#potent. this way? and. it contrasts really well with how selfless (at some point in his life very literally) fark is. and how confident in

[naggingatlas]

i looove putting spark over songs about like heroes and saving the world (tom cardy's 'level clear', uncle outrage's 'saved the world' <- nice voice hc for him!. and 'my superhero movie'.) when he like. Did. Not : ) funney.

[twitchesandstitches]

With a few Star Wars asks answered and some stories under my belt, I figured I should approach Star Wars stuff. Now, the majority of it is pretty easy to figure out: the Empire would be just one of many autocratic nations, with it being part of the Ringers, led by a secretive cabal of Sith lords who rule it and use puppet rulers. Most of the canon human characters are aliens, since its implausible to imagine humans or human aliens being THAT in charge without something going on there. The First Order would be a front organization that acts as a black ops of sorts, doing the really awful things so they can look better, and also assign their most nationalist and monstrous members to.

The Republic would still be around and be a very large - if inefficient, but benign - galactic republic in the mold of the Roman Republic, with some aspects of the Iroquois government model; several people that represent each major polity (planets, space stations, fleets, what have you) meet and debate on behalf their people in a large council that must make consensus to determine anything, with many checks and balances. They are very diverse and recently formed. The Alliance/Resistance would instead be their military arm, but in practice are peacemakers that are well liked and greatly dislike being thought of as soldiers in any sense.

The Sith do not have the rule of two here, as it works poorly in a large enough setting. They are very fractious, but generally working together in a sense of ‘enlightened self interest’. The Jedi are largely as per the Expanded Universe in that they seek serenity and peace, and have a magic stoic attitude but opt not to cut themselves off from people.

But the big sticking point here is the Force. How does it work here?

Bear in mind that in the Crossthicc cosmology, magic is simply defined as the power of the soul to draw upon the energies of the multiverse and alter it somehow; the particulars are different for magic varieties. The Force is a direct drawing upon a massive pool of life force from all living things past and present, that is a major aspect of the mortal universes, a deeper level of magic that is genuinely alive. Force use is not an ‘born to only a few’ power, but a specific way of channeling this magic that is taught, in theory anyone could do it. In practice the skill to do so is rare.

Anyone can use the Force if instructed how, so prospective students are based more upon being amenable to the philosophies. But a major contrast from canon employs something of the ‘Force as ocean’ headcanon; the Force is attuned with your own emotions, and that of those the Force embodies, and this can do BAD THINGS to you. The Light Side is more of a shallow side, and safe to use. The Dark Side gives more power, but it can and will destroy you as your body rips itself apart with that corruption power.

The Dark Side is embodied by negative things. Hatred, senseless lust, pure selfishness, and using it will make those things consume you utterly. Hence, the most powerful Sith are horrifically corrupted, their bodies torn apart by the energies they channel.

This feedback effect applies to the Light Side, whom must rigorously control themselves or be overwhelmed by the potent feelings they experience; they would otherwise be reduced to tears at the beauty of the world around them, or awash in the perfect of all creation and the connection between all things. The Light Side enlightens. The Dark Side corrupts with the evil already in your heart. This may be the source of their names here. Rage, anger and similar emotions are perfectly light side in nature; it is things that consume you that becomes Dark.

Force users are MUCH more powerful here compared to canon; the kinds of powers demonstrated by Starkiller in the Force Unleashed games is typical of even an average practitioner. It will accelerate their growth beyond even normal power expansion, so that a giant force knight is often vastly larger than she would be expected to be. Even weak or unconscious users are incredibly gigantic and extremely busty.

The Jedi and Sith, for the most part, are not monolithic groups but many thousands of sub-schools with different techniques, outlooks and perspectives inspired by the same basic philosophies of their founders. The primary distinction is that Jedi philosophy implores one towards selflessness and altruism (at the cost of personal satisfaction or even basic needs), while Sith behavior is implicitly self-destructive, brutal and oppresses all those around them. Sith may not be evil, but they follow a path which constantly is kicking them down the slippery slope.

[owl-eyed-woman]

Attack on Titan Season 2 Episode Reviews - Episode 4 (Episode 29)

This week, it’s finally time for some pay-off. With the boring (but necessary details) set up last week, this episode can focus on tone, character and tension, giving its conflict all the development it needs to soar.  

After briefly re-establishing this episode’s major set piece as titans surround the tower, we flashback two hours before this battle begins. The first chunk of the episode focuses on giving context to this conflict and the character threads that will come into play. But more than this, by first placing us in the midst of a life-threatening struggle, our cognizance of this coming conflicts causes a potent feeling of anticipation and tension to pervade these flashback scenes.

In this calm moment before the storm, the 104th cadet corps finally have time to ponder the perplexing situation they’ve found themselves in and, more importantly, establish their understanding of their world and its mysteries. Despite being (ostensibly) safe, they are unable to rid themselves of the uneasiness caused by the day’s discoveries. Christa vocalises the question on everybody’s mind; if the wall is intact, where are the titans coming from?

Though we, the audience, have realised that humans within the wall are turning into titans, for realistic, believable writing, these characters need to come to this conclusion organically and earn this knowledge through sacrifice and toil.

Connie is the closest to understanding the truth behind the titans. In this moment of safety, Connie finally begins to process what exactly has happened to his hometown and, most importantly, his family. Recounting his experience, Connie postulates that, since there was no sign of violence, his family must have gotten out alive. Even as he asserts this to those around him, he can’t help but confess that the titan crushing his house reminded him of his mother.

Some part of Connie realises the horrifying truth of the matter but he is still unable to make the logical leap and fully comprehend its implications. He’s so close to grasping the truth that he can’t help but acknowledge the connection between the titan and his mother. But emotionally and intellectually, he is unable or perhaps unwilling to put the pieces together.

But maybe I’m reading too much into this situation. Ymir appears to think so as she starts raucously laughing at the suggestion that his mother is a titan and openly insults Connie for even considering it. It’s crude, it’s callous and it’s calculating. This reaction appears natural, but Ymir is a complicated character to say the least, and is doubtless concealing something. Is Ymir doing this as a kindness, as Reiner believes? Connie certainly forgets his troubles, as outrage replaces pensiveness.  Or, rather, is she concealing something, distracting Connie so he won’t connect the dots? I honestly don’t know at this point. While I want to believe this is a selfless act, Ymir’s motivations and feelings are so well obscured, either seem possible.

Finally, we learn something concrete about Ymir’s identity and what she might be hiding (and there’s more to come at the end of the episode too!) Whilst confronting Ymir about her treatment of Connie, Ymir casually passes Reiner a can of food. As he inspects it, Reiner realises that, while he doesn’t recognise the language on the can, Ymir can read it. Does this mean that Ymir is from outside of the wall?  

Before we can ponder this any further, we’re back to the present and the titans are here and very hungry. Now it’s time for the armed scouts to jump into battle and get into some good ol’ fashioned titan slaying. While the armed scouts hold off the titans outside, our 104th cadet corps are given a daunting task; as they are useless without their ODM gear, they must ensure that no titans get into the tower by barricading the doors and defending themselves to the best of their abilities.

From this point onwards, AOT really hones in on the horror aspects of its premise, as the next chunk of the episode becomes a tight little collection of horror set-pieces. The conceit itself is classic horror; a small group of people trapped in an enclosed space where they must contend with quintessential human fears, specifically their own disempowerment, isolation and vulnerability. Essential to this horror dynamic is the suffocating feeling that any success is meaningless and momentary, as they are ultimately powerless against the force that seeks to destroy them.

This genre shift is accentuated by AOT’s measured use of cinematic language and pacing. As Reiner rushes ahead to investigate if a titan has entered the building, separating from the group, the music shifts from more typical action fare to foreboding silence. As he opens the door, rather than immediately revealing the room, the camera remains on Reiner’s face, heightening the suspense by depriving the audience of clear information as to the whereabouts of the threat. While the next shot confirms the titan’s presence, dread only increases as its sinister and uncanny smile, showing off his teeth and gums, suggests a type of disturbing excitement about what is coming next. The heretofore slow pace suddenly cuts off, as the titan lunges just as Reiner closes the door. As Reiner is about to be crushed in the titan’s grasp, time slows down, lingering on his thoughts and emotions as he confronts his death, selling to the audience that this could very well be his end.  

Luckily, Reiner dodges at the last moment. Through quick-thinking and co-operation, they are able to defeat the titan, crushing it with a cannon. However, a door is destroyed in the process, decreasing the number of barriers that keep them and the titans separate. Considering this episode’s structure more generally though, its overarching conflict is characterised by this type of war of attrition, where each small victory prolongs their survival while simultaneously weakening them and ultimately bringing their inevitable doom ever closer. To survive in the moment, something of use must be sacrificed, such as a weapon or a door, further disempowering them as a whole and heightening the fear and tension.

At this point, everything is going as well as it possibly could in such a dire situation; the scouts have killed off most of the titans and the door has been successfully barricaded. Just as they begin to feel complacent, the beast titan catapults rocks at the tower, killing two soldiers, and sets another horde of titans on the tower. The power dynamic shifts in the titan’s favour, as the humans start to lose this war of attrition and the end seems nigh.  

In this final part of the episode, with our characters facing the prospect of their own death, the over-arching theme of this episode becomes startlingly apparent: death through heroic sacrifice. In war stories, this type of death is frequently idealised as perhaps the most noble and selfless way to go. By contrast, AOT interrogates this idea, challenging any character who idealises such a fate.

Take Reiner: after seeing someone sacrifice their life to save his own as a child, it’s clear that he views it as his duty to do the same. For Reiner, a true soldier is always ready to die in the place of another. With this mindset, he unflinchingly charges ahead, putting his life on the line for those around him.

While his actions are undeniably brave, in the context of these scenes this impulse is either entirely unnecessary or ultimately unhelpful. Without any hesitation, Reiner was prepared to hurl a titan and himself along with it out of a window. Only Connie’s relatively simple solution is able to stop him. Reiner is practically blinded by his devotion to the ideal of sacrificing himself for others, complicating situations and missing other, less deadly solutions. In the end, what ultimately ensures his friends’ survival is not Reiner’s willingness to sacrifice himself unnecessarily, but rather teamwork, communication and ingenuity.  

Christa desires a heroic death as well, and is outright criticised by Ymir because of it. Christa has always been one of the most selfless characters in the show, but this episode fascinatingly complicates this, challenging our perception of Christa, and perhaps Christa’s understanding of herself. Dying for others appears to be, on the surface, an inherently selfless act – I mean, you literally sacrifice yourself for the good of others. What’s more selfless than that? However, in Christa’s case, it’s important to consider not just the act itself, but rather the motivations behind it. Examining these underlying motivations, AOT shows us how even ostensibly altruistic or selfless actions can hide a selfish, self-serving core.

Fundamentally, Christa is drawn to this type of death because she wishes to be seen as a hero. Yes, heroically sacrificing herself may save lives, but this is not the impetus behind this act for her. The fact that she might save lives through her sacrifice is, ultimately, incidental to her motivation, rather than central. Instead, Christa places herself at the centre of this act of sacrifice, with anyone she might aid functioning primarily as tool to give herself meaning. While heroic sacrifice as an ideal is perceived as inherently selfless, through Christa, we see here how easily this ideal is corrupted by selfish motivations and self-serving desires.

Finally, through Gelgar’s death, the show sees a heroic sacrifice through to its inevitable conclusion and shows us the suffering and emptiness at its core. After hours of killing titans, heroically holding them off, Gelgar is finally faced with the prospect of his own death. In this moment, his doesn’t feel pride that he will die a ‘noble’ death; instead, he is filled with remorse that he couldn’t have one last drink. For Gelgar, the abstract ideal of a heroic sacrifice and the supposed honour that comes with it is ultimately worthless compared to the small but tangible pleasures that we find in life. What more is a heroic sacrifice than just another way to die horribly?

There is no reprieve from the cruelty of death for Gelgar. Seeing the bottle of alcohol he discarded earlier, he shakily goes for a drink, hoping to be sated in his last moments. No such comfort comes though, as the alcohol was used up earlier to treat Reiner’s minor injury – a perfect metaphor for the emptiness of such a death. As he is grabbed by a titan, Gelgar petulantly laments the cruelty of this world before he slams his head against a wall and is unceremoniously knocked out – he doesn’t even to get to go out with dignity. Through Gelgar’s end, AOT strips away any pretence of nobility or heroism in death and shows it for what it truly is – unfair, unhappy and cruel.

In every possible way, this episode tears down the ideal of heroically sacrificing your life for others. This could have so easily been an uncomplicated episode, honouring the deaths of noble soldiers. Instead, this episode challenges this idea, refusing both the characters and the viewer any easy empowerment and instead acknowledging the dark, unpalatable reality of all death, no matter how noble it may seem. In the end, AOT shows us that heroic sacrifice isn’t noble or selfless or meaningful; it’s foolhardy, it’s selfish and it’s ultimately empty.

In the face of all this, with the senior soldiers dead and the cadets almost certainly doomed, Ymir takes action. Taking Connie’s knife, she says that she going to fight. Unlike Christa or Reiner though, Ymir is not planning to die; she is fighting so they can live.

Before she takes the plunge, Ymir entreats Christa to remember their promise and live a life she can be proud of as the sun rises gloriously behind them – it’s a sincere, hopeful moment between Christa and Ymir in a dark, dark episode. Then, jumping off the tower, we finally discover what Ymir has been hiding all this time, as she cuts her hand and begins to transform into a titan…

AND then, the episode ends because of course it does. Now that’s a cliff-hanger!

Overall, this was a super compelling episode on all levels. It contains tense scenes, thrilling action and some genuinely thought-provoking ideas. This is AOT at its best.

[whatdoyouexpectthistime]

Her Love In The Zombie Apocalypse: Goodbye Goto

Author’s Note: This is the result of a dream I had, and I am absolutely unapologetic for dropping the Instructors in a zombie ridden Tokyo. Who knows... maybe this won’t just be a oneshot?

Happiness doesn’t last, does it?

In the perfect world, we grow to be strong, learn to believe in ourselves and to have the courage of our convictions, and finally meet someone with whom we can be that person – in both strength and weakness.

When you find that person, don’t let the small, the insignificant things come between you.

Embrace.

Embrace your differences and each other and don’t let go. Fight hard and with everything you’ve got.

Because you never truly know when the dream will end.

Panting and laboured beneath the weight of my backpack, I struggle to keep pace. Kaga and Soma are already pulling aside our barricade at the east end of the academy, while Shinonome and Ishigami stand alert for approaching threats.

At my side – always at my side – Seiji remains in step.

His face is smeared with the horror of his narrow escape, much like the rest of us.

But one of us fell, one of us didn’t really escape at all, the others just don’t know it yet.

Seiji doesn’t know it yet.

“Get the hell in here!” Kaga barks, but his curt urgency is no exaggeration now.

The threat is real, however disbelieving we were at the beginning, the truth has well and truly sunk in.

“Christ,” he huffs as Seiji and I pass him, and he and Soma begin to reassemble the barricade protecting our fortress home. “Could you possibly find a smaller pack?”

“Screw you,” I gasp, stumbling into the foyer and sliding the bag from my aching shoulders.

It hits the floor with a heavy clunk, the cans within part of the bounty we’d retrieved from several convenience stores much further from the academy than we have ever venture since the incident. Those closest to the academy have already been stripped bear, and it was the necessity to eat, and to provide for those who also shelter with us, that prompted a much more dangerous run to distant sources.

Roaring in my ears, my pulse refuses to slow, and Seiji looks me over with worry.

“Are you all right?” he asks quietly, leaning against the wall beside me, peering at me with those gunmetal eyes haunted by deep concern.

“Mm,” I nod, giving him a weary smile.

Anything to ease his troubles.

Anything to lighten this heart I love.

Anything to protect it from breaking.

But I can’t.

“That was intense,” I add, as Ishigami joins us.

“Everyone okay?” he asks, the blandness of his expression a stark contrast to the dangle of gore hanging from the left side of his glasses.

“Yeah,” Seiji confirms, and I nod also.

Liar.

But they take my word for it, this trust is what has kept us alive this long.

There are untold numbers of dead in Tokyo, some permanently, some now roaming, shambling, looking for prey – because it all happened so quickly, and people didn’t know how fast the infection spread, how virulent it was.

We still don’t know how it started. Even law enforcement was woefully unprepared, and communication came too slow, too late.

“Let’s get this stuff to storage,” Seiji prompted, shouldering his pack, before collecting mine.

“I’m not completely useless,” I argue, but I’m playful in my scorn.

Oh how many small things has Seiji done for me? When was the exact moment his selflessness won over my heart? I have no doubt, he would gladly give his life in exchange for mine – but this time, he can’t.

 When twilight drifts, everyone goes to their posts. We check our defences, reinforce each barricade, look for weaknesses and plug them, and check night-watch rosters.

Glancing down the list I note who is meant to be at each guard position. It looks as if I’m just doing my job, but in reality I need to know who is where for a very different reason.

Shivering, I pull my jacket more closely around me, and eventually meet up with Seiji in our room.

Our room.

It was going to be a little house, with a yard big enough for a dog and a small vegetable patch. That was our shared dream.

Now, he is all that I have left of that dream, and…

“You look tired,” he tells me, gently taking my face between broad palms. “You’re cold.”

“It’s a clear night,” I point out, leaning into his touch, trying to memorise the sensation. “It’s freezing out.”

“Well, it was a long day,” he smiles, carefully sliding his fingers into my hair and running them all the way to the tips. “Early night?”

“Gladly,” I exhale, hoping he can’t tell I’m gritting my teeth behind this smile.

He doesn’t know I organised a pack of bare essentials while he was showering, and hid it from sight. He’s treating me like he always has – the centre of his world.

Mouth dry, maybe from the gathering nervousness of what I must do, or maybe… I can’t tell if the jackhammer pounding against the inside of my skull is part of my transition, or the spread of guilt and grief and emotional pain so potent it’s a wonder I can stand, let alone smile like nothing is wrong.

And everything is wrong, because the throb in my forearm, hidden by the long sleeves of my flannel pajamas, is a harbinger of my imminent death, and horrifying resurrection.

And I can’t be here when that happens.

Just the same, I snuggle under the blankets, and as Seiji is reaching over to turn off the lamp, I wrap my uninjured arm around him, and press myself mercilessly against his back.

I want to feel the imprint of his body against mine, my fingers, my hands, I want to remember every taut undulation of his chest, and the steady rhythm of his breath.

“Your hands are still icy,” he grumbles, but hugs my forearm tightly.

And I pray he doesn’t hear my breath catch and stick in my throat, or feel the desperation to withhold a sob in the tension of my muscles.

“You always warm me up,” I whisper, hardly a breath at all, and he gives my hand a squeeze.

Nothing in the world would give me greater peace, than to remain here – but if I stay, even until morning… I might truly destroy him. Instead, I listen to the sounds of him, inhale the scent of him, until he falls asleep.

And then I have to exercise the absolute, utmost of my willpower to separate – softly so as not to wake him, when all I really want is for him to wake suddenly, grab me, pull me down and wrap himself around me.

I am my own person, but I would gladly let him consume me like tht.

Cautiously I cover him back up, but the slight motion of Seiji’s head causes his fringe to flop over his closed eyelids.

So innocent.

And yet so fierce in my defence – and this is why I have to go.

He would make excuses, drag it out, maybe even beg me to stay even while knowing my fate is a foregone conclusion.

Go. GO! You have to go. For his sake.

As quietly as I can, I retrieve my backpack. There is hardly anything in it, because let’s face it, I’m not going to be needing human supplies for much longer.

Then there is the letter.

Saying goodbye, face to face, seeing him break… I can’t. And it’s not arrogance to think he will, because his heart and mine are one and mine…

… is being torn apart.

On the pillow, still fresh with the impression of my head, I leave my final missive to him, and bite down so hard on my lower lip, it bleeds. These feet won’t move but they have to.

Go.

My insides are hollowed out, a gaping, weeping wound very nearly prompting a sob when in my retreat from out room I spy Domo-kun.

It’s so stupid that Domo-kun should symbolise our love somehow, but for some reason that gift to me left a lasting impression. And even in the chaos, he stayed with us as a constant.

“Goodbye Domo-kun,” I whisper, slipping out into the hall and closing the door on all I ever wanted.

BONUS:

 “Cold,” Goto murmured, rolling over and groping across the bed for his favourite source of warmth.

It was not so jarring an awakening, for he didn’t yet know the truth. His wife could be any number of places by far more obvious than having snuck out in the night to meet her grizzly fate.

So he clutched at the blankets and tucked them under his chin, and in doing so disturbed the piece of paper beside him.

Rubbing his eyes with the back of one hand, he plucked the missive from the pillow and unfolded it.

And dread began to form, dread that turn swiftly into a panic without description.

(Author/Narrator’s note: I blame @nitelotus​ for the following recording, after she made fun of me for crying as I wrote this. At least I don’t charge stupid amounts for voiced stories right?)

-Click to LISTEN to her letter-

My dearest Seiji,

We said, till death do us part – but, I’m not sure where undeath fits into that.

I am sorry.

I made a mistake and now… the cost of it must be paid. And this is the one time you can’t save me, no matter how many times I call you name, the enemy now inside me cannot be defeated.

You will be angry that I didn’t tell you, that I didn’t… give you a chance to say goodbye, but leaving like this is the lesser of two terrible evils.

I will turn, it’s inevitable, and I don’t want your last memory of me to be as a monster.

Please remember the brush of my fingertips against your forehead.

Please remember the warmth of my body curled against yours.

Please, remember the passionate heat, and the bliss of our every union.

And let me save you this time – let me stand, even at this distance, between you and having to see me as anything other than the woman you took to be your wife.

That woman will soon be consumed, but until the very end I will fix you in my mind and heart, grip you relentlessly, because you have taught me what it means to be loved so unconditionally, so completely; I will not be afraid.

Loving you, and being loved by you, has been a privilege I’m not sure I ever really deserved, but you have been the absolute, the most precious gift I ever received.

I love you.

Your dearest wife.

 The bed beside him was cold.

When in the night had she left him?

He knew she was gone but could not control his panic. It exploded inside him, could not be contained, and it drove him from their room in his pinstriped pajamas. With abandon he threw himself down the corridor, blind almost but for a target in the distance he had no way of seeing.

Morning greeted him with a slap of winter, but Goto struggled through the haze of his desperate breaths lingering in the air, and staggered like a drunkard to the outer most manned position.

“Did you see her?!” he shouted.

“Lieutenant?” the young man queried, looking very confused.

“My wife!” Goto gasped. “Did you see her? Did she leave this way?”

But the pair stationed there could tell him nothing, nor could any of the other outer guards, and finally, her last words to him clutched in his bloodless fist, he sat, in the dirt, trembling.

Why couldn’t he see her face? Why could he only see the back of her, her retreating figure moving with laboured steps through the undead who paid her no mind?

Losing her was… there were simply no words, but to know she had gone alone with such pain in her heart was a wound to him like no other.

 And all he could do was sit, and stare off into the distance.