#seriously its such a delight to get comments or art or even just kudos and bookmarks. you're all wonderful

[asummersday]

i'm being So Optimistic here but i hope to post chapter 4 either tonight (if my motivation carries me through the middle bit + editing) or some time tomorrow.

[forestwater87]

I'm screaming. I just realized this was the legendary Forest Water from Ao3, the creator of the fandom last names Santos and Greenwood, and I didn't know all this time?! What?! I can't actually believe it. Your stuff is legendary! I really enjoy your fanfiction, and you're a great creator. Any advice for a fanfic writer who starts to write a Gwenvid longfic? Any tips on how to become a sucessful fandom memeber? Sorry this is so long, I just really enjoy your work!

These two happened to dovetail really nicely, so I wanted to respond to them in a single (very long) post. I’ve talked a little about getting started writing in the past, but specifically about writing Gwenvid? That’s a little different, and interesting to explore.

I think, anyway. But I always find Gwenvid interesting.

1. Thank you! 

I don’t consider myself especially famous or special -- certainly not anymore, when my updates to my flagship fic are annual at best -- so it’s a little weird that there are people looking at me like that. However, it’s also really touching and encouraging, so I’m at a loss for words. Not sure how to respond to such kind comments, so . . . you know, thanks.

2. Writing Gwenvid -- especially longfic

Here’s the thing: There isn’t a single fic I’ve written that I expected to become long. The first “Tigger & Eeyore” was supposed to be like 5 chapters and then ballooned into 14 and a sequel (which it’s now looking like is going to explode into its own sequel, so yikes). 

There’s a reason they’re called plotbunnies: they multiply like crazy. So if you have a single-shot idea or shortfic that you’re not sure will have legs, just start writing it. It might end up wrapping up rather quickly and you can move on to the next idea without it hanging over your head, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it becomes something much larger totally organically.

Also, keep your plots kind of . . . vague? At least, in my experience I’ve found that helps. A generic idea of the world you want to build and a couple set pieces (i.e., major conflicts or story beats) gives you room to play around without pressure to make it “add up to” something. I’ve never written a fic that had a story in the first 4-5 chapters, and that’s how I like it. It’ll . . . just sort of materialize, while you’re exploring the world.

I mean, if you want to write a tightly-paced epic with a twisty, intricate plot, then you’re going to want to find an author who does that sort of thing. My stories tend to be a lot more meandering.

OH! Also get really flowery with your language. Eats up word counts like Wheaties.

Okay, but Gwenvid specifically: if you want to be mostly canon-compliant, the big thing is that we only see them in the context of this one improbably long summer. There are years of story before and after that point that we’ll never get to see, and I think it’s really interesting. (Especially the before part; I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone write a “prequel” to Camp Camp, but how fun is that idea???) When it comes to “fill in the blanks” fanfic writing, it’s really nice to have a story, relationship, and world with so many blanks. There’s a lot you can do just by writing about what they’re up to the rest of the year.

As for AUs: go nuts. Fucking go wild, you funky lil person. Groundhog Day. Ghostbusters. Lost in Translation. Movies that don’t star Bill Murray, probably. Find a straight couple and make them Gwenvid, and go goddamn bonkers with the possibilities. Find a world with Gwenvid-like characters and make them Gwenvid. The possibilities are literally endless. 

3. Fandom engagement and being a BNF

Huh. Not sure where to go with this one.

Like I said, I don’t consider myself much of a BNF (that’s “big-name fan,” for those of you who might have a life outside of tumblr) -- certainly not anymore. And honestly, becoming “popular” in this economy fandom isn’t . . . necessarily going to be super easy.

I mean, don’t get me wrong! The fandom isn’t dead by any means; people are still writing, and still being read. But if you look at the track record over time:

Average kudos counts of Forestwater’s fics by year:

2016: 574

2017: 277

2018: 79

2019: 60

2020: 50

(if you ever wondered why I had a serious emotional crisis about the quality of my writing and general popularity in 2018 and 2019, that drop should tell you a lot)

Now, some of this is certainly my fault. The most important thing when it comes to fandom success is engagement: the more you write, the more attention you’re going to get. If you can stick to a regular update schedule, you’re going to be on the front page and in the top of the tags, and people will see your stuff and be more likely to read it. And attention is self-generating, because the more kudos and hits you have, the more people are going to check out your work just to see what the big deal is. So getting laid off and deeply depressed, then not updating at a time when the fandom was already beginning a pretty steady downward trajectory anyway . . . was not my best move in terms of relevance.

And engagement doesn’t necessarily have to mean updates, by the way! (Though you should update regularly if you want the attention.) Sharing headcanons, answering asks, starting fandom drama and ship wars . . . that’s all the kind of thing that establishes you as an authority; even if people think you’re wrong, they’ll think you’re someone whose opinion is worth disagreeing with, if they see you mouthing off in the tags enough. 

I’m not confident this is a good call, but Snowqueens Icedragon didn’t get massive fandom success by not starting flame wars, is all I’m saying. 

If you have the spoons to answer questions, people will want to ask them. No one wants to talk to someone who won’t reply to them. The most popular artists and authors are always going to be the ones who interact with the fandom the most. Higher output, more attention, more praise. I’m not saying it’s fair -- in fact, it very well might not be -- but that’s the nature of the beast.

Also, play to the fandom. Camp Camp fans want to see dadvid. They want to see dan/vid. They want to see Max-centric content, and they probably want it to be angsty. They want to see self-inserts dating David. If you can give them some of that stuff (none of which is inherently bad, to be clear, nor is it inherently good; it’s just what’s popular, and tbh if you can cram it all in one fic that’d be amazing), you have the benefit of giving people exactly what they want. 

To be clear, don’t write about things that don’t inspire you; aside from it being a soul-crushing endeavor, it’s noticeable when someone’s heart just isn’t in it, and it’s even harder to keep those regular updates. But if the things you’re passionate about happen to be the things the fandom really wants to see at the moment, then you’re much closer to riding the kudos train, my friendo.

But here’s the thing: even if you do everything right, you might still get screwed.

Some of this is just due to the fact that Camp Camp is always a dead fandom in the off-seasons, and we don’t know how long this current off-season is going to last. Hell, we don’t have to look at me for this:

This is “How to Foster an Asshole” by emiartse. It’s one of the fandom’s most popular fics, with a whopping 962 kudos. Hot damn, look at that engagement. That’s a fucking fic right there!

This is the sequel, which has 122 kudos. Nothing to sneeze at, to be sure -- I think we’d all be delighted to have 122 kudos -- but even the general tendency of sequels to have less attention than a series debut doesn’t entirely explain such a precipitous drop. And emiartse is doing everything right! This is dadvid! And momgwen! It’s just as well-written as the first; it’s not like we suddenly experience a decrease in quality or anything. It came right on the heels of the first one ending, and the updates have been more or less like clockwork, in keeping with the previous story.

So what changed?

Well, HTFAA was first published in 2019, right on the heels of Season 4′s finale and when fandom hype was pretty high. HTAAA was published in September 2020, during this whole “world pandemic and every political disaster all at once” thing that’s got us all fucked up -- and especially, during a period where we all knew Camp Camp wasn’t coming back for the year, and maybe not ever.

It’s . . . not a great time to be a writer for Camp Camp if your goal is popularity. I mean, it’s never a great time to be a writer if your goal is popularity -- consider the tragic difference in notes between ellohcee’s gorgeous art and their equally-excellent writing just for comparison -- but it’s especially tough now. If you really want to be a huge name in the fandom, my suggestion is to travel back in time to 2016 and establish yourself as the pioneer of something (seriously, it can be anything; there was basically nothing in the fandom at that time. Every idea was a new one). 

So . . . what do we do when we can’t be popular? Maybe you don’t want to chain yourself to a strict update schedule, or write the twelve-thousandth iteration of the most popular fandom tropes, or you exist in 2021 when everything is terrible and no one cares about a web cartoon series. What happens then?

4. Do it anyway.

I know, I know -- that sounds hella cheesy. “Write because you love it, not for attention” is one of those statements that everyone rolls their eyes at, because seriously? Please. What’s even the point of sharing something you write if no one reads it?

Well . . . because you made it. Because it’s something that wouldn’t exist without you, and because even though there are such a tiny number of readers in a very small, very dead fandom -- those people still exist. And seeing what you wrote will make them happy. And if they have the spoons, they’ll let you know that you made them happy, which will make you happy.

I haven’t updated my major fic in a year -- haven’t updated any writing in several months. But what keeps me going is the excitement that my ideas bring me, and the pride I feel in watching them come to life. It’s like giving a gift to someone; I get really nervous and giddy whenever I post a sentence.

And does it suck when it feels like your present goes unappreciated? Yeah. If you write the first chapter of your awesome long-form Gwenvid fic and it gets like 5 or 3 or even zero notes, that’s a huge bummer. That hurts a lot, and it can crush your self-esteem worse than even the most vicious hate. But your fic isn’t going to just be around for the few hours or days that you’re watching the engagement. It’s going to be there, growing as you update it or just sitting happily in its tags, and someone is going to find it.

Your story is going to be someone’s favorite fic. I promise. 

And hell, let’s make it my favorite fic! 

If you post something -- you know what, even if you post something in a trope or ship I hate, or a fandom I’m not in, doesn’t even have to just be Camp Camp; times are hard right now and we gotta support each other -- send me the link in a personal message. (Don’t tag me, I won’t see it. I never see anything on this terrible, terrible site.) I’ll like it; I’ll give it kudos. I’ll probably even share it*, because we’re going through the lean times in this fandom. And we’re writers, so the lean times are extra lean; it’s the bone-and-dust times. 

*Okay, but I reserve the right to not support someone’s work that makes me very uncomfortable. I’ll share things I don’t personally stan, but I’m not gonna platform your “why Hitler was good, actually” essay disguised as a fanfic or anything. My 6 followers deserve better.

Write something that excites you, and then tell me about it. If you need help brainstorming, tell me about that too. 

I might not have the spoons to keep this up for a prolonged period of time, but I’ll do what I can and you’ll do what you can and together we’ll . . . idk, do something. I’m losing the thread of my great inspirational speech here.

Uhhhh TL;DR let’s just do the dang thing. If we fail we all fail together. Yay team!

[thetriggeredhappy]

Today is a special day

Today, March 21st, marks the one year anniversary of the first chapter of Running Blind being posted, all the way over on Fanfiction.net!

Balloons, confetti, et cetera.

okay but seriously, a year. a whole year. fun fact, i did the math on it, and since the first chapter of RB i’ve written and published a total of 165,412 words. that’s several words, y’all. that’s roughly 453 words per day, or 19 words per hour. that is so many words.

over the course of the last year, there have been some... life changes, on my end. a lot of them. maybe not many that i’m completely comfortable just posting on the internet for everyone to see, but suffice to say, a lot has changed. i live somewhere different, have a job, applied to a college, and made many, many wonderful friends. i’ve grown as a writer, quite a lot. i’ve grown as a person, at least a little. a lot is very different, and a lot of the different is overwhelmingly good.

i don’t, like, do new years’ resolutions, and usually the only time of year i use to reflect on everything that’s happened is around my birthday. but—and i’m not joking—Running Blind... really, genuinely changed a lot about me. i got a lot of confidence in my skills, met some people through my writing who have influenced me a lot, learned a thing or two about writing for validation vs writing for practice vs writing out of a sense of obligation. no matter where i go from here, Running Blind (and subsequent fic) has dictated a whole year of my life, at the very least as background noise. that’s... significant. in a way that’s now even beyond being vaguely embarrassing and is really, genuinely a point of pride.

i’m proud of Running Blind. i won’t speak to its objective value as a piece of writing, but... i’m proud of it. i really, genuinely think that it’s good. i reread parts of it fairly often. if i get the time, i would like to print it out to keep a physical copy of it someday. it... it makes me happy. if i’ve done nothing else, i’ve made this piece of writing, and i really, truly enjoy it. really, i do.

maybe in another year, i’ll have written something else “significant”. something to upstage Running Blind in my heart. or maybe not, maybe that’s the last thing i’ll ever write to make me feel the way i felt hitting the “post” button of the final chapter, or reading that final chapter a year later. i can’t possibly know that. what i do know is that no matter what i do, it’s influenced me. it really has.

and apparently it’s influenced other people too. that’s still shocking to me—and i’m not being modest, i’m being honest. i never expected it to get so much attention or become a whole thing. i wasn’t attempting to write A Whole Big Thing. i just wanted practice with writing from the point of view of a blind character to try and strengthen my non-visual writing since i was truly awful at it. and then this happened. and i couldn’t be more thankful.

i’m not joking when i say this—thank you, sincerely, thank you to each and every person who read my fanfic, who recommended it to others, who left a kudos or a comment or dropped an ask in my inbox or made me a piece of art (you know who you are). thank you.

i’ll see you in another year to potentially be sappy and wax poetic again. until then, i hope i continue to write good things.

some special thanks just off the top of my head: @justakittenatheart and @fullchildmentality01 and N, the people to originally read the very first draft, who encouraged me to write more and who liked the fact that i made sniper call scout “love” so much that i made it a theme. @wireskull and @drwowthathurt for the art you’ve made me and for being inspirations in the form of raw artistic skill and moral support. Noctis for your wonderful art just casually making my week, nyanbun for fairly recently commenting on every single chapter you absolute delight, ihatemondays and mymoa and deckofdragons for consistently being super cool people. Gee and Mayo and Orph and Obsol and Peach and Jensen and Mouse and Velvet and Shaggy and Meaghan and Nat and everyone else in the various discords for not skinning me alive just yet for being an animal. a huge one for Cornpony for being such an incredible writer in general and at Sniper/Scout specifically that i really really wanted to write them as a pairing and who nearly gave me a heart attack after commenting on my fic because that’s who i basically aspire to be as a writer i’m 0% joking i nearly died, as well as several other extremely talented people who had my head spinning when i found out they liked my content (including Dorky, modern renaissance painter and general coolkid, absolute legend, and i know i said this already but seriously blake you’re so COOL). thank all of you so so much, you’ve all made my day or even week at least once before, i appreciate you so so much!! and it’s now about 2 in the morning so i think it’s about time for me to go to sleep and stop being sappy. but seriously, thank you!! a million times, thank you!!

[emmaswanchoosesyou]

CSBB: Part of the Narrative (8/17)

Emma Swan just wants to write the follow-up to her bestselling debut novel, that’s all. But when she gets off to a rough start with her new editor, Killian Jones, she knows it’s not going according to plan. Then, an unexpected figure from Emma’s past reappears and life begins to mirror the crime thriller she’s penning. Suspicion and secrets abound–but love might too. A writer/editor AU with a thriller twist.

Rated E. Story warnings: sexual content, kidnapping, some gore, violence, and minor character death–not to mention salty language! On Ao3 here.

Chapter warnings: Profanity, discussions of past relationships and canon pregnancy-related issues, and some snogging.

I hope you all know that your comments and likes and kudos and reblogs have been cherished and squealed over. Thank you to all the wonderful peeps at @captainswanbigbang for all you’ve done to make this possible, and all the support you’ve given. Sophie @shady-swan-jones made the delightful banner and another photoset that I adore. Kayla @bleebug did some incredible art for the first and sixth chapters, which you can check out here and here. And all the love and thanks to Kris @sambethe for beta-ing this and making it a ton better.

[Ch. 1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Chapter 8

Emma comes clean to Killian about her past, and they bond during their second date.

Killian

Killian stared through the small window at the front of his oven, hoping the conversion to Fahrenheit hadn’t utterly destroyed his mother’s recipe for Lancashire hotpot. He stepped back and glanced out the window above the sink. Even through the dark, the grey of the clouds promised snow, and it was already colder than he’d like. So this would be perfect, provided it cooked properly.

In the meantime, this cooking adventure was distracting him from his nerves about the night’s plans with Emma. He knew they needed to talk--they truly did--but just the thought of seeing her filled his stomach with butterflies, in the best way. In a manly way, as he’d told Robin.

Aye, manly butterflies.

It had only been a few days since he had seen her, but he missed her. They had texted over the last few days, which had been pleasant--excellent, in fact--but it wasn’t the same as being in the same room as her, holding her in his arms or seeing the light in her eyes while she talked about the things she was passionate about.

He was just so…excited to see her again, to have dinner with her, to talk, to… snuggle. Or, perhaps more than snuggle. Either way, it would be good.

Obviously, they had a fairly heavy conversation ahead of them, but he was optimistic. In the days since their date, he hadn't heard from August. Nothing. Not a word. And, frankly, Killian was relieved. He was in no rush to hear from his current boss and former conspirator. He had actually emailed him the other day with an update from the next chapter Emma was working on. It was the exact sort of thing he should be talking to August about. The exact thing a publisher needed to hear in the earlier stages of developing a novel, and not what he had asked Killian to do.

And what a chapter it was! The story was starting to unfold, and Killian was hooked. They had finally met the protagonists, a social worker and the child she was trying to help get out of the foster care system.

He couldn't help but see the parallels to Emma's own life, and to Henry. And he was thrilled. Not only was Emma clearly drawing from her own experiences, but she was painting them vividly. It left Killian feeling he knew her a little better for it and knew it would draw others into the story.

A knock at the door interrupted Killian's musings, and he gave a sigh of relief. Not that he wasn't enjoying contemplating Emma and her story, but maybe the butterflies could actually settle down now that she was here.

"Just a minute," he called out, pulling the dish out of the oven. He straightened his vest over his shirt, ran a hand through his hair, and went to the door.

He opened it to find Emma's beautiful face, her small, crooked smile betraying how glad she was to see him too. She was carrying a bottle of wine and shifting her weight as she stood up on the tips of her toes, her nervous energy soothing him and putting him at ease even as his heart skipped a beat. At least he wasn't alone in this.

"Good evening, Swan. You look delightful," he said, brushing a quick kiss across her cheek and taking the wine from her.

Emma blushed, but eyed him hungrily. "You look good too." Then, her eyes drifted away from him as she sniffed at the air. "Okay, that smells fantastic."

He held the door open and motioned for her to come through. "Well, then come in and let's get us fed."

He watched her as she moved past him, her cream-colored sweater and figure-hugging pants making her look delectable. The style made her seem soft, approachable, while also unaccountably badass when coupled with her knee-high boots, and he couldn't wait to continue what they had started on Friday.

Killian shook his head and idly thumbed at his mouth, hoping he hadn't been drooling. He let his prosthetic hand drop to the small of her back, guiding her into his flat. "Would you like the tour, or would you like to eat first?"

She turned and offered him a smile. "Tell me what that delicious smell is, and then I want a tour. I know your tour of my place was interrupted, but I'm curious."

He smirked at her as she peered over his shoulder back into the kitchen. "Then all in good time, love. Our dinner will be a Lancashire hotpot. My mother's recipe."

Emma softened. "That's great--what's in it?" Stepping back and turning to stand beside him, she kept her eyes on him.

"Traditionally, it's made with lamb and local vegetables, but I used beef, as lamb… well, it takes a fair hand to cook, and I’ve only got the one. I also didn't imagine slaving in the kitchen for hours would fall under the terms of 'casual' we agreed upon for tonight."

"Well, regardless, I can't wait to try it. Now show me your lair," she said, grinning at him.

He raised an eyebrow and set the wine down on the counter. "Lair? Do you see me as the sort that would have lair?"

She waved his question aside airily. "Lair, berth, dwelling...whatever."

"For starters, my 'lair' has this kitchen, and a cozy living room," Killian said, gesturing to the room in question.

Emma smiled, eyeing his well-worn and well-loved chair, the one he had brought across the ocean in spite of--no, because of--its odd appearance.

"At some point I'll tell you about my chair, that is if you tell me about yours," she said, turning away from the chair to face him.

"Deal."

"Shall we continue?" she asked, starting down the short hallway.

"Aye, we shall. As you can see, this is the hallway, and the bathroom. And through here is my bedroom."

She followed him into the room in question, running her eyes over the grey and navy striped coverlet, the sea chest in the corner, and the anchor and ship painting on the wall, the room’s feel neat and organized. Emma looked around almost wistfully. "It's very… nautical. And grown-up."

"What were you expecting? A single bed with posters from popular films?"  His gentle tone belied the biting words a little.

"No, I just… well, my place stays fairly orderly too, but that's because I don't keep much there. And I totally drop my clothes on the floor."

Killian laughed. "Normally that might be the case here, but there's this lovely writer who promised to come over for dinner, so I may have put things in order."

She smirked at him. "Hmm, feeling hopeful, were you?"

"Always," he said seriously, meeting her eyes.

She didn't look away.

&&&

After they finished their meal, Killian poured them each another glass of the wine Emma had brought.

She smiled up at him and took a slow sip. "That was delicious. Your mom's recipe totally holds up."

"Doesn't it? I'm glad it worked out over here, even with the adjustments to American ovens and measuring systems," he said happily.

"Maybe sometime you'll show me how to make it?"

He paused, seeing the hopeful look on her face. His heart beat faster, the idea of working side-by-side with Emma in his small kitchen--in either of their kitchens, really--the very opposite of vexing. "Certainly, if that's something you wish to do."

"I...I really do," she said, reaching across the table and taking his prosthetic in her hand. He patted her hand with his and let her continue. "I...so, yeah, I really enjoy spending time with you. I also realized that I want to get to know my son, and it seems like a lot all at once."

"I would hope you wouldn't consider me a burden, love," he said, trying to keep his features schooled, not wanting to place any sort of expectations on her even as he felt a twinge of disappointment.

She looked surprised for a moment, then rushed to reassure him. "No--Killian, not at all. But I think there are things you should know before we make any decisions." Her brow was furrowed in concern.

“I’d be happy to listen to whatever you want to tell me.”

“I know you were upset that I hadn’t told you. I could tell the other night, and I--just, well--I don’t owe you my story just because you told me yours,” Emma said, her voice low and intense.

Ouch. He knew her words were harsh, but also fair. He considered his own before nodding, acknowledging his silent display of frustration from the other night. He lifted his hands at her in supplication. “You’re right. You don’t owe me anything, but know that I would like to get to know you, and your story. So when you are ready to share, know that I’m all ears.”

She smiled at him, accepting his unspoken apology. “I was sixteen. I’d been in the foster care system my entire life, and I’d just run away from my last home. The Dixons...well, Mr. Dixon was interested in me in ways he shouldn’t have been, and Mrs. Dixon didn’t believe me. So I ran.”

“Christ, Emma, that’s awful,” he said, reaching for her hand again.

She didn’t pull away, instead she threaded her fingers through his and took a deep breath before continuing. “I went to Portland. The one in Oregon, that is. It seemed as far away as I could get. And, well, I was a sixteen-year-old with no skills, so I stole. Usually just small stuff, but I won’t lie, I was stealing more and bigger things as time went on.”

Killian rubbed his thumb over her wrist and nodded at her, encouraging her to go on.

“So I saw a car. A yellow VW Bug...”

“The one you have now? You still have a car that you stole?!” His voice was incredulous but tinged with amusement, and his eyebrows skyrocketed up toward his hairline.

“I’ll get to that, Jones, but yes,” she said, the exasperation in her tone lightened by the smile she gave him. “Anyway, the car was old enough that I knew it wouldn’t have anything too fancy to deal with in terms of alarms or locking mechanisms. So I got in and got the car going.”

“Next time I need to hotwire a car, I know who to turn to,” he teased.

Emma smacked his hand in mock reproof. “Nope, you’d pick something new and shiny. It’d be awful, and we’d so get caught.”

“I’ll have you know that I was a very good thief as a twelve-year-old,” he said, smirking at her.

She shook her head in response before taking a deep breath and continuing. “Well, I got in the car, and then I got the shock of my life when some guy popped up from the backseat.”

“Ah,” he said, the pieces coming together for him, “Henry’s father?”

“Yeah. His name was Neal, and as it turned out he had just stolen the car.” A melancholy look crossed her face, but she pushed it away. “He was older and had that irresponsible, easygoing vibe that screamed bad boy. So, naturally, my sixteen-year-old self fell for him immediately.”

He nodded, encouraging her to continue.

“We decided to team up. There were a lot of cons that were easier with the two of us, and we made our way from Portland to Arizona. We were together by then, and I was crazy about him. He said he was crazy about me. We had even started talking about going straight together, doing the right thing somewhere with a nice view of the beach. We were thinking Florida,” she said, her lips turning downward with a wry twist at her youthful naivete. “We settled on Tallahassee, not realizing it doesn’t have access to the beach.”

“What went wrong, love?”

“Neal had some watches he’d lifted a while ago stored in a locker in Phoenix. We were going to grab them, sell them and use the money to start our new life. But when we got there we found a bunch of wanted posters with Neal’s face on them. So I volunteered to go get them.” She paused and he squeezed her hand. “We were going to meet up afterward and head out of town.”

Killian winced, imagining all the ways that could have backfired. He wondered which way it had.

Emma didn’t let him stew in his curiosity for long. “I picked them up without a problem and went to meet Neal. Only he didn’t show, a cop did. Said they’d gotten an ‘anonymous tip’ someone would be making a grab and running with them.”

“Bloody hell, an ‘anonymous tip’? He--” Killian cut himself off, heat blooming in his cheeks as fury bubbled in his chest at the man who had so betrayed Emma. He was so appalled that he pulled back, disentangling their hands.

“Yeah. I think even the judge felt bad for me. My sentence wasn’t as heavy as it could have been, and they made sure I got resources so that I wouldn’t turn back to theft when I got out,” she said, fiddling with her napkin and not meeting his eyes.

He reached for her again and squeezed her hand, overwhelmed at what she had gone through.

She looked up at him, smiling sadly, a bitter twist to her mouth. “Two months into my year-long sentence I found out I was pregnant. I had just barely turned seventeen, I was in jail, and I--well, I couldn’t even fathom being a mother. Even if it meant I had to do the one thing I’d sworn I’d never do to my own child, I knew he deserved better.”

“And so did you,” he whispered, his heart breaking for her.

“Does that make me selfish? It’s just that what was best for him was also best for me, or so I thought at the time.”

“Of course not. Or rather, if it is...it’s the most understandable thing I can think of in your situation.” He lifted her hand to brush a kiss across her knuckles, then furrowed his brow. “Did Henry say something?”

“He wondered about why I had given him up. I told him the truth, and that I don’t exactly regret it. But I also told him that I do want to know him.”

Killian smiled at her. “And hopefully he wants to know you. If not, he’s missing out.”

She blushed but returned his smile. “Thanks. We talked last night on the phone, and we had a good chat on the way to Portland. I think… I think it’s going to work out.”

He desperately wanted to pull her into his embrace. “Thank you, Emma, for telling me about your past.”

She looked at him, something shy and earnest in her gaze. “Thanks for listening. I don’t generally talk about this stuff with, well, anyone.”

“I’m honored to have your trust,” he said honestly, even as the guilt of his work with August knifing through him even as he smiled. It was an honor, even if it was one he didn’t deserve, but he would endeavor to be worthy of it.

She didn’t seem to notice anything was off, and Killian let out a silent breath of relief. She didn’t ever have to know about his past behavior, especially since it was no longer an issue. Killian leaned back in his chair, shifting his hand to lift hers, thumbing at the top of her knuckles as he did. “Well, love, would you like me to pour us another glass of wine? We could do that and watch something, if you’d like,” he said.

Emma slumped her shoulders in relief, clearly relieved to have the more serious portion of their conversation over with too. “That sounds great.”

They settled onto the couch, Emma sitting comfortably beside him, his arm draped over her shoulder, as they watched Parks and Recreation. He wasn’t entirely sold on the American comedy, but Emma assured him it would change his life. He was willing to give it a shot, especially with such a glowing recommendation, and if it meant it was something they’d have an excuse to continue to do together outside of the office.

Honestly, though, he stopped paying attention to the show about the same time Emma’s hand started caressing his thigh. He tightened his hold on her, the chamomile and sunshine scent of her hair bewitching his senses.

She turned to look up at him, and he wasted no time capturing her lips with his. His tongue traced along them, begging entry that she granted. Their embrace grew more passionate as she turned to face him, her legs straddling his. She pressed against him, her fingers cupping his jaw as his hands slipped under her sweater. He lightly traced nonsensical patterns up her back with his hand and his prosthetic, letting them slide against the softness of her skin and moaning against her mouth as he did.

Killian’s moan seemed to startle Emma, and she pulled back. He was gratified, though, to see she seemed to have trouble catching her breath. As she paused but didn’t pull back further, he pressed open-mouthed kisses down her throat to her collarbone.

She arched into him again and sighed before finally pulling away. “Hey, Killian--can we--can we stop for a moment?”

He closed his eyes but nodded, acquiescing. Lowering his hands and removing them from under her top, he looked up at her above him, her long hair flowing over her shoulders. She looked like a goddess of sunshine, he thought, his brain still somewhat fogged, not receiving all the blood flow it normally would.

“Sorry, I just… well, a lot is going on right now, and I want to see where this goes. But I also want to slow down a little,” she said apologetically, her cheeks red--with either embarrassment or arousal. Possibly both.

He smiled, and pressed a chaste kiss to her nose. “You have nothing to apologize for, Emma. We can take this as slowly--or as fast--as you’d like. Whenever you like.”

“I just… well, you’re my editor.” She gave a small shrug and looked away a moment before returning to look directly down at him. “I want this to work, I really do. But if it doesn’t, we still have to work together.”

“I understand. Truly, lass,” he said, beseeching any god who might listen to please help it work out. He reached out and touched her chin, kissing her again, trying to keep it from becoming too desperate a thing.

[deborahdeshoftim5779]

Questions for HSM III (Part XIII)

Caption: “Yes, Chad, I am going to Berkeley. No, it wasn’t my decision.”

In all seriousness, the above still comes from one of the few tolerable scenes throughout this entire movie. Troy and Chad at their best, the best of friends. 

On The Musical- Part II

1- So, as we can see, Troy has (finally) shown up for the musical, performed his piece, given the usual stack of undue credit to Gabriella and received approval from the watching crowd. Like I said before, all of this is heavily overshadowed by the absolute punishment he endured in order to reach this point. Now, the plot needs Sharpay to be resurrected so that she can assert her place as Queen Bitch in line with story needs. Some would say that Sharpay’s part could have been resurrected by giving her the thoughtful, consistent and measured characterization that she deserved, given that her redeeming traits are just as fascinating as her significant flaws-- in fact, I would even go as far as to say that her redeeming traits are the reason for her significant flaws. A passionate love for the arts gives birth to her desire to win at all costs. Instead, we have a risible and cringe-worthy Bitch Competition between Sharpay and someone not fit to buckle her sandals. 

During the truly childish display that follows, one has to wonder about the opinion of the Juilliard judges at this point. They have, presumably excused, Troy’s initial no-show earlier. I highlight this point, because during the Sharpay-Tiara scene, you can see Mr and Mrs Evans reading what I assume is the program for the musical. Therefore I make the reasonable assumption that the Juilliard judges must also have had one with them. Furthermore, they also recognized Troy Bolton on sight. So, what do they make of Sharpay not appearing at the beginning of her next set (although due to reasons beyond her control), but then squabbling with a complete nobody onstage? 

Thus ends Sharpay’s storyline in this story, and what a miserable ending it is, too. 

On Graduation

1- Somewhat confused at part of the graduation ceremony seemingly happening right after the musical. Am I missing something here? Was this a different night altogether? I’m at a loss. 

2- Kelsi Nielsen getting the credit she deserves always makes me smile! Jason’s jump-hug for graduating is somewhat endearing, although begs the question of why he thought Troy’s potential scholarship opportunity was so hilarious earlier. Anyway, kudos to him. Turns out he could study in the library and do a musical at the same time-- who would have known?! Taylor McKessie-- yes, there was never any question. Next stop: The White House. Again. Ryan Evans getting a scholarship to Juilliard is another highlight of the show-- if not for the Royal Sham, every scene with Ryan in has been a pleasure to watch. And we also get to see Sharpay congratulating him, which SHOULD have been the culmination of her character arc, but instead comes after her being upstaged by two complete idiots for no good reason. Why Tiara Gold seriously thought that she would become Head of the Drama Department after her childish behaviour and ONE appearance as understudy is beyond me, but her lack of motivation and her dramatic exit are once again a reinder of her intrinsic uselessness to the plot. 

3- “And now a Senior, whom I believe, has a decision to make! Mr Troy Bolton!”

Christ Almighty, how to watch this scene without cringing into a corner! Now of course, as I said earlier, theatre is as much a part of Troy’s identity as basketball, so it’s unsurprising that he chose the both. But unfortunately, this revelation comes off the back of little information. Which other colleges offered Troy a place? When did Troy get to do his research on what each college offered by way of a major? The latter half of this movie has been dedicated to him crawling after his ungrateful girlfriend entirely at his own expense. Not ONCE throughout this movie has Gabriella shown ANY interest in his further education apart from making a few casual comments about the Coach from U of A... right at the beginning of the movie. This lack of information makes it implausible that Troy would have carefully thought out his decision to attend UC Berkeley, as we will see in a minute. Once again, this is proof that the movies were less interested in Troy the man, and more interested in Troy as a subsidiary of Gabriella Montez. What was the point in building up all of the anticipation with regards to Troy’s future, which included a full-scale mental breakdown in the gymn after school hours, if we get no context or information as to how he weighed his options? Instead, we got glorification left, right and centre and several scenes for Gabriella, whose options were comparatively clearer for her, and involved little to no struggle to achieve. For goodness sake, we got a meaningless sequence involving Gabriella chewing her nails as she walked around Stanford, yet not so much as a scene involving Troy looking at university prospectuses! Lazy writing at its finest. 

Furthermore, as if this decision wasn’t invalidated enough, Troy doesn’t even sound all that excited or pleased at the prospect of attending UC Berkeley. Or is it just me? He looked far more delighted when his friend Kelsi won the scholarship to Juilliard. (TINY scene, blink and you’ll miss it, but he looks very pleased for her). Given that they were both contenders for the scholarship, a final “Playmaker” scene between these two seemed FAR more appropriate than the upcoming travesty we’re about to hear. Like I said, Kelsi’s evolution is down to Troy, and the script could have reduced my anger with this film by recognizing that with another Trelsi scene designed to epitomise what their bond has represented for the entirety of the movie series. Instead we get the absolute travesty coming next.

A flat tone of voice and quick nod to affirm this decision (definitely pulled off the top of his head) is surely no way to underline the validity of this “decision”?

More importantly, please remember that Troy didn’t know what he would do if Juilliard said yes to him. Therefore is it right to assume that he could not have been thinking of Berkeley at this point in time? One has to wonder what he might have done if Juilliard had chosen him for a scholarship-- would we still get the travesty of an ending that we actually received? Given Troy’s propensity to throw away opportunities that benefit him for the sake of validaiton from his girlfriend and friends, he would have thrown away the scholarship opportunity again (he is so beleaguered and ineffectual at this point, thanks to Gabriella’s horrendous behaviour) for the sake of this odious relationship. 

4- “But most of all, I choose the person who inspires my heart... which is why I picked a school that is exactly 32... point 7... miles from you.”

Lord have mercy on this child. His doom is sealed. He has reached a point of no return in his quest for eternal servitude. What to say, folks? I must reiterate every event in the sinking of RMS Troy Bolton up until now: 1)- Gabriella’s insensitivity and lack of interest in Troy’s further education, 2)- Gabriella laughing at Troy potentially winning a scholarship to Juilliard, 3)- Gabriella withholding crucial information with regards to the Stanford Freshman Honors Program, 4)- Gabriella showing arrogance/rudeness when Troy finally found out, 5)- Gabriella rarely having any interest in Troy’s hurt when she leaves unceremoniously, 6)- Gabriella bailing on Troy for prom, the musical and graduation, 7)- Gabriella having to be persuaded to return, 8)- Every other time Gabriella has shown little to no interest in the effect of her actions on Troy, or anything that directly concerns him. After all of this, and all of her horrendous, cruel and selfish behaviour during HSM II, she is REWARDED by receiving Troy’s head on a platter for more of her abuse after graduation? I just can’t take this! 

What is more insiduous is that the whole crowd, including his fellow high school students are delighted by a “decision” that CLEARLY wasn’t voluntary! Every other student has either chosen or accepted a place based on their own academic merit. Call me old-fashioned, but this should be the primary, if not only, reason that one chooses to invest money in a higher institution. Also remember folks, that we don’t know whether Troy has been offered a scholarship to Berkeley-- I’m assuming not, given the reckless haste with which he made this decision. (WHEN, is what I’d like to know!!) So we have to assume that Troy will be FORKING OUT YET MORE CASH, which his parents were struggling to pay, on attending the UC Berkeley for ROMANTIC reasons which are prioritized over ACADEMIC reasons. Folks, this is pure tragedy. And because the audience are smiling, and sighing at this, we, the audience, are expected to consider this so very noble! Meanwhile, Gabriella would NEVER have made such a decision: she had always wanted to attend Stanford University, despite her whining to the contrary, since she was a child. Troy’s ambition had previously been the U of A. Even taking into consideration Mr. Bolton’s unreasonable pressure on Troy with regards to attending U of A, Troy did stand a good chance of getting said scholarship based on how impressed Mr Evans was with his practice. Why are we given no indication of Troy’s interactions with any other university during this movie? More importantly, why can NO ONE else in his class see the dreadful implications of this “decision”, despite having seen Troy’s descent into melancholy over the school year? For heaven’s sake, Gabriella dumped him over the phone-- isn’t that an omen? 

Chad should not have walked out in disappointment, but rather in anger, given that his best buddy was shackling himself to a girl who didn’t care two figs about him. But of course, Chad thinks Gabriella is one step ahead. 

What is the point of making Troy struggle about his academic future and pursuits if the most important reason for choosing UC Berkeley was romantic, rather than pragmatic/practical/reality-based/academic?

Furthermore, isn’t it absurd that Troy was so adamant against choosing a university that his father and Chad wanted him to attend, but then so blithely states that he will be following Gabriella to California? 

As for the claim that Gabriella “inspires my heart”, I have no words. If inspiring one’s heart means sending one into a pit of self-denial, self-destruction, instability, constant vulnerability, doubt and even depression, then I do not even know what the word “inspire” now means. Folks, there is NO WAY that these two continued to maintain a viable relationship after graduation. I have expounded on the reasons why throughout this “Questions” series and will continue to do so in future. Nevermind what the morally and technically deficient script claims. All the scriptwriters have done is just provide overwhelming and undeniable evidence that this couple is untenable, undesirable and downright alarming for Troy’s well-being and mental health, whilst believing that they were bringing a touching love story to life. Actually, they have just set the meaning of true love to burn on a bonfire. I can’t see them lasting even one semester more, let alone the implied years and years of romantic bliss. It’s just impossible. Meanwhile, Troy will still have a massive tuition bill over his head at the end of the three or four years of study, and precious little to show for his (latest) drastic “decision”. 

Why would the scriptwriters massacre their main protagonist in this way? How is this a happy ending, to have a young boy choosing his own path based on a RELATIONSHIP that hardly deserves the title, and not on the academic pursuits that have characterized his struggle? Again, on the first watch, I had completely lost the will to live by this point. 

An utter disgrace and an outrage by any decent standards. 

5- Chad Danforth has left the stage, people! As I mentioned before, Taylor relies upon Troy to reach out to Chad, thus demonstrating that despite all of her disloyal, unjust and quite frankly puzzling behaviour towards Troy, she does actually like him! Amazing. What follows is a far more palatable scene than the monstrosity we just witnessed. I like any and all Troy-Chad friendship scenes and this definitely does not disappoint. The brotherly affection and calm acceptance of the future is definitely worth watching, even if the patient viewer is still having seizures over Troy’s horrendous announcement. 

The way Chad reacts to Troy’s decision is representative of Chad himself, who is still bound by the Status Quo and very much reliant upon his friendship with Troy-- perhaps more so than Troy himself, who by now, is not afraid to try new things. Therefore, I think it is good in the long run that the boys attend different universities, as we see that Chad can shine on his own merits. Of course, there is some hypocrisy here, as is usually the case with Chad, in that he is disappointed (but presumably accepting) of Troy’s decision here, but always quick to jealousy when they are sharing the same opportunities. Anyway, I am willing to overlook this as the very least of Chad’s faults, in favour of the great banter and chemistry they share in this final scene. I also love their teamwork and yet friendly competition which is underlined by mutual respect and true brotherhood as well. Yes, a very touching scene. Pity that it alone cannot save this movie, which is taking in more water than the Titanic, but touching nonetheless. 

Likewise, I LOVE the hug between Troy and his father, highlighting mutual understanding, acceptance, love and loyalty. Again, more of THIS and less of you-know-what would have saved my faith. 

Troy’s Graduation Speech- The Parts You DIDN’T hear

1- As has been pointed out before (credit to BoltonEvans and others), Troy should not be giving the graduation speech. However, in a long line of questionable, outrageous and downright alarming script-writing decisions, this is one of the least offensive, so I just roll with it. During the first watch, I was barely listening anyway, having died shortly after Troy and Chad returned to the stage. 

2- “East High is a place where teachers encouraged us to break the Status Quo...”

Indeed, Troy. So what have you got to say for yourself?

This is a nonsensical statement, given that the Status Quo of Troy/Gabriella is never ever challenged, no matter the destructive effects, and the Wildcats largely, throughout the course of the series, continue with their dismissal, disloyalty and hypocrisy towards Troy and his ambitions. 

3- “...and define ourselves as WE choose...”

Did Troy write this speech before or after selling his soul? If he wrote it before, then this line is commendable. If he wrote it afterwards (which seems more likely), then he’s actually living on another planet. 

4- “Where a jock can cook up a mean crême brûlée...”

And then laugh at Troy for having aspirations in the Performing Arts. 

5- “Where a braniac can break down on a dance floor...”

Martha’s brain was largely abandoned in favour of casting her as a cheerleader, so this line rings hollow. But kudos anyway. 

6- “It’s a place where one person... if it’s the right person... changes us all.”

FOR THE WORSE. 

The only tolerable part of this involved Sharpay finally abandoning her disdain/Queen Bitch clothing to smile at Gabriella-- but it is a completely undeserved smile. If anyone deserves an encouraging smile, it should be Troy, who has endured hell in this movie, barely looks animated or excited whilst giving this speech, and has sold his soul in a long list of sacrifices for a relationship that only exists in his head. Gabriella has NOT changed everyone; Troy has. Troy has had much more to lose throughout the movie series, and has still gone against the grain. Troy is the one who reached out and made friends, brought people together and helped people to enjoy the performing arts. Troy is the one who has redefined his identity. (He’s also helped to destroy it). This is thoroughly false stuff. 

Why no line for Kelsi? I don’t really give two fucks about Martha’s breakdancing, and Troy barely interacted with her AT ALL. On the contrary, Kelsi is one of his best friends and their bond has been one of the few highlights throughout. We could have had a GREAT homage to the two Playmakers here, which would have signalled a fitting conclusion for one of the few decent relationships on this show. Why couldn’t he discuss how Kelsi had risen from being shy to realizing her worth as Playmaker? That would have been far more relevant to the show’s overall message. Or what about Ryan, who has risen from being seen as a Sideshow Bob to being valued on his own merit? What have either Zeke or Martha done that is so significant by comparison? Unjust exclusion by Troy here. 

7- “East High is having friends that we’ll keep for the rest of our lives.”

Troy continues his glorious trait of making grand predictions and assumptions based on little to no evidence at all. SOME friends should be kept, others discarded on the trash heap. *cough cough*

It is at this point that we get another cute Chaylor moment. Again, I am left stuttering that these two might not remain together, whilst the inevitability of Troyella is stamped across the screen. Anyone with a pair of eyes can see the effortless communication, sweetness, maturity and complementary nature of Chaylor supersedes every odious facet of the Troyella pairing. But nonetheless, a sweet Chaylor moment. 

8- “...once a Wildcat, always a Wildcat.”

Once disloyal, ungrateful, jealous, cruel and hypocritical, ALWAYS... You fill in the rest. Okay, I’m being mean. Yes, the Wildcats make a decent team when they are together. 

And, of course, everyone cheers because hey! Plot reasons. 

To cap it all off, we get a catchy song that it admittedly enjoyable. I was slightly resurrected from my death during the first watch so that I could nod along to the beat. Sadly, I was not “sad we have to let it go”, because of the heinous screenwriting and character crimes witnessed therein. Still, catchy. Like I said, this movie did a decent job with the music and choreography throughout; there were great tunes, great sets, great costumes, great scenes and so on. Visually speaking, this movie definitely lived up to at least the very first one. Unfortunately, the story so wore me down and eventually infuriated me that I struggle to give these other factors their proper due. Am I too sour and ungrateful? Perhaps. 

Nonetheless, I hope you have enjoyed this “Questions” series!

This was actually based on me watching the movie alongside writing these out, whereas I did the HSM II one based on memory. Depending on what you guys think, I might try the same for at least HSM II later, but I also want to work on other stuff, particularly my favourite relationships (Trelsi, thou shalt not be forgotten!!!) and dreaming up HSM headcanons. Feel free to make suggestions, and let me know what you think. 

Thanks for reading!

[mylifeatwar]

Book 2, Chapter 1, Page 4

Archived Text Follows:

And up he goes!

As some of you are so astutely noticing, the Dhuvalians are very different from our beloved Free Marketeers. I’m often fascinated and delighted by stories of culture clash, where two very different ways of thinking collide and the results therein.

Stories of American Marines snapping Japanese Officers’ katanas in half because the mangled, master-crafted weapons made fantastic trench knives. Stories of Colonists in America defecting to the Native American tribes because the quality-of-life among the ‘savages’ was so much higher. Stories of how the Medicis, when they visited France, found the food so appalling that they imported their own cooks from Italy, which ended up becoming the foundation point for France’s culinary tradition.

War is the most obvious form on conflict, but when groups fight each other, they end up interacting in a myriad of ways beyond the martial level. I hope we can take the time in MLaW to witness some of those moments…

Thanks for reading,

– Luther out

Comment Text Follows:

Killercow - Yay! Thought he was gunna fall right back down again there. Nothing like the elegant movements of the Duke we saw way back in the prologue, but he certainly must have started off this way! I wonder how the free marketeers train with such limited space, if their entire county is essentially one mega city.

Sophisanmus -  If I had to guess, Free Marketer Limbs don’t require as much training, at least with regards to basic locomotion. They seem to rely on more utilitarian propulsion and what articulation they do possess is likely more automated than Dhuvalian counterparts. I’d even expect Free Marketer basic training to make use of sims, possibly eschewing field training entirely in cases. Pilot skill seems tertiary to squad tactics and quick turnaround on the broad scale. The Dhuvalians have superior tech and training, but I’m curious to see what kind of army the Free Market economy can raise when … motivated. That is, if the Dhuvalians manage to piss off more than just one sector.

folti - Or probably this training LIMB’s control software has been dumbed down seriously, to allow a more in-depth training about how to handle a LIMB. It’ll take more time, but probably the pilot gains more understanding of how the vehicle behaves compared to the Free Marketers’ “let the software handle that low level stuff.” approach. It might be necessary for the more acrobatic stuff their LIMBs can do, compared to the more limited ability FM LIMBS. Or maybe it’s just a silly tradition those snotty Dhuvalian nobles espouse…

Plaintextman -  I would guess that the FM LIMBs we’ve seen so far are a little easier to pilot, though a little less capable overall agility-wise. If they really were “easy” and required little training, I don’t know how the heck Dizee maintains his position as a pilot. He’s obviously got the raw skill and sense to pilot a limb, but little sense in other areas.

Grudgesettler - They seem to have more LIMBs then pilots, at the very least. Leaves me really curious as to the training involved for their pilots. I can’t imagine automation being a massive thing, otherwise I would expect to the opposite situation; a metric ass ton of pilots (that’s still an accepted unit of measurement, right?) to a smaller number of LIMBs. And in such a situation, Dizzee wouldn’t be piloting for very long. That said, there were a number of computerized-looking systems during the cockpit shots, so I have no idea.

Bounty Red - I think you guys are not giving the Free Marketeers their due credit. I’d bet no Limb is easy to handle, look at them, mechanical behemoths. While the free marketeers are less educated I bet it’s the same thing as being a mechanic, or learning to ride a horse. Not something the average person wants to do, so being a military killer is left up to those who can’t do anything better. While I think it’s more of an honor and a privilege for the Dhuvies, similar to how flying a jet is a right for officers.

SteelRaven - I still remember Dizz’s thoughts of the Dhuvalians, can only imagine what they think of the Free Marketeers. Another fun fact regarding the cultural impact of past wars; When the Ottoman Empire invasion into Europe was stopped at Vienna, the fleeing Ottoman army left bags of coffee behind in the hasty retreat. It didn’t take long for the people of Vienna to take a liking to coffee bean themselves and soon Coffee houses pop up throughout the city and soon all of Europe.

Grudgesettler - I recall an earlier comment, can’t remember who said it, on the comic when Vulture is struck by the Dhuvalian pike. Basically, “let’s see if the filthy lucre can balm his soul.” That would strike me as something the Dhuvalians would think; mercenaries, they be scum. On a related note, I now want a mug of coffee.

Plaintextman - Ah yes, there just isn’t anything like a good look at different cultures and people, their history and how they interact. Bonus points if you get a nice look at their respective languages and their subtle yet dichotomic differences. Well, at least in my case — keep it in mind if you guys want extra kudos from me, Matt haha I’m already liking this Christophe Sagnier character. He really seems cut out for his position as a high-up in the monarchy (whatever exactly his position entails).

Jack Mcrary - Just a minor point of order: Those Japanese swords were very cheap (one of the reasons they broke so easily) mass-produced items, not the masterwork pieces from the days of feudal Japan.

Mr. Patenge -  While it’s true that the enlisted Japanese soldiers were issued low quality mass-produced swords, the officers often outfitted themselves with high quality swords (masterwork may have been an exaggeration). US Marines were unable to tell the difference between the two until they devised a system of smashing looted swords with rocks. 

Grudgesettler - While I’m not sure of masterwork, I know many of the Japanese officers whose families had served as samurai in the previous centuries had ancient family blades, many of which had seen multiple generations of combat. Because these were considered items of cultural heritage, they weren’t allowed on the battlefield. But tradition dies very, very hard. In order to use their blades, these men got one of the mass produced weapons, removed the blade from the hilt, and had the blade from the ancestral weapon placed in the cheap hilt. By all appearances, it was another government sword. *the corny music from The More you know*

BeerWolf - Another fine point, if I may. The Marines felt they needed trench knives to stay alive far more than they needed swords for their collections. Perhaps they were more discriminating after the fighting stopped, but in the hells of WW2 jungle fighting, the needs of battle came first. ( and 2nd, 3rd, etc.)

TKG - its kind of interesting to see the artistic design differences between free market and Dhuvalian limbs on a basic level. The free market ones are clearly the process of a corporate process, very boxy and rather limited in what they do where as the Dhuvalian ones seems as much works of art, as they are combat machines. I wonder what the trade off is?

Deoxy - “I wonder what the trade off is?” COST. In WWII, the German tanks were completely and utterly superior to the American tanks. The American tanks were cheap… and thus outnumbered the German tanks rather a lot. The end result was higher tank losses on the side of the Americans… but still victory, as they had tanks left, and the Germans didn’t. RTS spam tactics, basically – cheap, replaceable units that do more damage to the enemy (as a group) than they cost to replace. When you can only take a limited number of units (for whatever reason), quality is of the utmost importance. When that limitation is removed, quantity usually wins.

TKG - Since we do not know what a front line Dhuvalin Limb costs without that information it is not safe to assume cost is the factor/only factor in play. It could be limitations on manufacturing, as the Dhuvalian units as seen seem to lack as much weapons system variability. But they do have fancy looking stealth systems which may suggest otherwise.I might also point out we do not know the full extent of either side’s manufacturing capabilities so we don’t know who’s pushing quality or quantity. It is clear from a pure aesthetic standpoint though the Dhuvalian limbs are easier on the eye. As a final note we’ve seen what three or four variants on the free market Limb so far but perhaps maybe two Dhuvalian Limb variants? It may be that the rest of them hav enot shown up and it’s more a battle of culture then technology or manufacturing. As a final note, in the RTS bit I got a very ‘GDI medium Tank vs. Nod Stealth Tank’ vibe from the straight up line confrontation earlier in the comic.

Grudgesettler - I wonder if manufacturing costs is even a particularly big consideration, really. One thing to remember is that the 1st Investment Recovery Battalion isn’t an army, but a company. Their assets are obviously considerable, but they’ll operate in the manner of a business, not an army. As to how that would effect equipment, I picture them buying in lots, either per year or quarter, rather then having a permanent manufacturing base and a logistics engine. Simply put, they brought all their stuff with them, and unless the company decides to ship out more, I suspect that’s all they’ll have. That will put them in a rough position against the Dhuvalians. As Betsy-Ray said earlier, they are an army. They have a nation of resources, a logistics train, a stronger battlefield ethos then our beloved Marketeers, and the propaganda brought about by an invasion. From where I sit, they have both quantity and quality on their side. Our Free Marketeers are in a tough place.

TKG - Since they’re corporate assets we also don’t know if the 1st literal size. the word battalion could be an understatement or an overstatement of their actual size not counting dependents and non-combatants. It would be absolutely ironic if it turned out they were the corporate equivalent to rent-a-cops.

Grudgesettler - Sorry, I’d meant company as in a business venture, not as a military unit.

Bounty Red - Good point. Think about how long Dizzy had to wait in line to get his Limb repaired. 7 minutes. Crazy.

Mr. Patenge - Well specifically, they didn’t even both to repair his LIMB, they just slotted him into a new one and got him back out on the field. By the way, I notice that you’re a new reader. Welcome! How’d you find out about us?