes close to Dayong over the course of their training, and by the time the two head into the arena they have a strong pact: If they're going out, they're going out together, at least.

Huang Jing and Ma Xiuwen are from District 9 and District 10 respectively, and deep down they both know they will not last long. Still, both boys are just shy of 15, and are in denial about their odds, doing their best in training to gain skills and strength in spite of the fact that their mentors have already abandoned them as lost causes. Together they copy the moves that Siyang does, trying to emulate him, and even Lu Xiangqian and Qi Na offer them advice. Huang Jing reassures Xiuwen that their training will pay off, that the two of them will make it right to the end, but he knows his words are empty.

The first time that anybody pays attention to Qi Ying is during the interview stage. She departs from her script and speaks of the atrocities, both awaiting them and in their home districts. Her speech is heart-rending poignant and heavily edited by the time it reaches the Capitol.

Lu Xia does not say much in his interviews, only stating that he is here to beat his father's records, although he does, to the surprise of many, defend Qi Ying.

Jiale and Dayong drum up some popularity in the interviews, with their clear affection for each other being viewed as an inspirational friendship by many. They both secretly wonder how much of it is built on the need to survive.

Another popular duo, for a different reason, are Baiyang and Qiao Chen. Their squabbling during training comes to a head during the interviews, and members of the Capitol gossip about the potential for a passionate showdown between the two once they enter the arena.

Siyang's interview only gains him more respect: He is introspective, intelligent, and calm, speaking about the event that is about to unfold with sorrow but also a resignation that is mature beyond his years.

Zhuo Zhi plays up the mysterious angle, bantering with the host (and Jiale, in an unexpected friendship that some of the audience love) and smirking throughout. The only time he cracks slightly is when his brother, who he volunteered for, is mentioned: That is when his determination to get home is truly revealed.

Lu Xia is slowly starting to realize that winning the Hunger Games may be harder than he initially thought.

[pearlplusau]

Chapter 5- The insertion (Part 1)

Decades passed in the home world galaxy, everything was different now, as the planet slowly ripped in half, the anguish of the three diamonds remains unscathed and permanent as the infinite suns.

After the incident, White Diamond isolated herself in her giant head ship all day, carrying out duties through simple mind control and formal messages to the higher ranked gems in her court, never needing to leave, never needing to see the empty palace of her starlight or the absent of the pink ship.

Blue Diamond wept, she wept day in, day out, as her only companion to feel happy together was lost and never would she returned. She suffered greatly from losing her, the sadness got so out of hand, under her eyes were dark bags as if they came to warn her about her powers draining her life force. Every now and then, she would visit Pinks sacred planets or the Human zoo, just to mourn for her, just to be reminded how she didn’t help as much as she should, just to feel what was left of her.

Yellow Diamond showed no more than what she already feels, anger. she would be in her chambers, attempting some long forgotten experiments of retrieved gem shards from the battle on Earth. Could she recognize her own soldiers from the rebels? No, it was impossible to distinguish gems by their shards, so she decided to continue the experiment. as she examines the various shards scattered on the counter,she thought of a plan . “If I can’t make a colony out of that hideous rock, then it looks like I’ll have to destroy it. White may have yet to approve my idea, but her refusal of talking anything regarding Pink won’t stop me from wiping that planet out of existence,” she thought as bitterness and anger fueled her, but she knew she was just as heartbroken as Blue, she just couldn’t show it.

She wiped off something from her eye and called out, “Pearl!”

The yellow pearl peeked out behind the counter with her arms in salute, “Yes my Diamond?”

“I want you to seek out the Inordinate one, and get her here immediately, I have a very important mission for her.”

“Yes,right away my Diamond!” Pearl bowed and left the room.

 Back on Earth,

The remains of a war was mostly scattered about, there abandon weapons, obilerated lands, and broken space ships here and there, but no gem shards were shining in the dusty bright dessert, and no real sign of battles can be seen.

A corrupted giant yam monster, the size of a giant boulder was rolling away into an abondoned kindergarden. The Crystal gems, which consisted of Garnet, Pearl and Coral panted as they chased the monster for the whole day, but it was too fast for them.

"Not that i know of, but we need a break, i dont think Coral here can withstand another hit from the monster." She pointed to the aformentioned gem as she looks like shes gonna collapsed at any moment.

Pearl was the first to recover herself and started, "That’s the third time this week it got away! Garnet! Can you see if we're able to take care of it?"

The fusion, paused and go through the multiple outcomes of the situation, but none shows a newly bubbled gem in her room.

The pink pearl was panting and wheezing as she was rather in low health, but she held her head up and assured the two gems that she's fine.

"Really! I'm fine! Let's keep goin-" She almost finished her sentence before collapsing.

Before she went unconcious, she heard Pearl mumbling and complaining, "I knew it was a bad idea! Why was she so insisting on coming along? She was the one that lost track and couldn’t keep a stable stance with it!”

“Pearl,” Garnet said, “You can’t blame her for the inevitable, besides, Rose needed sometime alone and she was the one that suggested we do it together since we can’t all just swing a sword and poof them in an instant! At least she’s trying her best.”

Pearl responded the fusion, “Well maybe, her best just isn’t-”

Coral passed out before she could comprehend her last words, and drifted into some sort of realm of the past, or rather, somewhere that’s so familiar but yet still the same.

She was standing in a dark room, but was suddenly lit up bright, she found that she was in White’s Head ship with her heels up in the air, her arms stiff and stuck in an unsual pose, and she was…greyscaled? Before her stood White Diamond herself, she looked pleased of what she’d just done.

‘Ahh yes,’ The great diamond spoke, but her voice was echoing from somewhere nearby, ‘it’s been a long time since I used my powers but looks like its doing just fine!’

She looked at Coral as if this was a fun game, and only she know how it ends.

‘Don’t be too hard on yourself pearl,’ Her voice was almost, sympathy, pitying the pearl, ‘You wouldn’t want to remember any of this now would you?’

She placed her index finger under Coral’s chin and lifted it up to her bright face, her nail was so sharp it was a miracle her skin didn’t poof on impact.

‘I’m doing you a favour,’ Her voice echoed more, it was louder this time. ‘That crack of yours will never truly heal, she can’t be seen with an old, broken pearl, you understand now don’t you? Besides, she has her new pearl now, so don’t you wory about a thing!’

Coral tried to spoke, she tried to defend herself, but she couldn’t even look away, she doesn’t know WHAT to feel. All she could remember was Pink demanding a colony from the diamonds.

“Now off you go!” A white bubble materialized around her and floated out of the White torso ship. Everything went dark.

 Back at the temple, Coral was lying in her room, tossing and turning and gasped, shes awake.

She found herself on a pile of human clothing, she doesn’t wear them, but they were soft, perfect to lie on and rest when needed. The different shades of pink from ranging from Light to Deep pink to medium violet red can be seen neatly placed in piles, almost the size of a human bed.

“What was that? I don’t think I ever... dreamt before?” Coral questioned herself.

She looked around and saw all the things too familiar, surrounding the pile of clothes was running water in a pink hue, stretching out longer and wider than the sea, but no deeper than a kiddie pool. Above her, pink clouds were drifting through, they seem endless as well, going to the same direction as the sea around her.

“Wait a sec,” Coral suddenly thought, “Weren’t we on a mission or something? Where are the others?” She rose up and took a step out of the comforting pile of fabric and ballerina her way on the water’s surface.

She concentrated and a door size glow materialized in front of her. As the light dimmed, rose stems with thorns glowed and departed, leading her outside her room.

Just as she was half-way through, she heard a voice, no, two voices talking aloud and complaining.

Rose’s voice was first recognized, “-too dangerous, you need Coral on this mission!”

‘For what? All she did was getting trampled and hit by that thing! Any more damage taken would’ve poofed her! Or worse!”

Garnet’s voice joined in, ‘That I agree.”

‘Well, even if she’s not capable of catching the corrupted gem, you should’ve leave her out like this, she’ll be heartbroken if she finds out you went without her!’

‘So? It’s better than her slowing us down! There’s so much more monsters out there, we won’t be able to bubble them all with her around! Garnet and I can’t fight AND  keep her safe at the same time!’

Garnet chipped in, ‘And it’s not that we dislike her, we love her, all of us, but if we’re gonna take care of the planet and avoid locals from getting harmed, we need to bubble as much as possible in the least amount of time.’

A faint sigh can be heard, the leader spoke, ‘If it means less suffering and less humans getting hurt, then I suppose it would be fine for Coral to have a time-out for a few days. You two need to rest, but you should head out before Coral wakes up, all right?’

‘Of course’ said Pearl.

‘Noted.’ said Garnet.

‘Good,” Rose ended, ‘Dismissed’

Coral slipped back into her room before any of them noticed her. She was processing what was heard while the rest of the crystal gems head back to their respective rooms.

I’ll show them, she thought, I’ll show that I’m capable of handling a gem monster AND myself!

When the coast was clear, she quietly tip-toe out of her room and went back to the last known location of the yam monster.

 Just outside the Earth’s orbit, various yellow spaceships can be seen in a form of a diamond, specifically, Yellow Diamond.

Inside the first spacecraft, with green and yellow glowing alien technology far advanced than anything that ever existed, and piloting each ships were handfuls of Era 1 peridots. These peridots each have a triangular gem and the same heights as pearls, but far more intelligent as they are very competent technicians. The peridots were capable of doing various tasks such as data logging, research, communication range bigger than the galaxy without external equipments.

(Art by @gemfiles​, if you would like your artwork removed please dm me, as this pic here has the purpose of visual aids for the readers)

They were busy working on the coordinates and history of the planet Earth, typing required data and analyising it’s past reputation and current resources on the ships available platform and programs.

A peridot stood and walked off from her post, the others took no notice and persume their work. The peridot stood still in front of a door, and a scanner appears from the right wall. The contraption scanned her form for her gem and found it on the back of her left hand, the light scan turn from green to light yellow and beeped.

The door slid open and the peridot went through, her arms in diamond salute as she greets her superior officer.

‘My Anglesite,” She said, ‘I am here to report that we have arrived at the planet’s orbit, do I have your orders and coordinates to land ?’

‘My, my,’ The main gem-in-charge yellow Anglesite replied, wearing a white lab coat and triangular pointy shoulder pads in the colours yellow and white. She wore glasses so thin you could only notice it up front, the right side of her face was covered by her light blonde short hair.

If you think she’s the same as the other gems, she not, cuz her lower half was just hovering circle platform, so she would resemble a vase on the circular coffee table. But, the platform serves as a method of transport, as it is designed to float above any ground so she can travel as same as other gems, it’s just faster and requires her pretty much no energy to be in motion.

at the edge of the platform, robotic hands can sprout out and execute projects better and faster than a normal gem, weapons and defence systems? You dont need to worry about that.

The yellow gem continued, ‘Just as I calculated, looks like even the atmosphere is liking what will be done to that little chunk of rock, wiping it out of our starmaps will be so much faster, and then, the great Yellow Diamond will praise me for my work, promote me and i will finally have the chance to meet my glorious, shining White Diamond!’

The peridot was getting tired of hearing the “possibility” after the mission was complete, but she could only agree with her superior, ‘Of course she will my Anglesite! So, about the course-’

‘Ah yes, set the course towards north of the largest continent on the planet, that is where the final stage of the mission will commence!’ The yellow gem started giggling and laughing, but she gave one last order, ‘That will be all!’ and continued with her laughter.

‘Yes my Anglesite.’ Peridot trudged back to her position and set the course.

The ship entered the planet’s orbit and the technicians went to work.

 It’s been a few hours, the sun was starting to rise, the cold nigh air was starting to warm up the atmosphere as shadows began to crept under the desert lifeforms.

Coral was walking aimlessly through the desert, mumbling and kicking the sand, just wanted to catch that gem monster and prove to them she’s not useless.

I can’t believe they didn’t want me to come along, she thought, I’ve been with Rose longer than Pearl has, and I was there when everything happened, it’s not fair!

She kicked more sand, but the impact wasn’t obvious, since the whole terrain was a desert.

She sighed and sat behind a rock to take a break, physically and mentally.

The whole trip was to catch that monster but she’s done nothing but follow her “instincts” and it led her nowhere. There was no tracks, no damaged that looks like its from a giant yam monster, and most importantly, no idea whats next.

Wait, she thought, whats that on the sky?

Is that….a homeworld spaceship? No wait, there’s more than one?

Ohnononono, she thought, they’re coming back for us!

I have to go back! I have to tell Rose and Garnet and Pe-

….

….

Or…

Maybe this is the chance I’ve been waiting for, to prove that I can handle myself.

Yeah, I wont be able to fight off ships of soldiers, but I can do a little sneaking around, trying to see what’s really going on, or better yet, their plan of attack so we’ll know what’s coming!

Coral summoned her trusty lance and did a quick jog to catch up with the ships.

End of Part 1.

(Heyo, so...as you finish reading this youll notice it’s pretty different from the story before.

But its not like im trying a COMPLETY different thing, its kinda like the previous chapter where we see what happens on homeworld, but in this chapter, we’re dealing with something that doesn’t really have any leads from the canon series.

Sooo, yeah, the north of the largest continent, Yellow diamonds plan, corrupted monsters, you should have a pretty huge idea of whats going on.

Also, the new gem is very different from what we usually see, but there’ll be a concept art in traditional paper, and probs no colour, just for you guys to see what she looks like, cuz the description of her isnt so...Complete?

But feel free to draw her tho, cuz i guess she kinda an OC here? If you could tell, she’s a gem under yellow’s court, but she also contains little essence from white diamond, which is why she has two diamonds on her design.

So yeah, she will be posted in a few days or smth.

Aaaannddd thats abt it for now, if youre reading this, it means you respect what i have to say, and i thank you for that.

Happy reading!

Pearlplusauchap Pearlplusauchap5

[reflectionsofacreator]

The voice that speaks to you as you solve the puzzles slowly gets more coherent, until you get actual sentences like this. It’s still robotic and flat, but there’s clearly something speaking to you. Listening to it all on headphones was creepy as fuck, especially at around 2 am. It just got to me pretty hard, especially with the demands of the voice to die, or be destroyed. [Shudders]

This one has been kinda hard to talk about, because I wanted to touch on the other creepy shit that Subject Sixteen has revealed to you/Desmond. I have no idea why it’s so hard for me to articulate, save for the fact that it really Got to me. 

A science report shows that television was created with the intent to control the populace, similar to the effect of an Apple of Eden, but much lower power. Specifically, they tried doing the radio first, and it didn’t work quite as well as they wanted. The second half of that particular glyph/rift has you unscramble a phonecall to a cable company. It features a guy saying that his son was flipping through channels, until he got to a channel he wasn’t supposed to, and the channel has … interesting data. Stuff like his personal information, credit cards, loans, travel, his likes and dislikes, his biometric data…. 

The woman helping him hands over the call to her supervisor, and like. The whole conversation is unsettling because she’s been so cheery and helpful, even in the face of this kind of data? My first thought about it was similar to Joo Dee from Avatar the Last Airbender, with the false, enforced cheer hiding something horrible underneath. The supervisor tells the man that a technician is on his way to fix the problem. 

In the background, you hear a thud, another thud, and the guy’s young kid saying that there’s a strange man outside, and he’s hitting the door really hard. The supervisor gives a very blase “Have a good day, Mr Jameson.” and hangs up. 

On the one hand, I got legitimately freaked out by all this. But on the other…. God, it’s like. This kind of shit already happens so much? Things like Alexa, Googlehome, whatever, they all keep track of what you do, your records, whatever. I don’t know the state of technology like this during 2010 (I was in highschool and rather ignorant) when Brotherhood came out, but like… It’s not as scary as it was when Brotherhood came out, because this kind of shit is like… not that out of the realm of possibility now. 

And that got me thinking–

I can’t help but wonder if it’s … idk an intention of the devs? The story tellers behind this game? To remind people about how surveillance to this degree shouldn’t be normal, and yet it’s fairly normalized nowadays. People’s doorbell gadgets keep video for ages and had it over to the cops without their consent. People joke about their Alexa/whatever being wiretaps, but there is a veneer of truth to it. Hells, people’s fridges can connect to the internet. Why is that a thing. 

In the AC world, at least at the time Brotherhood was made, the very thought of that shit is … kind of unthinkable? Or at the least, freaky as fuck and shouldn’t happen. Early on in Brotherhood, Rebecca makes a comment about how they need to hide underground because Abstergo taps into all the cell towers, and they can basically listen in to anyone they like. And yet, that’s not too far off from what we have now. 

I dunno. I’m probably overthinking it, slash being paranoid, but… it’s just something that I’ve been chewing on for a couple days as I’ve been trying to articulate this post. What do you do when the horrible dystopian shit of a video game made 10 years ago is actually coming about?