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tigerroseblue · 3 years ago

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Hey, just here to talk about my new favorite trio (though one of them is dead). Dazai, Odasaku, and Ango.

So, just wanted to put my 2-cents into this, but even though Dazai was supposed to be this extremely sadistic, dark, and brutal mafioso during the Dark Era, I can't help but think that that's where we have seen him care the most about actual people–just because they were people he cared for. Not because they had a part in a greater plan of his or he just found them interesting or because he had a creed (one borrowed for Odasaku). He just simply cared about them and their wellbeing.

First of all, Odasaku, since he's the most obvious.

:keepreading:

All throughout the story, Dazai has never been particularly close to any of the other characters. They never know his true motivations, I don't think any of them (except maybe Akiko, the Pres, and (of course) Ranpo) knew about him being an ex-Mafia member, nobody ever tries to ask about his past, in the Dead Apple movie (is that canon? It feels more canonical than any other anime movie I've ever seen) Atsushi happens upon Dazai at Odasaku's grave and I have the feeling that might be the first time anyone has asked Dazai about Odasaku.

Also, for all of Dazai's suicide attempts, the others have treated them as annoyances, the story (for the most part) used them as comedic relief. The only person to treat them seriously was Odasaku. That moment where Odasaku takes the case with the gun from Ango's room and runs into Mimic and Dazai comes to help him, Dazai has another suicidal moment. But this one is anything but comedic. It's raw and dark. You can practically feel just how little Dazai truly values his own life. Again, this is not a comedic moment. During this moment in the light novel, Odasaku narrates:

" “Dazai, don’t move. I’ll think of something.” My fingers slowly reach for my gun. The gunman in grey could kill Dazai at any moment. Since the muzzle is already aimed at Dazai, even if I shoot the attacker’s heart in one shot, the attack may release the old pistol’s trigger. Timing is important. Although I don’t want to stake everything I have on this, but I don’t have any other options....“Dazai!” I shout. It feels like there’s tens of thousands of kilometres between me and Dazai....If the circumstances were different, if I had a different relationship with Dazai, it would not be surprising if I’d punched Dazai right there and then in such a situation. But me being me, I cannot do anything as such to Dazai. I put my gun back in my holster, walking away with my back turned to Dazai. With every step I take, I feel as though the earth has opened up into a bottomless pit as I fall endlessly. As Dazai pointed to his forehead and approached the muzzle, the look on his face – like that of a child about to burst into tears – had already been branded upon my eyes. "

That was no cheery suicide. Dazai was almost begging to be shot in front of one of his closest friends. That would’ve inconvenienced him, because if he had been killed, Odasaku would always have wondered if there’d been anything he could’ve done to have stopped Dazai.

When Odasaku is running from the sniper and calls Dazai for help, he says that if Dazai needs him to show him the Silver Oracle given to him by Mori, he could do that. (The Silver Oracle allows Oda to give orders even to executives like Dazai.) But Dazai cuts him off. This man, who wouldn’t go help Akutagawa against the Mimic soldiers (not that he really needed help until Gide got there), says that it’s not necessary. Dazai helped Odasaku because he wanted to, not because he was ordered to.

The part where Dazai is trying to convince Odasaku to stay after the orphans are killed might be the most heart wrenching scene of this arc. For all of this boy’s genius intellect and silver tongue, he can’t say what is needed. And perhaps nothing could’ve been said at that point to stop Odasaku.

When asked by Mori why he was going, despite not having a logical reason, Dazai simply replies with “because he’s my friend”. Have we ever heard that from Dazai again after that, towards anyone? I can’t remember a single instance of him calling any of the ADA members his friends. Just Odasaku.

The very fact that Dazai LISTENS to Odasaku and leaves the Port Mafia, the place where he’d spent most of his teenage years, where he’d made (a few) connections, where he bled, speaks to how much Dazai cared for him. While I’m not a Odazai shipper, I am comfortable saying that Dazai did love Odasaku, though most likely platonically. Dazai spends 2 years in hiding, probably being frequently moved from safe house to safe house, with no connections and left only with his memories of what was. To obey Odasaku’s last words to him, to become a better man.

As for Ango, there’s two main scenes I want to focus on.

First, after Dazai saves Odasaku from the Mimic sniper and opens the briefcase. Dazai explains to Odasaku why he thinks Ango was lying to them about the deal. Even after laying out his logic, he still asks Odasaku to bring Ango back. And he doesn’t say it like “bring him back so he can be punished”. He’s saying it like someone who is concerned about Ango’s wellbeing. This was his expression:

He doesn’t look angry or tense. That is concern. At this point, I think he knows that Ango is lost to him. Whether through him dying or him being a traitor. Still, he wants to know he’s going to be okay.

Second, is the moment in the bar, the last time the Buraiha meet. Ango mentions going underground for awhile after this and Dazai asks if he honestly thinks he’ll walk out of here alive. Despite this threat, this is Dazai’s ultimate decision (and probably one of the saddest quotes from Dazai):

“Ango. Go before I change my mind.

I'm not sad. I knew this from the beginning. Whether you were from the gifted special operations division or not, anything I'd never want to lose is always lost. It is a given that everything that is worth wanting will be lost the moment I obtain it. There is nothing worth pursuing at the cost of prolonging a life of suffering."

If Dazai was truly as angry about Ango being a spy as he acted when they met back up in season 2, he wouldn't have ever let him walk out of that bar alive. This is Mafia Dazai we're talking about. A guy so freaking scary, the rest of the Mafia literally had a saying "the biggest misfortune for Dazai's enemies, is that they were Dazai's enemies" when he was 18. Mori was certain that Dazai would kill him and take his spot as the Boss of the Mafia in a few years. That's the Dazai we're talking about.

But, as I was saying, Dazai let Ango walk out of that bar alive. And his words to him at the time "Whether you were from the gifted special operations division or not, anything I'd never want to lose is always lost." Hinting that Ango was something he'd never want to lose–more to the point, he didn't want to lose the friendship they shared. To me, Dazai didn't seem angry. He was also, by his own admission (though Dazai is a lying liar who lies, but I don’t think he’s lying here), isn’t sad. Instead, he comes off as more resigned. He said he knew this from the beginning, when he first met Ango. In Dazai’s experience, he always loses that which he never wants to lose. So, from the moment he met Ango, he knew he’d lose him. He’d spent their entire friendship, preparing himself for this eventuality. He may not have foreseen the means, but he saw the ending.

The next time Dazai sees Ango (that we are privy to), Dazai is P I S S E D. He (I think) organizes a car crash so Ango will do what he wants. Again, Dazai was not angry at Ango for betraying the Mafia. (In my opinion, Dazai wasn’t loyal to Mafia anyway. He had his reasons for being there, but those reasons were solely for his own gain, not for any attachment to the Mafia. He cared about some of the people there, Odasaku and Ango (obviously), but also arguably Chuuya and Hirotsu.) Dazai is angry because of Ango’s involvement in Odasaku’s death and (possibly, from the 55 Minutes light novel) the cover-up of how Odasaku died against Mimic.

Ango (this poor, overworked boy) almost seems to expect this. He’s certainly not surprised. When Dazai points a gun at his head, Ango is expressionless. When he asks Dazai about the car crash and his airbag not deploying, he already knows he’s right, he’s just getting confirmation.

Dazai (platonically) loved Odasaku and looked up to him, still looks up to him. But I don’t agree with the idea that Dazai didn’t care about Ango. Did he love him like Odasaku? Probably not. But he did care. Just like Ango cares.

Which is why I’m interested in how Ango’s involvement with the current manga arc ends. Will he die–maybe sacrificing himself to save the ADA members that Dazai cares for? Will he survive? If he does live, what’s going to happen? Will he still have a job with the division? Maybe (though I doubt it) he’ll join the ADA. Mostly, what I’m curious of is whether or not Ango and Dazai’s relationship can be repaired. Dazai does not seem like a forgiving person. But perhaps I’m wrong. Maybe this is what is needed for them to start repairing their relationship.

(Please stay tuned to get my analysis on Dazai’s relationships with Atsushi and Akutagawa and my thoughts on whether or not they might give clues as to Dazai’s backstory.)

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #buraiha trio #oda sakunosuke #odasaku #ango sakaguchi #ango #dazai osamu #dazai #dark era #analysis

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 3 years ago

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it’s a fucking metaphor!

Titans 3.08

i’ve finally gathered the mental and emotional resources to do this thing, so let’s go! as always, i’m typing this up as i see the episode.

SPOILERS AHEAD

1. on watching this opening scene, i was thinking back to how gar was in s1, or even the early bits of s2. the way he idolised the others, particularly dick, and his readiness to go along with whatever they said, and the way he practically bled the need for acceptance. and here he is now, openly defying dick, fully open to and aware of the flaws of the people he loves and admires, knowing he is accepted no matter what and extending that generosity elsewhere. it’s a remarkable bit of character growth that’s... sort of blossomed in the background and so rewarding to see and acknowledge.

1.25. i guess what i really love about this conflict over how to respond to jason--as clumsily as it is sometimes written--is how their histories and individual traumas inform each character’s reaction. dick is torn between his guilt over what’s become of jason and his drive to do what batman had essentially given up on doing: he is motivated to track down red hood at all costs but there’s a sense that he’s not completely sold on the idea that the only way to stop him is to kill him. (he might go the comics route and try to put him in arkham? god, imagine if the season ended with jason in arkham.) kory’s never had much of a connection with jason in the first place, and jason has done one of the worst things he could do in her book: track and kill a member of her newfound family and is threatening to kill more.

and gar... sure. look. the idea of jason and red hood as separate entities appeals to him; that red hood emerged when jason was drugged to the gills by scarecrow and lost his usual inhibitions. gar’s struggled with what he becomes when he’s pushed to his limits, too--he did rip open that experimenting scientist with his teeth way back in 1.07, after all, and he was brainwashed by cadmus in s2 into becoming a literal monster. he needs to think, to know, there’s a dichotomy, a line that can only be crossed under extreme duress or by outside influence.

and he says--and we say--that he was accepted back into the titans in spite of what he’d done, but was he really? gar’s always struggled with his footing in this group; relegated to the caretaker, the tech guy, the gatekeeper, and sometimes punching bag even though everybody’s paying lip service to how much of a family they all are. perhaps gar reaching out to jason and offering acceptance is aspirational on his part: perhaps this is the effort he hoped the titans put/or will put into getting gar back, even when it would seem like he’s too far gone.

1.5. anyway my point is that i don’t think it’s worth discussing this in terms of right/wrong decisions because all of their reactions make a lot of sense given their backgrounds/personalities. gar is doing a fine job here of tracking down jason’s friends and trying to find him that way, but we the audience know that jason is ultimately going to end up an anti-hero/eventually-hero character, so with that knowledge in mind we know that gar’s reaction is the right one. it’s knowledge that the other characters don’t have, so to judge them on it is... uh, unfair.

1.8. also, molly is awesome, yay!

2. dick and barbara flirting over the phone is so cute! i love to see this side of dick: lighter, peppier, willing (even if somewhat reluctantly) to put his mission aside to go out on a date with his girlfriend. and i love how easy this makes his dynamic with kory too: it’s all very domestic and utterly delightful.

(also, re: the water leak in barbara’s office--you’re saying GCPD could afford fancy-schmancy table-wide touch screen computers and evil-lair lighting but needs its frickin’ commissioner to catch leaking water from above her desk with mugs and fishbowls????)

2.2225. this is probably a teeny tiny thing and i’m not sure i want to bring it up at all BUT. the fact that dick feels compelled to lie to barbara about not liking fancy gala food and eating something more substantial before the date? not a terribly great sign, though i wouldn’t call it a red flag per se.

“this from a man who forced his students to eat cauliflower crust pizza...”

3. so.... conner and kom are a Thing. huh.

in theory i really like the idea of them bonding over an innate alien-ness and longing for a place they could really belong. both of them are alien twice-over: conner a mix of kryptonian and human, practically generated in a test tube, and kom being somebody that was born different and rejected by her own people, now stuck on a planet dominated by an entirely different species. i even like them exploring this bond physically. i guess it’s the sense of... uneasiness around what we do and don’t know about kom that makes this scene land slightly left of centre to me. i think titans, especially through s2, has cultivated in its audience a sense of distrust even until the final episode, just in case somebody vital to the season is suddenly revealed to have had ulterior motives (i’m even low-key suspicious of leslie). i really want to see this kom-conner dynamic play out but the anticipation of watching the other shoe drop is sucking out the enjoyment.

4. for fuck’s sake dick, gar’s not your gatekeeper.

TIIIIIIIIMMMMM \O/

4.5. i love this nod to tim’s origins in the comics, the way he just comes in and lays out all his evidence and makes it clear to dick that he needs tim’s help as robin. the fact that he was there at the flying graysons’ last performance, he was obsessed with their acrobatic moves, and was observant enough to connect those moves with that of robin and later nightwing... all of this came together to put him where he is right now.

(i also love how he can’t contain his giddy excitement when talking about the day dick grayson’s parents died... to dick grayson. even if dick weren’t nightwing, that would be a deeply uncomfortable thing! yet tim can’t help himself, and i love him for it.)

4.8. it’s a testament to how much dick’s caught off-guard that he can’t come up with a better response to tim’s allegations other than “uh... he stole my moves! as you know, no two gymnasts in the world are allowed to do the same moves. now, let me escort you out while pretending poorly that i’m not at all shaken by this...”

4.9. i’ve talked about this before, but i find the logic around secret identities in this universe utterly fascinating. the titans don’t make much effort in keeping their identities secret: everybody seems to know that kory is starfire for instance, or that gar is beast boy. dick grayson is seen hanging out with kory a lot, especially at crime scenes. it won’t take a lot of sleuthing to find out that the titans are currently camped out at wayne manor, and to put two and two together.

my theory was that superheroes and villains have become such an integral part of daily society that it’s almost not worth it to seek out their secret identities, or that it’s just not a big deal anymore. like politicians or diplomats, not everybody bothers to look into who exactly their local politician is, but the people who know just... know. it’s a sort of unspoken social contract.

tim’s broken this contract by confronting dick about his identity, and dick’s not ready to deal with it. not entirely.

look at him! *pinches his cheeks*

5. ngl, it was quite satisfying to see jason knock the scarecrow out like that.

5.5. i guess... the question of jason’s culpability is always going to be a thorny one and would make for a great courtroom drama spinoff. there are a number of factors to consider: jason’s personality, the rough circumstances under which he grew up, his undoubtedly stressful transition to being robin, bruce wayne being... well, bruce wayne, never feeling accepted by the titans and having most of them turn on him, being roundly defeated and almost killed by deathstroke, alfred’s death, a fuckload of ptsd, his violent death, crane’s manipulations, coming back to life, crane plying him with a drug. but there is no easy line to draw between any of these factors to his actions. i think it would be a disservice to jason’s character to attribute his actions entirely to these things and rather irresponsible to do so. i think jason has to reckon with the fact that when he took crane’s drug, he wasn’t reckless and chaotic like the thugs he gave it to; the planning that went into hank’s death was meticulous and the way hank died--dawn essentially tricked into pulling the trigger that blew her lover into bits--is so drawn out and cruel.

5.75. it’s occurring to me that crane might have given jason a placebo. maybe jason’s dependence is psychological, and he’s externalised his fears in such a way that he believes crane’s drugs literally wipe them out, however temporarily.

in any case, the boy needs (more) therapy.

6. “he walked like robin...” fuck, tim

“gait recognition sweep” god, this show. i don’t know whether to laugh or cry. hey, once we’re done doing this gait recognition thingy, can we get a goddamn plumber in the house??? or move the commissioner’s desk so that sewage water isn’t dripping on her head or the million dollar touchscreen desk???????

6.5. oh no dick!!!!!! i am delighted that you got hurt but i feel ashamed about it! that looked like it really hurt!

he’s really not having a good time of it, is he. from being shot by a sniper to slamming at full speed into an suv, he’s got to be really fucking battered by now. and that’s just the physical side of it.

“can you believe that just over a week ago i was sitting in san francisco eating cauliflower crust pizza and feeling good about myself for the first time in five years...”

7. kory’s having visions again! now that she’s figured what they are, do you think the show’s just dropped justin? it’s curious that HPG hasn’t been brought up in a while after featuring relatively heavily in the beginning. hmmm.

8. dick’s in hospital but... he looks remarkably whole for someone who took a spill like that. you’d think he’d at least have a bruise to show for it. on the other hand, i love that the first thing he says is ‘i need to call home’. reminds me of season 1 dick and his clumsy attempts to explain away his found family as an ‘alliance of necessity’ or some bullshit. what a long way he’s come!

*gasp* dick’s hallucinating again!!!!!!!!!!!! i’m doing the dick’s hallucinating dance! can you believe that we’re carrying over these huge honking issues unearthed in season 2 onto season 3? can you believe?!!! all that time and effort i spent talking about dick’s mental health from last season has not gone in vain!!

... ahem. anyway. more on this later.

“hold on barbara, i think kory gave me the number to this therapist that she kept calling Hot Psychiatrist Guy...”

9. just an interlude to say that i’m barely halfway through the episode and i’ve already written 2k+ words... ugh. i’m going to try and be more concise.

10. man i fuckin love it when titans goes all out with its weird mindscapes and i’m extra glad that kory’s the focus this time. is that baby kom or maybe a secret sibling that neither of them knew about? was that lady luand’r? and is this place where kory was circling where the secret sibling is? it’s all very intriguing.

(if justin turned out to be that sibling... we’ve a real luke/leia situation on our hands.)

11. aw, i knew that nice security guard was going to die, but it still hurt to see him go :(

12. this show is so bizarre. like i get the mindscape as a narrative device, but jason using sex workers to try and vocalise his guilt about killing hank was just weird. like. i have to use tamil, sorry: idhulaan yaaru pa room pottu yosikara??? some things just can’t be translated into a second language.

i guess one way to interpret jason’s reckoning with what he did to the titans as a sign of him coming off crane’s drug, but i think it’s more to do with the disillusionment of realising that he was a mere pawn in a more sinister plan, and not, as he thought, a player in control of his destiny, rising to the purpose of liberating gotham of its fears in a way batman never could. along the way, he’s done some truly irreversible damage. it’s a bitter pill to swallow.

13. another hallucination! it’s really intriguing that it’s a young dick(?), younger than we’ve ever seen him, wearing an early-era robin costume from way before he even became robin. (this is also interesting in that it gives credence to the idea that ‘robin’ is an identity that dick created entirely on his own, and as a possible homage to his family.)

“old road, old house... it’s all gone.” i wonder what it all means.

13.5. it’s entirely likely dick’s hallucinating because of a brain injury from the accident, though just hallucinations without any other focal neurological deficit is unusual. he might’ve been microdosed with fear toxin at some point, though i wonder when... did jason do so after dick’s accident? did he get dosed at the factory from last episode?

it’s also possible it’s a continuing manifestation of dick’s issues from last season--which, if you remember, he never told anyone about and therefore never properly addressed. maybe he was hallucinating bruce wayne in a psychotic episode accompanying an acute stress reaction and maybe that’s what’s happening now. nobody’s denying that he’s under an extraordinary amount of stress right now. another way to look at it is that this is how he externalises conflict that he can’t bear to suppress anymore; if in s2 halluci!bruce manifested his insecurities and self-loathing, then these hallucinations... something to do with his fears, no doubt.

yet ANOTHER way to look at it might be: rachel is reaching out to him through their, well, psychic bond. after all, they were able to use that bond unconsciously last season to get the titans back together; maybe rachel has learned to gain a degree of control over it in themyscira and is sending across warnings? it’s all very intriguing.

anyway:

“i hear you skipped over the discowing suit in your evolution to nightwing... how could you??”

14. can you imagine, gar did all the work of reaching out to jason via molly and jason wants to meet dick? smh.

14.5. “i’m just a regular guy doing regular things” he says, standing at the opening of a secret old tunnel, like a secret person doing secret things, confronting someone who can now officially be called his stalker. neither of you guys are ‘regular’

14.8. ‘my dad was a cop and he taught me how to investigate’ - hmmm. i guess they’re trying to Explain Tim but i don’t think that’s really necessary. so he’s smart and he’s obsessed with batman and robin--that should be enough, imo.

15. that scene with scarecrow and his mother was... wow. i’m just laughing here helplessly, because what the hell? for a while i thought it was an extended dream sequence and i’m still not entirely sure that it isn’t...

anyway. i still love that titans is happy to throw out its plot in favour of extended character-exploration sessions.

15.5. it seems to me that this scene with crane and his mother (i have no idea if there’s anything in the comics similar to this) serves to move forward this season’s theme of harmful legacies and how parents can damage their children in the name of their mission. in a way it’s been the underlying message of the entire show but we’re really seeing it being reinforced this season. the titans, serving as a foil to scarecrow, are using the damage to rebuild themselves and actually work through their issues together, instead of spiralling further and further into the morass of their issues.

other than that... god, that scene was painful to watch. i can’t say i like this version of scarecrow or how this actor plays him at all.

16. i wonder what’s jason’s play here. i think he’s smart enough to realise that the titans aren’t going to just forgive him and let him be a titan again after what he did, and that dick agreeing to it is just a bid to pin both him and crane down. maybe it’s a ploy to trap them, get back on scarecrow’s good books so that he can have the drug again. who knows.

17. i absolutely felt dick when he said “we’ll bring him in and then re-assess the situation.” what the fuck else is he going to say? the priority is to get him.

so kory and dick are both hallucinating while potentially trying to rehabilitate their murderous siblings. CONFIDE IN EACH OTHER ALREADY

18. TIM NOOOO! you beautiful, reckless fool!

18.25. just to quickly address it here because i know it’s been brought up before: i think it’s perfectly justified to not have conner take tim to the hospital via superspeed because a) i don’t think we’ve seen conner do that with anybody so far and b) it’s probably not a good idea to submit tim’s body to that kind of stress without knowing what it would do to him. the paramedics with actual equipment and experience would be there in a few minutes, so on a risk assessment, i would say dick and conner absolutely made the right call.

18.5. i guess we won’t know what jason really intended to when the titans came to the pump to see him, but this is definitely going to set a big wedge in his relationship with crane. then again, crane got what he wanted--using starfire’s powers to blast through to the underground pipes--so jason can argue that this is exactly what he was working towards, too.

anyway, mortal peril, hallucinations, murderous family members, creepy visions and robins sprouting left and right. time to get rachel and donna on the scene, i think.

#titans #titans spoilers #meta #garfield logan #dick grayson #koriand'r #jason todd #tim drake #jonathan crane #conner kent #komand'r #aaaaah this is 3k+#*collapses in a heap*

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cerastes · 4 years ago

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There is legitimately a lot of intriguing meta to write about Big Bob and Mudrock, such as their role in their respective events being a huge hint towards the lack of unity in the organization even among the leadership, the fact that the two of them are heavily hinted to be veteran soldiers who were in Pre-Talulah Goes Ballistic Reunion, and thus their views on the organization comes not from a place of seething ardor or enfevered souls, but rather, actual passion tempered by logic and the desire to reach an ideal through tangible means that yields tangible results, their respective roles in directly weakening Reunion to a certain degree, with Big Bob fundamentally being a loss in quantity while Mudrock being a loss in quality, and even their respective skillsets suggest their defensive, safekeeping nature: Big Bob’s array of talents are more akin to a survivalist that can keep VIPs or large groups of people safe by being able to discern ambushes, disarm traps, diffuse bombs, and coordinate a large amount of subordinates deftly, whereas Mudrock’s powerful Arts let her sense enemies through vibrations on the earth, create massive Colossi and rock shields that can keep her squadmates safe, and quite literally shape the field to her advantage. Their skillsets clearly can be used for offensive ends, as we have seen firsthand, but ultimately, outside the maps in which we had to fight them, in cutscenes and story segments, their use of their skills are innately protective, and that’s what I want to talk about right now.

Big Bob kept Grani and Carol safe throughout their treasure hunt by disarming traps left both by the ex-Reunion (ordered by him to earn their trust and to be able to get a share of the treasure without conflict) and by the other, unaffiliated bounty hunters (which he did not expect, and was legitimately disarming to keep them safe), and at all times, instructed his ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters’ to not harm a single villager, Grani, or Carol, as he wanted to do this as peacefully as possible. It’s only at the very end when Skadi forces the situation into one of aggression that he grows desperate, and even then, after a short fight, there’s no casualties on either of their sides and a resolution is found. He even has his ex-Reunion repair Dewville, as Grani says in the epilogue, from damages caused by the other bounty hunters.

Mudrock fundamentally doesn’t wish to fight Rhodes Island and is, in fact, only helping the rioters for the express purpose of finding whoever killed Dr. Atro and making them pay their dues. Even after her fight with the Militia and the RI Operators, her Sarkaz second in command chides her for holding back, further showing that she really, really didn’t want unnecessary violence, just the right amount to bring the murderer to justice. As soon as that was accomplished, she immediately signals the retreat and even subdues a large number of the rioters as punishment for their needless violence. She only uses the full capability of her considerable powers in order to protect and retreat.

Compare and contrast to how Mephisto sees his troops entirely as expendable, and only ever uses his great healing prowess to instead practice what is essentially extremely painful necromancy. Another example are the Skullshatterers, who are practically Boss versions of the aptly named Avenger enemy, basically Reunion’s version of Enmity Guards, whose power is to get stronger the more they are hurt, symbolizing their nature as victims drunk in hatred, lashing back blindly and lethally. Even in the most benign examples we can see the contrast, like Faust’s use of his Arts to make things invisible, it’s ultimately a talent used for the express purpose of hurting others, with invisible snipers in his case, and, symbolically speaking, Faust’s small scope of his powers is a metaphor to just how little he can protect while he still remains faithful to Talulah, as he could easily protect others quite effectively with a power like this.

The kits of Rhodes Island Operators are fun because they are congruent with the character personalities and lore: Lappland Silences enemies because she’s a fighting genius that can counter every move, Specter is unkillable because her brain and pain receptors simply turn off when she’s fighting, Ptilopsis literally overclocks her brain to full throttle in order to heal as quickly as possible, you name it, but the kits of Reunion characters also have the same amount of care put into them, and it’s always worth giving them an analytical look. It is no coincidence for Big Bob and Mudrock, who are implied to be veteran Reunion members, to have abilities and talents emphasizing protection and safekeeping first and foremost: They were always there to provide for their fellows first, and to fight a war second, and only if it would give tangible results in the case of the latter, and when it became apparent that their endgame was no longer possible in Reunion, they decided to leave. Their skills were being wasted by being used to primarily inflict pain as this is the opposite of what they ultimately intended.

#I love this armored duo like you wouldn't believe #arknights #big bob #mudrock

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papers4me · 4 years ago

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List of Intriguing Golden Kamuy Characters: (part 1)

As I read more chapters of Golden Kamuy, the characters get more fleshed out & layers upon layers of their broken selves get explored.

A general theme: is the the changing mentality of men before, a mid & after wars. How their psyche & mind change as the brutality of war breaks them apart.This manga is very unique in presenting its characters as human with degrees of good & bad in every one of them. None of these men is innocent & naive. They’re all aware of their current position as war soldiers whether deserters, discharged or on duty. Basically it is a manga abt broken men. Asirpa, the sole female protagonist, is presented as an innocent but practical character, but will she stay the same or will the hunt for gold & the worry for Ainu future change her?

Fascinating aspect: the dynamics between characters are one of the most entertaining in anime that I’ve read! truly unique. The characters, thanks to the plot, are forced to change sides & join different groups repeatedly throughout the story & each time, I discover new brilliant dynamics!!! The humor is good with a dash of adult jokes! The deadly hotel dynamics, the circus dynamics, the trip to Abashiri, the trip to Karafatu dynamics! & more, are all well-done.

Below, I’ll write very short & general broad summary of what I find fascinating abt each character. I’ll divide them into groups. ( contains spoilers)

1.Sugimoto's group:

Saichi Sugimoto: the protagonist. A discharged soldier. He is a troubled soul who has very low self worth despite his immense desire to stay alive. His kindness contrast his violent brutality. He kills criminals/soldiers with no mercy yet he’ll put himself in danger for those he cares for. I’m especially interested in his journey to reconcile with past self. I need for him to have a journey away from Asirpa & everybody. A self cleansing path where he accepts that perhaps it’s okay for him to not end up in Hell. His own personal issues with his past & the guilt he carries coupled with his fear that Umeko (his first love & his friend’s widow) will see the monster that he believes he’s become is highly fascinating to me! How will he deal with that? & if he were to ever meet Umeko again will she sense the past Saichi or the blood drenched Sugimoto or if there will be a different Sugimoto when the gold hunt is over? Perhaps, we won’t ever know. Perhaps letting her go & letting all his past go is part of his new journey? Can you start new while ignoring the past? I need to see Sugimoto’s own journey!

Asripa: 12 or 13 year old girl who is independent & capable to sustain herself without the need of any man. This child’s young age is especially important for the story that is full of adult & veteran men of war as she represents the hopeful future. The future is the children who shouldn’t be plagued by their parents’ sins & desires. Her father put her in the center of danger & threw a huge burden on her. His own dream that is conveniently introduced as the salvation of her ppl. A dream that kept changing with every new step he takes, a dream that clashes with other men’s dream & for them to achieve theirs, they need Asripa who is is in the middle of it all. I want Asripa to find a path that is hers, not her father’s. Moreover, I want her to grow independently from Sugimoto whom she now considers the center of her own dream. She needs to see the world & grow up as a woman before she ties herself with others for life.

Shiraish: A comic relief convict with unique escape skills, who in the later chapters has grown immensely without loosing his comic value! I love his growth!! & yet is to come! he’s become the rational one in the group while being super silly! Very satisfying indeed!

2.The 7th Division: (aka the most fascinating set of characters)

Tokushirō Tsurumi: One of the most well-written villains that I’ve recently come across. He’s fluid, entertaining, manipulative & fascinating. You literally can’t predict his moves or even his moods! Can’t tell if what he’s saying is truth or lie. Tsurumi is the writer’s unchained character cuz while Hijikata is tied a bit by historical reference to a real character, Asirpa to the Auni & Sugimoto as her bodyguard. The writer can simply write Tsurumi freely to fit every shape & every mold. There’s even logical reason for his mood swings & erratic behavior; he lost part of his brain in a war explosion & wears a metal plate to cover the open wound. He’s extremely clever, analytical & his schemes go along way into the past. He even molded & exploited his men to his advantage. He has a tragic background & in the later chapter was able to validly show the pros & cons of Wilk & Hijikata’s plan’s while masquerading his as the more logical one. He can be a comic relief, terrifying, genuine, cunning, loving, despicable, handsome, disgusting & above all it creeps me out how alive he seems in the chapters! he’s so animated I feel he’ll leave the manga panel & invade my space!! good stories need well-written antagonist & the writer really hit it with Tsurumi! well-done.

Hyakunosuke Ogata: Another unpredictable character. Like Tsurumi, he’s given a tragic background & just like Tsurumi as well, he makes unexcused & horrible decisions. Clearly he’s mentally unstable (a running theme in GK). Ogata, in addition to being the best sniper in the show & performing well in war, chose to add innocent victims to his list. He shot his brother & even attempted to kill Asipra, any writer will make this as simply a lunatic character, but this writer chose to tie such unexcused behavior to Ogata’s unstable psyche to show that from his own perspective; it makes sense! Afterall, it’s simply “ normal” to not ever feel guilt over killing human. His brother comes to haunt him in one of the most cinematic scenes & even plays with his mind. You’d think Ogata has gone rouge against everybody? Guess again, he’s got allies. Told you it’s hard to predict!

Genjirō Tanigaki: loved, endearing & dumb. lol. he’s simply a “shoujo girl” in a historic war manga. Tanigaki started dark, torn, filled with guilt in one of the tragic background stories, but was released from his tormented soldier persona by a convict who taught him, it is okay to start a new again. Desert the army, let go of the past & start again. he’s rewarded with a wife & a daughter but not before going on a journey with the others to showcase his manly charms & naive persona! love him.

Hajime Tsukishima: Another fascinated character that silently took me off guard with how much I cared for him! I had to go back & see where did he start! He was a background character assisting Tsurumi, then slowly became a prominent character with his own fascinating background story where you feel for him & see the depth of Tsurumi’s manipulation. I can’t even begin to explain Tsukishima mentality & psyche in this short summary! he’s got depth! that’s for sure.

Otonoshin Koito: the youngest in the division & one of the youngest men in the entire cast, but got high army rank thanks to his father & joining a military academy. You wanna know how manipulative Tsurumi is? read Koito’s background story. epic! Koito is impulsive, stubborn, inexperienced & highly skilled. He’s a bit naive at times but not dumb. He’s got amazing comic relief value tied with plot importance! His dynamics with Tsukishima & Ogata & Sugimoto are brilliant! you’ll never get bored!

Tokishige Usami : another unstable character. He shares Ogata’s belief that it’s normal to not feel guilt. Through him the writer argues that whether you come from tragic background (Ogata) or loving family (Usami), not feeling the slightest guilt over killing human is not normal. Ogata kills his mother while Usami kills his friend, both were young when they did their first innocent kill. However, unlike Ogata, Usami is very loyal to Tsurumi & obsessive of him. He’s strong, skilled, deadly & very creepy!! like very~~~~ creeeeepy~

Kōhei Nikaidō: from one of the creepiest sadistic soldiers to a sad, mentally unstable & tormented shell. He’s become such a valuable comic relief! I used to shudder when I see him, now I can’t stop laughing. Hard fall for the sadistic Nikaido! lol.

Kiktua: a new addition. So secretive & appears level headed & has good sense of morals.

Airko: another new addition: Ainu soldier. Appears naive, with high morals yet indecisive.

I could say more abt each character, but this is meant to be a summary. Each character is deep & has broken mentality that led to their decisions whether excused or unexcused. The convicts & Hijikata are next! But I had to start with Sugimoto & the 7th division! cuz that’s the main dish!

#Golden kamuy #my 1st manga!#sugimoto #tsurumi #asirpa #koito #tsukishima #Tanagiki #Usami #Shirashi #Ogata #excited paper

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tf2workbench · 3 years ago

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What is a crutch?

Bonus post for today!

I actually discussed this a long time ago, probably circa 2017, but I don’t think I got it right then. I didn’t really go to the root of the issue, nor did I do a good job of explaining myself.

To start off with, you may have heard that a certain weapon is a “crutch.” It’s the kind of phrase tossed around in anger, usually by someone who’s just died. As with most things said in anger, we can pretty much ignore it. But is there a grain of truth?

Because it’s usually used to insult people, “crutch” has no real definition other than “I didn’t like the way you killed me.” But it does have a rough definition: a weapon or strategy that “props up” the player, letting them perform well even if they aren’t as “skilled” as their opponents.

(The name, by the way, is misleading. I’ve spent a lot of time on crutches, and if you practice, you can go very much faster than someone who’s not on crutches. Just don’t do it near a busy road. Actually, forget I ever said anything.)

I think that measuring skill is inherently flawed, simply because there’s so many different things that can mark skill. As a Pyro, is skill getting a lot of kills? Reflecting all projectiles? Spychecking? Flashy reflect jumps? Axtinguisher crits? Maybe all of the above, which makes it very hard to measure. There’s also factors like gamesense, which isn’t necessarily tied to mechanical skill.

My point is: for the most part, a “crutch” is in the eye of the beholder. But I do want to use this opportunity to talk about a bit of problematic design.

There is no such thing as a crutch, but there is such a thing as a weapon that’s designed specifically to make the game easier. Let’s look at some examples, in varying degrees of severity:

The Spy-cicle, which protects you from dangerous fire damage (albeit not all the time), allowing you to escape your most dangerous foe.

The Short Circuit, which you can use to destroy incoming projectiles that would otherwise hit your buildings.

The Razorback, a shield that gives you a great deal of protection from Spies, and only Spies.

These weapons are all useful, don’t get me wrong. They let you play a class and have fun in scenarios where you might otherwise be shut out and not having any fun at all. The problem is that they aren’t especially interesting - for the most part, they don’t really change your playstyle that much other than mitigating your weaknesses. They don’t add new dimensions of play.

Examples are best served by a counterexample, so let’s take a look at a weapon that is not a crutch. It’s Jarate, that infamous throwable weapon that lets you reveal Spies. By that definition, its use is to counter one of your counters. But it has a lot more. Jarate can:

Paint targets for your teammates to hit

Combine well with weapons like the Bushwacka and Sydney Sleeper

Extinguish burning teammates in the most disgusting way possible

The playstyle of a Sniper with Jarate is noticeably different than one wielding the SMG. The point is not just to remove Spies, and in fact, the loss of the SMG means that your fights against Spies will be changed quite a bit (whether for worse or for better is up to you).

“Crutch” weapons, by this definition, are not necessarily bad, and I want to move away from the pejorative connotation. Crutch weapons can serve you well, letting you enjoy your match without being completely denied. They can also give beginner players a simpler game, acting a little bit like training wheels to let them get the hang of other mechanics first.

But in the long term, these kinds of weapons aren’t particularly good for the game. They become situational - or overpowered - and don’t add interesting new dimensions of play. The goal of unlockable weapons is to make the game more interesting for all players, and while these kind of training wheel items can help players who would otherwise be at a disadvantage, they don’t provide that kind of interesting gameplay.

One note I want to leave you on is that these items aren’t necessarily a binary yes/no. They’re more like a spectrum; the logical extreme of a training wheel would be an item that plays the game for you. Similarly, it’s also very hard to say whether an item is good/bad in this way. I know that I prefer weapons that play differently from stock items, since they make for a more interesting game and can see usage in a variety of situations. But I also have a lot of experience with TF2, so I’m naturally unfamiliar with the feeling of needing a little leg up to beat a really frustrating player. Whether these weapons are good or not depends on who you ask, because despite their flaws, they do a solid job of helping shake up the hierarchy of players.

What do you think is best for the game? What weapons would you consider “training wheels”? Do you enjoy using them, and why?

#tf2workbench #tf2 #team fortress 2 #general

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razorblade180 · 4 years ago

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Code Black

[Lasting Embers Au] [Warning, it’s dark]

Atlas, three o’clock in the morning. A lone airship soars across the barren tundra to an unmarked Atlas warehouse that had been abandoned for years, until recently that is. Inside, Sienna sat in silence with a deep seeded anxiety that went to her bones deeper than the frigid cold that made its way through the cockpit.

Today was mission 0, final exam day. Every recruit for The Shadows has to take it before actually making it in. They took it one at a time and weren't allowed to speak about it. Not that mattered since each test tailored to the recruit, but none of them were aware of that fact. Everything was so bizarre and mysterious more than usual, even the close. Sienna was in specialized gear for the first time today. A black form fitting bodysuit covered by white military style cargo pants, and turtleneck that would be disposed of once she got out of the snow. Sienna put on her black leather gloves and picked up her very own Shadows mask, which was simply a full face White Fang mask that was painted completely black with specks of grayish white to match her ears. She even had a change of shoes in her duffel bag once the snow boots served their purpose. The bag also housed extra ammunition for her party as well as her chain for the time being. This was a standard op it seems. This was…

xxxx

“A code black, what is that?” Sienna said to Adam in his office, clearly confused by the code. Normal recruits weren’t allowed in the office since only actual members and a few others knew he was alive, but Adam raised her so there wasn’t a real reason for her not to ask directly.

“Yes,” he said. Adam stood up and moved in front of his desk and sat on the edge with his legs stretched out. He found it a little funny how his daughter stood in front of him at attention. “You know it’s just the two of us, relax.”

Sienna shoulders dropped immediately. “Sorry, I was practicing for when we’re in public. It would cause trouble if the others suspected something.”

They already know but I’m glad she’s thinking ahead. “Did they go over the different color codes for recruits by any chance?”

Sienna stood up straight and cleared her throat. “Every mission for The Shadows is given a specific color depending on what kind of operation it is, that way members can have an idea of what’s entail and if they think they are qualified.”

“Did...was that in a handbook or something? Since when do you use words like entail?”

Sienna let out a sigh as she stared at her feet. “Ilia is a very strict instructor.”

Adam immediately felt her pain. Even in the old days, Ilia was always the kind of person to cross her t’s and dot her i’s when it came to just about anything.

“I guess that means you could name a few of those codes.”

“Oh of course!” Sienna perked up immediately. She loved flaunting her knowledge “Red is assassination, white is deep undercover, green is theft, gray tends to be more head to head confrontation, pink is torture…” that last one always creeped her out. “I could name a few more if you like?”

“No you’ve proven your point. I gotta remember to thank Ilia. Teaching was never really my strong suit.” Adam started thinking about how he tried teaching Sienna and Jael to swim. Jacquelyn might’ve actually killed him that day. He still thinks floaties are for the weak. Just dive right in!

Sienna got a little bit more comfortable and decided to sit on his desk next to him. “I’ve memorized almost all the codes and I’m positive I never saw black. Could she have forgotten it?”

Adam turned his body to his daughter. Suddenly everything felt like it had gotten more serious, even the air. “No, Ilia probably didn’t think it mattered since they’re rare. Code black, erasure.”

Sienna’s body went cold. “E-Erasure? As in no evidence, or witnesses?”

“I think you already know the answer to that.” Adam rubbed his hand through his hair. “When it comes to the codes, all the other ones deal with small groups or even a single person that’s typically a key player or just beginning to cause trouble, so completing those missions usually puts whatever plan they had to a complete stop.”

“Like taking a gear out of a machine. Each mission takes a gear out and it gets too complicated to get new pieces.”

“Hey that’s a pretty good way of thinking about it.” Adam smiled. He’d have to remember that analogy.

“So what makes code black different from the rest?”

“Well following your logic, let’s say the other missions were machines that were being built. Many different things are in the progress of creating it and nothing is finalized, there’s not a true system to mass produce the machine. Black codes are for situations where the machine is already up and running. You can take a part out but it will be replaced eventually. So you break the machine along with the factory, with all the workers inside. As well as the inventors.”

“Oh…” was all Sienna could say to that. She could tell he wasn’t just talking about the grunts. If you want a machine to not be built, then even people who know if the idea has to go. “So, can I get specifics?”

“To put it briefly, a terrorist group's main base has been discovered. They’ve been doing things for a while now and with efficiency to boot. They’re incredibly dangerous and though we’ve dwindled their numbers, there’s still a lot of them. People keep joining their ranks which is the very reason we know all about them now. A recruiter slipped up and we got information. Down to the letter. They’re regrouping in two days.”

“So my final exam is to go to the base and…let it all fade to memory, erase it from history.”

“Mass murder, a slaughter.” Adam said it out right, like ripping off a bandaid. Sienna looked down at her hands and clenched them tightly. He had a pretty good idea what was going through her head. Seconds past before she looked back at him with a will that refused to break.

“What else do I need to know.” The anxiousness in her voice was being pushed back with all her strength. She knew what this job was about. Turning back was not an option. It was never an option.

“Code blacks are only carried out by the absolute best here, all of them. With the exception of me this time because it’s a test. I don’t trust myself to not baby you.”

At least he was honest about it.* Sienna honestly wished he was going but yeah, it would totally be cheating. Well, possibly. What she was being graded on was a mystery to her.

“Wait...” she replayed what he told her. “The absolute best? Do you mean-”

Adam put his hand on her head and rubbed it. “Yep. Just follow their lead and you’ll be fine. Do your best Sienna.”

xxxx

Turbulence hit the airship and the mask slipped out of her hands. Right before it hit the ground, Mercury’s foot hooked the inside of it and he sent it back up into her hands. “Careful, can’t have that breaking on us.”

Emerald sat right next to him and hit him lightly on the head. “If that’s your worry then maybe don’t use your feet?” She said, deadpanned. She might’ve hit him again if Neo didn’t turn around from steering and motioned towards their clearly one edge recruit.

Neo didn’t even have to speak for them to know she wanted them to do something. Mercury gave Emerald a look and shrugged his shoulders.

“Got any ideas?” He whispered.

Emerald shrugged back. “Maybe what Nora does for Tenzen? That calms his nerves.

Mercury thought about it for a minute then nodded. Sienna had completely zoned out, caught up in her mind when the feeling of Mercury’s hand ruffling her hair shocked her out of it.

“What the!? Hey!”

Mercury smiled. “There, now you can worry about your hair instead of anything else.” He watched the girl fix her pixie cut while giving him a pouty look that hid a small smile.

“That was so dumb” Sienna muttered. “Thanks.”

Mercury gave her a thumbs up then sat back down next to his wife. He peeked over at Neo who also gave him a thumbs up. So far so good. Missions could get tense so it was important to stay loose.

The ride continued for another twenty minutes before the ship finally landed. Sienna didn’t say anything but had decided it was best to mimic some of their movements. Checking shoes, stretching, putting on the mask; no way was she going to look like a complete noob. Though she did almost gasp from shock when she all three entirely suited up. There was something really cool about the only differences was the speckled pattern on the masks. She hadn’t seen herself in a mirror so she wondered if she looked just as intense.

Mercury opened up the door,letting in a rush a cold air that snapped Sienna into focusing. One by one they hopped out into the tundra. There was nothing but snow for miles, except for a cliff in the distance. Not extremely far, but far enough for Sienna to ask the dreadful question.

“We’re heading to the cliff by foot, aren’t we?” She really didn’t want to complain but the idea of it was really making her consider failing. Neo laughed at the girl though.

“I don’t need to see your face right now to know what you’re thinking. As entertaining as it would be to say yes, I need you in high spirits. That cliff is our destination, however….” Neo pulled out her scroll and started texting. “We’re on a tight schedule so we’re gonna cut a corner or two.”

A red portal opened up in front of her. Mercury and Emerald walked through immediately while Neo grabbed Sienna’s hand then led her through. Red and black consumed everything before she saw white again. They were on the cliff, just like that!

Sienna turned around to see the portal closing. Before it did, she caught a glimpse of a figure in red and black. It was easy to see that they were a woman by their outfit but Sienna couldn’t think of one person from what little details she saw. The hair did remind her of the blonde woman she met once. Yang was it? She couldn’t remember. Sienna turned back around to see an extra person she did recognize. Ilia was on her stomach at the edge of the cliff and looking through the scope of a sniper rifle. She was geared up like everyone else and seemed to have been here for quite awhile. Her hair had changed white but Sienna could see plenty of snow in it. Sienna walked over to her and went into a prone position as well.

Down below was the abandoned base. It looked like a base and more of a Frankenstein’s monster. The structure had looked part warehouse and part oil rig with how many pipes and beams there were, not to mention the size. The building was pretty huge from this far away but that made sense. There’s supposed to be a lot of these terrorists here. If it wasn’t for the wind then she could probably hear most of them. A good thing to keep in mind for later.

“See anything?” Sienna asked.

Ilia perked her head up and looked at the girl confused? “Wait, this is your test?”

Now Sienna’s face matched Ilia’s. “Dad didn’t tell you?”

“No, he just said this mission was extra special. Now I see why. Did the flight here agree with you?”

“Yes ma’am, I’m ready” her voice held a certain apathy to it that Ilia noticed right away. She gave Sienna some binoculars and turned her head towards some large busted pipes.

“See that? That is an old pipeline that was used for transporting dust. This base should still have plenty inside and even residue all up through it.”

“So… we’re blowing this place up?”

Ilia nodded. “That’s half right. They’re big enough for someone to go through without much of a problem. No doubt they lead somewhere inside.” Ilia takes the binoculars back. “That’s where you’re going.”

“I see…” Sienna bit her lip. If I understand this right, I’m taking out people from inside, I assume Neo disguises herself and goes through the front door, you’re picking off anyone who tries escaping if things get loud…” she turned to look at Em and Mercury. “I guess one of you goes for the higher up places?”

Emerald almost wanted to clap. “ Not half bad with these guesses, any rhyme to your reason?”

“It’s not like I don’t know what you all are particularly good at. That being said, Mercury, what are you doing?”

“Hmm what do you think I should do?” He cracked his knuckles. “If you were running this op, what would be your orders?”

Gears in her head were turning. There was a high chance that this was the test portion and the others would compensate accordingly. They were pros so no doubt they could actually fill any role. She however could not. Sienna knew she was bound to make a mistake. A slip up that might make things more challenging in the long run. Sienna needed a safety net.

“You’re with Mercury. If I’m going right into the lion's den then I might need help when things eventually get loud.”

“Roger that. Consider me your extra muscle.”

Glad to know my lessons got through to her. Ilia thought to herself. She looked back at everyone, they were all ready.

“What are y’all standing around here for? You heard the lady. Remember to keep calm and take off the snow camouflage when you’re inside. There could be hundreds in there and I’d like to do this quietly for as long as possible. It’ll make my life easier. Sienna, would you like to do the honors?”

Sienna nodded, “Let the operation begin.”

xxxx

“This operation stinks.” Sienna said while holding her breath in. These old pipes were disgusting! Her and Mercury must’ve been traveling down them for at least ten minutes. Both were now in black and besides from Mercury’s hair, it was pretty damn hard to spot him. Sienna was confident in her decision.

“Yeah stealth tends to have the smellier routes. They typically put us in sweet spots though.” Finally they reach an exit point in the form of a vent opening on the ground. Sienna looked down and spotted crates of old dust. The lights were dim and she could faintly here one, no, two people.

“Two people, far end of the room. They sound like two guys,older guys.” She whispered.

“One for you and one for me then. You ready?”

Sienna ignored the smell and took a deep breath to calm the last bit of her nerves and removed the vent. Mercury saw her ears fold down.

“Word of advice, it helps if you make it brief. For you and-”

“I’ve killed before Mercury.” She briefly takes off her mask to let him see her blank expression. Her eyes almost looked devoid of anything. Almost like a broken doll. Sienna put her mask back on. “Let’s get started.”

Sienna hopped down and immediately rolled behind the crates. Mercury followed suit. They poked their heads over them to see two people with rifles simply chatting. It would appear Sienna and Mercury had entered through the basement and the guards were meant to keep people from getting inside this room. Too bad for them. Sienna pulled out and looked at Mercury. He gave her nod and held up fingers, then two, and finally one. He dropped the last finger and they immediately vaulted over the crates, kicking off the edge of it to propel themselves right out the guards. The one on the left didn’t even register the blade gliding across his throat while the one on the right found himself trying to breathe desperately as his neck was in a deadly choke hold. In seconds they were both gone, two down. Sienna looked down at the body for a second before picking it carefully and placing it behind the crate. Mercury grabbed his duffel bag and pulled out a timed bomb that would blow in forty minutes.

“Shouldn’t take us this long to wrap this all up but it gives us wiggle room.”

“I can hear twenty more right above us, then another thirty above them. Anything above that is too muffled to tell.”

“Interesting, grab your chain. We’re gonna get creative.”

xxxx

Ilia watched the outside carefully. She can see Emerald taking down terrorists on the roof and Neo was visible a few minutes ago through a window. She was wearing her favorite disguise. The one with green eyes and black hair. “ She should really switch things up sometimes.” Illia thought aloud. Ilia kept watching. Twenty minutes had passed.

I wonder if Sienna is holding up? Mercury won’t baby her but I hope he shows some kind of compassion. That girl, she’s…

Ilia couldn’t help but think of Sienna’s eyes when they first met. The coldness, the complete lack of light they had. Sienna was in many ways still that girl. No matter how much love Adam and Jacquelyn has given her. That’s why Adam must’ve chosen this code for her. He knew Sienna had to traverse her demons, not block them off. Even if he hated the idea of it.

“Anyone got any info for me?” Ilia said, pressing a button on her earpiece.

“Top floor has forty, the main floor has about sixty.” Emerald responded. “What about you Neo?”

“I’m on the main floor. From what I can see there’s no one here huntsman grade. I doubt these people have aura honestly which makes sense. They keep trying to replenish troops because of us so guns are all they really got. Anyone know what the leader looks like?”

“All I know is that they’re a woman.” Emerald scanned the area. “Which means nothing without any features. Mercury, you and Sienna make it inside?”

There was no response. “Mercury?” Emerald said again but still didn’t get an answer. “Could they be held up?”

“Well we at least know they haven’t been made. Everyone would’ve been alerted if they had.” Neo looked along the worn down walls and followed the trail of pipes with her eyes. “ Want me to go look for them?”

Ilia bit her lip and looked at her scroll. Their aura was still full. “Don’t poke around too much. They should be-”

“Basement is full of live ammo, the floor above has seventeen, and the one above has thirty. The woman in charge has red eyes? White hair, and in a yellow suit.” Mercury said, abruptly. Ilia started looking through the windows of each floor she could until a woman with that description briefly passed by the top floor.

“Second floor, right side of the wall.”

Neo looked up and spotted the middle aged woman. What really caught her eye was the five people in black tuxes that made to stay several feet away, but close enough to keep an eye on things. Three of the five were also women who looked almost as stone cold as Cinder was. The two looked like loads of fun as well.

“She has five bodyguards, and I’ll bet my favorite hat they are huntsman level, or military trained at the very least. If this woman called this whole group here then she’ll probably make a speech. Could be a good opportunity to take her down.”

“That aside, Mercury, why did it take you so long to answer? Ilia asked.

xxxx

Mercury took a moment before responding. He stared at his that were thankfully covered by his gloves to avoid blood stains and evidence. He then looked at two more dead bodies that had piled with the first two. “I was trying to get some answers.” He finally answered.

“And where’s Sienna?”

“Sienna….Sienna is the one who got the info.” He said, with a bit of shock. No one said anything after that for several seconds, until Ilia spoke again.

“Do I even wanna know?” A bit of concern was in her voice.

Mercury looked towards the middle of the room to see their third victim on top of one of the crates, his toes barely scraping the top of it. The only thing stopping the man from screaming is the chain around their neck that was thrown over a support beam and being held tightly by Sienna.

“No, just know it’s handled. Say I was thinking we might need to speed things along, and I’m not just saying that because the time on the bomb has about half the time on it. Probably should’ve made it remote detonate.” He said, looking at the bomb options.

Sienna finally let the body drop now that it had expired. She made no attempt to hide her displeasure in doing torture, her hand clenching her stomach out of obvious disgust. It was one of the few things that truly ate away at her. “The only reason Mercury and I haven’t sent off anyone is because they know better than to shoot in a highly explosive room.”

Mercury walked over to her and rubbed her back. Suddenly she felt a lot less nauseous. He couldn’t see her gentle smile, the wiggle of her ears said thank you on their own. “Sooner or later they’re gonna realize five people are missing, and get suspicious.”

“The point of a code black mission is erasure right? You also said it’ll eventually get loud. May I suggest something?” Sienna asked.

“It’s your test squirt.” Neo replied.

“Let’s just blow everything up now. The explosion will at least get the floor below us, but this place doesn’t look too stable. Won’t the cold kill any stragglers trying to escape? Picking them off wouldn’t be too hard and if Neo or Em can kill the boss in the middle of the chaos then we’re on the up and up. I know it’s risky, not to mention completely chaotic…”

Sienna looked out the basement entrance and could see dozens of feet and shadows constantly moving. “But there’s just so many of them. They need to panic.”

Ilia looked around the building and saw several airships. Maybe, just maybe… “Emerald, can you be a dear and make sure no one can fly away?”

“We’re actually just blowing this place up?”

“Yes we are. It’s fucking cold out here and I’d like to get this done before sunrise. Sienna…”

“Ma’am?”

“The hard part starts now. Stay focused, and safe.” Her tone carried a sense of maternal love that made Sienna’s chest warm. Ilia caring about her was something she always knew but it was nice to actually hear it in a way that wasn’t a lecture or intense drills. It was weird when Sienna thought about it. Ilia must’ve known how on edge this was making her. They all seemed to.

Mercury pulled out his combat knife and handed it to Sienna. “Here, you’ll use it more than me.” Sienna twirled his and her knife in each hand. The weight felt good, unnervingly good.

“I know this isn’t the same, but all of us here have done some pretty dreadful things at extremely young ages. So if this is too much or you need to vent, we’re all ears. Except Neo. She’s really chatty.

Sienna couldn’t help but chuckle at that comment. “Thanks” Her attention turned towards the door filled with looming threats just outside of it. “I might take you up on that offer.”

xxxx

Life, a precious thing bestowed to all but never in equal shares. That’s how Mercury saw it anyways. To him, the world was always a place where your life depended on robbing that precious thing from others in some shape or form. He still believed that to a certain degree. Even while his own was fading.

The bomb had gone off several minutes ago. Thick smoke and immense heat from the rapidly spreading flames surrounded each crumbling floor as bullets flew in every direction, the screams of panic constantly attacking his eardrums. He felt a little bad for how much he couldn’t care less. Especially since he’s been on the wrong side of the law most of his life. He was more jaded than he thought. Emerald would say otherwise but she was just being nice. He’d miss that about her.

Mercury leaned against a broken wall clenching his left side. A lucky aimed grande had gone off inches away from him and took almost all of the shrapnel. Even with aura, his ribs didn’t enjoy that one bit. The pain was almost too much to bear. Between that and the heat, Mercury’s vision was starting to blur. Halfway across the room he could still make out a figure, that obviously wasn’t friendly, point a gun at him with deadly accuracy. All he could do was cough and try to stand, but his legs gave out on him. For once he missed the prosthetics.

“Well Em, looks like you don’t have to deal with my terrible sense of humor anymore.” He wheezed. Mercury held his arms in front of his body, hoping he had enough aura left to take a few more bullets. He never got the chance to know as the marksman gun got snatched from his hands by a chain and was quickly used against him, ending his life. It all happened too fast, or maybe it was because of his mission, but Mercury didn’t know what just happened.

“S- Tigress?” He said, barely catching himself from using her name in the middle of a fight. He couldn’t see her. All he saw, were the sway of flames. They flickered almost like a dying candle each time before he heard a scream or saw gunshots stop in a direction. A shadow on the walls contoured and flowed like a wave that engulfed other shadows like a predator on the hunt.

It was only when that shadow lunged out of the flames did he see what it was. Sienna crouched several feet in front of him on a body, someone in a suit that was breathing their last breath as Sienna pulled knives out of their chest. She didn’t appear to notice him, not at first. Her head was too busy swiveling to locate her next target. Mercury felt his soul leave his body the moment their eyes locked. The absolute hunger and lack of anything but fiery bloodlust made her look like a demon than anything else. Not even wild animals or grimm showed this kind of evil, this overwhelming desire to kill. Her blood soaked clothes and mask didn’t help either. This was Sienna? This was the same twenty year old girl he comforted earlier? One thing was for sure, nothing was robbing Sienna of her life.

She approached him slowly. The way she stayed low and never blinked made Mercury almost wish she stayed away. Sienna didn’t though. She got closer and closer until he was in arms reach. Mercury closed his eyes tightly in fear. He could feel her hand press against his mask gently, then adjusted it slightly.

“Icarus?” He heard her call out his code name. He opened his eyes slowly to see the soulless eyes replaced with the warm and sincere eyes he had gotten used to. “Are you okay?” She spoke again.

“I-I uh, can barely stand.” The lump in his throat was serious. It had been awhile since he felt this level of fear. That’s all he could think to call it. Sienna had managed to terrify him. A feat only achieved by a select few. Salem, his father, Neo, and his first encounter with Jacquelyn, to name a few.

Sienna lifted his arm and used herself as a crunch to support him. “Lady Em would be really upset if my plan killed you. Can’t have that now can we? Let’s get you somewhere a little bit cooler.”

“You should be...more concerned about completing the mission. Complete erasure remember?”

“I remember. I also remember you saying I could chat with you later if I wanted. I’m a ‘have your cake and eat it too’, kind of gal.” Sienna took no further protest from him and began walking. One of the good parts about a blown up building was the many holes leading outside. It took no time at all to find a sizable one to get through. Sienna placed by some debris out of reach of the flames but not too far to get cold. She looked to the right of her to find an abandoned rifle and gave it to him.

“Play dead or fight whoever you can. I’ll let our resident sniper know where you are to watch your back. This won’t take much longer by the sound of it.”

Mercury said nothing. He simply watched her walk back into flames, the faint sense of her intent to kill returning to her before she was out of sight.

Sienna could feel her body go numb again. It was only moments later when another person jumped out ready to fight and quickly regretted the idea as they saw a knife fly into the air, and get stuck in their windpipe. All of this felt so familiar to her.Blood, fire, tears, screams; what ruled her nightmares was back again happening in reality. How many have died by her hand now? At least forty five by now. In a single day, the blood on her hands had gone up forty three, yet that first two still clawed its way to the front of her mind. She could never forget that day. It wouldn’t allow her to forget that day. The day she died twice by her own hands. Sienna continued walking through the flames, looking for the next target.

xxxx

The ride back home was quiet. Ilia had decided to be the one flying since she didn’t have to fight up close while Mercury was fast asleep in his seat. Emerald clung to his arm, sleeping as well. The woman was almost moved to tears when she saw how battered he had gotten. Mercury tried to play it cool but Sienna got the feeling he was so relieved to be in Emerald’s embrace again. Sienna could see the love between them as clear as a shining star. She was happy that they were together again. Sienna hoped she too would find a love like that. A love that took the pain away. Not that her family didn’t do that, but she hoped that she'd find it from a stranger as well. Adam did it, so it was possible. Neo was awake for the whole ride but said very little. Ilia told Sienna that Neo tended to fall back into being mute after missions like these. As if they brought back the old her from days long past. Maybe that’s why she was so good at what she did. Even the shining pink in her eyes held a different presence to them. Somehow Sienna understood it perfectly.

Sienna wasn’t in a chatty mood anyways. She calmly waited for the airship to reach its destination when she realized it was landing in Menagerie, but not in town. It had landed by her house.

“It would be pretty awful for you to have to walk home or not sleep in your own bed after tonight.” Ilia commented.

“You could’ve dropped me off at my bunk.”

“What bunk? Those are for recruits, not full fledged members. I’d say congratulations but that sounds a little inappropriate so..” Ilia held out her hand. “Welcome to The Shadows.”

Sienna didn’t know what to say. She went to shake Ilia’s hand but realized she had never taken off the gloves that were now covered in dried blood. Almost all of her was like that. Sienna hadn’t even realized her mask was still on. She took it off and finally breathed her first breath of fresh air in hours. She removed the gloves as well and shook Ilia’s hand.

“Thanks” was all she could muster to say. Sienna turned around to hop off but not before exchanging looks with Neo. They raised their adrenaline filled fists and bumped them before Sienna finally left.

“What do you think she’ll do now?” Ilia asked

“I don’t have to think, I know exactly what comes next.” Neo responded before standing up and walking to the restroom inside the ship.

Sienna took the several foot walk home before staring at the front door to see both her family standing before her. Sienna suddenly started to feel hot. Her stomach churned and her throat tightened before tears welled up frantically. The adrenaline in her body left and Sienna dropped to her knees, vomiting hard into the sand. Adam quickly ran to her side while Jacquelyn stood by her second daughter.

“Jael go get your sister some water.”

“Yes ma’am.” Jael ran inside, taking the hint.

Jacquelyn walked over to Adam who was rubbing Sienna’s back as she wept. Jacquelyn followed suit by hugging the girl tight, silently shushing her and rubbing her fingers through her hair.

“Why?” Sienna gasped, “Why did it feel so good? My head went back to that day and everything just felt so wrong yet so...so natural! I felt… comfortable even. Like I finally got to take all that anger and give it back tenfold! How do you deal with that feeling!? How do you live with it!?”

Sienna balled her eyes out into her mother’s chest. If her voice wasn’t so horse then she’d probably scream her lungs out. Everything she did should’ve felt disgusting and it did to a certain degree, but not the way it should’ve. Sienna knew she’d do it again in a heartbeat. The feeling of Adam’s arms wrapping around here back controlled her breathing a little. The embrace of both of her parents somehow only brought more tears. It’s like she had forgotten what it’s life to feel safe until now. Adam let go briefly and turned her head in his direction. Her distressed face was enough to break his heart a thousand times over.

“I can’t say I have an answer for you, but know I’ll be here as long as it takes until we find the answer.”

“We both will.” Jacquelyn chimed in.

Sienna pulled them back into her arms as physically possible and simply wept. She opened her eyes briefly to see Jael watch from the door and Sienna extended her arm for the girl to come rushing in, giving her big sister all the love she could give. At last...

Daybreak came.

#rwby #rwby au #emercury #rwby lasting embers #sienna frost #jacquelyn frost #adam taurus #jael frost #ilia amitola #neo politan #mercury black #emerald sustrai

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hotcaramelmachiatto · 6 years ago

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Luffy x Reader

Imagine: Being Luffy's friend when you were children with Sabo and Ace and running into (quite literally) him at Loguetown. He asks you to join his crew!

Pairing: Luffy x fem! close friend! witch! Reader

Warning: fluffy

H/c=hair color | s/c=skin color | y/n/n= your nickname

You sighed, pulling your cloak over shoulders and tucking your wand into your belt. Being the extremely clever witch you were, you had just swindled your way into halfing the price of your ingredients for your next potion. You desperately needed them and if swindling meant using a sleeping spell on the shop owner, then so be it. Your dream was to become the worlds greatest and most powerful witch. As a child, your parents died and you were raised by a small coven of witches who taught you everything you knew.

You smiled softly at the memory of your adopted family until you heard the shop keeper shout at you from the small distance you had put between yourself and the shop of oddities.

"Thief!! Stop her!!!" The shop keeper started yelling and causing a commotion, so you did the most logical thing you could think of.

You ran. Down the alleyway and down the street.

"Shit," you cursed to yourself as you dodged the streetfolk.

Only recently did you get a high bounty, being worth 100,000,000 belly, dead or alive. You attacked a Marine base and managed to flatten the entire building because some oppressive Marines were abusing your little coven. Your witches weren't the strongest but they were kind women with warm hearts. When one of them, Grandmother Poppyseed, refused to comply to their demands any longer, they killed her in front of your eyes. You were so filled with rage that you attacked the Marines for revenge. Not your proudest moment but you don't regret a single thing. You free your coven and gave back the stolen goods the Marines had taken from your fellow witches. But, because of your bounty, you had to leave them. You couldn't make yourself put them in harm's way. So you left to pursue your dream, landing you here. Running from a shop keeper.

You made a sharp turn, hoping to shake anyone who was on your tail, and ran right into someone. Their skin was so . . . . rubbery? Wait. . .

You know this skin. You've felt the rubber before.

"Uuugggghhh. . . what the?" It was. It was Luffy!! You had him sandwiched (hehehehe sand witched) between your bust and the cobblestone ground. "What's goin on?"

"Luffy!! Is it really you?!" You squealed, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. He rubbed his eyes and looked up at you with a perplexed look on his face before his eyes brightened and shone like the sunlight bouncing off the ocean waters. He wrapped his rubber arms around you three or four times and squeezed, his legs wrapping around your waist, causing the pair of you to roll over giggling like morons.

"Y/n!! Its been so long!! I'm so happy to see you!!" He buried his face in your neck like he always used to and you squeezed him tighter. Its been years since you've seen him. Of course you kept up with the News Coo and read all about him as well as supported him in spirit, but you never thought you'd run into him. Literally.

"Luffy! I can't believe it!" You pulled away just enough to look at him, cupping his cheeks in your hands tenderly. You smirked and squeezed and pulled on them, making him make all kinds of faces.

"Oooowww! Y/n/n at uuurrrtttssss!!!" (That hurts!) He whined and pouted, unhooking his arms around around your curved waist to nurse his cheeks. You two were so lost in each other's world that you completely missed the several stunned faces staring at you. Luffy's Nakama, the Straw Hats, were watching this little reunion in utter confusion.

"Can someone explain to me what the hell is happening? Is- does Luffy have a-?"

"Y/n/n has been my best friend since we were kids! Isn't that right, y/n/n?" Luffy interrupted a beautiful young girl with short orange hair. You nodded in response and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, his hugging your waist.

"Sorry, Lu. I didn't mean to just run into you." You stood up and offered him your hand, to which he took and stood up. You opened your mouth to intoduce yourself until a man with big pink heart eyes and yellow hair threw himself at your feet.

"Oh Y/n-swan!! You're absolutely gorgeous!! Your smooth s/c skin, your h/c hair, your beautiful perfect eyes!! You're perfect!! Please, find it in your heart, marry me!!" He squealed as he took your form in. Your curves, your bust, your long legs. He was practically drooling until the green haired swordsman smacked him with the hilt of one of his . . . three swords?

"Damn ero-cook." He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Teme!! You dare swear in front of such a lovely woman?!??" The yellow haired man growled, practically on fire. You chuckled and slung an arm over Luffy's shoulders.

"Its all good. I'm Y/n. I knew Luffy when he was a snot nosed brat." You bumped him with his hip and he pouted.

"Its nice to meetcha. Im Nami." The orange haired woman spoke up with a smile. "Ero-cook is named Sanji and the green Morimo is Zoro. That guy is Usopp." She pointed to each guy.

"Hi! I'm Usopp!!" He puffed his chest out to look more manly and you snorted at him. "I'm the strongest sniper you'll ever meet!"

"I'm sure. Its nice to meet you all too." You smiled, resting your hand on your hip.

"What're you doing here, Y/n/n?" Luffy spoke up, tilting his head and making you smile softly at your childhood friend's cuteness.

"I was just doing some shopping for my next potion. I'm hoping to make the first potion that let's devil fruit users able to swim again." You smiled proudly and Luffy's eyes practically popped out of his head.

"NANI?!?!?!" The whole crew exclaimed in unison.

"Its not possible, though! Devil fruit users make the ocean hate them. You couldn't possibly undo something like that." Usopp's jaw looked like it needed to be lifted off the ground with a forklift and you laughed lightly at the sight.

"Do you know how much money you could make if you made one of those?!?" Nami screeched and buried her fingers in her hair.

You shrugged, "Probably a lot. But I'm not interested in the money."

". . . . can I have it then?" Nami pursed her lips in a puppy faced pout that Sanji gushed over and Zoro rolled his eyes at.

"I guess. I'm still in the process of figuring things out but its hard because I dont have anyone to test it on. I'm not a devil fruit user." You peaked into your bag and grabbed your prototype. It was a green and orange thin liquid that sloshed around in the purple vial you had it stored in. "This isn't the final product but with this I got fairly close according to my limited research." You were about to put it away when Luffy took it from your hands.

"Ill test it for you!" He chimed happily, opening the vial. A foul smell came from the green and orange steam that floated out of the vial.

"Luffy, it could be dangerous! Its not-"

Before you could continue further, he doesn't the whole thing and made you facepalm.

"Ew!! Y/n/n, that's gross!!" He stuck his tongue out and made a face. "Now I feel sick." He whined and clutched his stomach.

"She tried to tell you. Baka." Usopp spoke and shook his head and so did the rest of the crew.

"I have some golden ginger root that's really good for stomach aches when you make tea out of it. If you like, I can make some." You offered, shrugging your shoulders.

"Yay!! Y/n/n is coming back to our ship!!" Luffy squealed happily.

"Yay!! Y/n-swan!!!" Sanji squealed along side Luffy. This was perfect. You got to be with Luffy again and you got away from being in trouble.

"You guys go ahead. I need to do some shopping." Nami slung her satchel full of belly over her shoulder.

"Me too," Zoro agreed and started walking off.

"I better go with him to make sure he doesn't get lost." Usopp ran after Zoro and Nami split off as well with a smile and a wave.

"I actually need to get groceries. Luffy, do you remember where we left the ship?" Sanji asked like the responsible adult he really wasn't. But he was the most responsible one left.

". . . . yes." He pouted and held his stomach.

"You don't. Just go that way. Its the Going Merry." Sanji explained to you gently and pointed in the general direction.

"Sounds good. Luffy will recognize her when he sees her." You nod and take Luffy's hand in his, just like when you were kids. "Be safe on your grocery run. Marines are crawling all over this place. We'll be back after a couple of hours." You smile and lead Luffy towards where Sanji pointed. You were a little surprised at how quickly the crew seemed to have trusted you but you assumed it was mostly because you were so close with their captain.

It was a fairly short walk to the Going Merry. You boarded the ship, helping a complaining Luffy to his seat.

"You should know not to drink my potions without asking me first. Remember my fire resistant potion? Your arms had to get all wrapped up." You giggled when you remember Luffy purposely pissing off Ace to make him punch Luffy in the arm and practically light him on fire. You gently smile and bend down so you were shorter than him. "Are you alright? Does it still hurt?"

"You make me feel better, so my tummy is better." He wrapped his arms around your waist and bury his face in your breasts. "Soft~"

"You're such a baby." You giggle and take his hat, putting it on your head. He always let you take his hat without a fuss, but if anyone other than you ever touched his hat he would freak. Softly, your fingers ran through his black locks and massaged his scalp. He let out a small sigh of appreciation and let his muscles and body relax at your touch.

"I missed you, Y/n/n." He spoke up.

"I miss you too, Lu. I'm glad to see you're ok. I got worried when I stopped hearing from you." You pulled on his cheek a little bit, watching it stretch.

"I know. I got my crew and my ship and how all I gotta do is find One Piece and become King of the Pirates." He mumbled into your flesh and squeezed you tightly. "Y/n."

"Hm?" You kissed his forehead sweetly, like you always do when you cuddled when you were children.

"Become my nakama." The way he spoke didn't leave any room for argument.

"Lu, I'm a witch with a big ass bounty on my head. I'm not so sure-"

"My bounty is bigger than yours!! I'm worth 500,000,000!! Zoro is worth 320,000,00!! It doesnt matter. BECOME MY NAKAMA!!!!! AND WHEN THATS OVER BE MY PIRATE QUEEN!!!!!!" He jumped up, his stomach ache forgotten completely. To say you were shocked would be an understatement, but you had no problems with it.

"Ok."

"Yay!!! That was easy. Now, can I have some tea? My tummy hurts." He rubbed his stomach and pouted.

"Luffy, you're such a dumbass." You giggled and got to work boiling the water. ". . . . . Queen of the Pirates, huh?"

Luv: welp. That's a thing I did. It was long. Feel free to leave comments, suggestions, anything! ❤ 😊

#one piece x reader #luffy imagines #luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy x reader

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irikahkrios · 6 years ago

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Oh nooo. How did Thane find out about Wraith’s true identity?? Asking for the dRAma

THE DRAMAAAAAA

okay so like,,,, for the sake of having everything in one place, first i’ll go into her backstory in this au and how they even got to this point. under a cut, because it’s fucking long.

so in this au, obviously irikah isn’t killed. the leadup is a lot like what happened in ME canon, thane’s enemies come and attack her and she puts up a hell of a fight, but she’s ultimately taken away instead of murdered. since this au operates on Comic Book Logic, they give her as a test subject to this group of shady scientists they have dealings with, who are working on applications of matter distortion. specifically, applications that have to do with torture and execution. basically they’re testing a machine that distorts and displaces the subject’s matter, causing really painful and deadly results. she manages to slip out of her bonds for a short time, but can’t leave the facility because it’s too heavily guarded. she figures she’s going to die no matter what and decides that in one final act of defiance, she’s going to fuck with the machine and hopefully cross enough wires to make it explode or something. she succeeds.

immediately after they turn the machine on and hit her with the matter distortion ray, the building and everyone in it is blown the fuck up. everyone except her. turns out that whatever she did to the machine made it do something pretty unusual; she now has the power to distort/displace matter. she also has no memories of anything before the explosion. she doesn’t remember who she is, or how she got there, all she knows is that 1) she’s sitting in the smoking remains of a building and 2) she has superpowers.

there’s a lot of practical applications of matter distortion and displacement: she can move all the atoms in her body by small amounts extremely quickly, resulting in a form of super speed, she can teleport short distances, she can make herself intangible so that she can move through walls and weapons and bullets pass right through her. despite not having her memories, at her core she is still the same kind, empathetic, yet impulsive woman who thought throwing herself into the path of a sniper’s shot to protect someone she’d never met was a reasonable thing to do, and so it doesn’t take long until she starts using these newfound powers to protect people on the streets. she probably makes friends with other heroes who give her a place to stay and show her the ropes. around this time, she chooses the superhero name “wraith” for herself, due to her rather ghost-like powers. over the next ten years or so, she makes a name for herself as a hero, eventually joining the same team/found family as all the other superheroes in this au.

meanwhile, everything happens for thane and kolyat the same way it did in ME canon. irikah is presumed dead, partially because of how much blood was found at the scene (she really did put up a hell of a fight; a good deal of it wasn’t hers), and when thane goes on his “killing everyone who killed my wife” spree, none of them know what exactly happened at the facility and just assume she died (comic book logic, bear with me, there’s plot holes everywhere in this story but it’s a pulpy superhero drama mass effect au let me have my fun), so when he talks about how they killed his wife none of them really argue with that. thane goes into Emotionally Empty Grieving Widower Assassin Mode for the next ten years, kolyat grows up without either of his parents, and things are really bad just like they are in canon.

ten years have passed, and thane has recently moved to the planet and city where all the superheroes live and operate, and has begun to take regular assassination jobs from supervillains. it’s nothing personal, he’s just a professional who hires out his skills, and most of the people who would hire an assassin happen to be supervillains. he considers himself morally neutral. anyway, he takes a lot of jobs in quick succession and carries them out masterfully because He’s Good At What He Does, and for a while the team is baffled by this master assassin who thwarts them at every turn and always seems to be one step ahead of them. eventually, sunsurge and archangel manage to catch up to him. they need his help to take a more dangerous villain down, and he agrees. the three of them work together on that mission, and on a few more. they’re the only members of the team he meets and works with. eventually, after months of working together and forming a bond, they manage to convince him that instead of being a weapon for the highest bidder, he should use his skills and join their team. do something good. protect people. he agrees, part of him thinking deep down that it’s what she would have wanted.

they’re showing him around the team’s headquarters for the first time when he sees her. he freaks the fuck out. he falls to his knees in front of her, just like he did that day in her lab so many years ago, and he’s amazed and confused and crying and she’s....unimpressed. she can’t help but believe him, and is grateful to know her real name and to start to piece together some of the details of her life. but it doesn’t like, all come flooding back to her or anything. and with her deeply-held devotion to justice and protecting the innocent, she has a hard time wrapping her mind around the concept that she was married to an assassin.

she tentatively agrees to go on a mission with him to try and piece together the details of what happened to her. along the way, she snarks at him a lot, he’s adoring and moony-eyed at her a lot, and they have a lot of heart-to-heart talks. he is fully resigned to the idea that she won’t want to be with him again after this; he’s accepted the fact that she has a new life and probably doesn’t want him in it.

and he definitely isn’t expecting her to fall in love with him all over again.

she finally gets her memories back, but even before that, she loves him and is adamant that she still wants him to be her husband. he’s surprised, but overjoyed. they go get kolyat, who is understandably Fucked Up Emotionally at the revelation that his dead mom has been alive all this time, and the three of them are tentatively a family again. it starts out rocky, but it gets better over time.

ALSO i feel like irikah directs some very justified anger at thane for leaving kolyat behind. like, “i had amnesia for ten years and forgot everything about my life, i would give anything to have those years back with our son, and you just?? left him?? of your own free will?? you just chose to do that?? fucker” like yeah she loves him but also He Did A Fucked Up Thing and that needs to be acknowledged

ANYWAY i love this fuckign family so much and i want them to be safe and happy. superhero parents and their sad and angry but gradually healing son who they love very much and will try their best to never abandon (intentionally or unintentionally) ever again.

#superhero au tag #thane/irikah tag #dear god i apologize profusely for the sheer size of this post #recovette

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gothicdevice · 6 years ago

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I'm trying to finally, definitively figure out Miklos' military career.

Hasn't been easy cause trying to make sense of Russia's military, paramilitary and intelligence infrastructure is the most complicated thing I've ever attempted for the sake of ocs lol. The military reorganization in 2008/2013, the formation of a central authority for special purpose troops, the SOF and the competing interests and unclear jurisdiction of the GRU, FSB and SVR don't help either. I'm also willing to believe about 80% of the material on their military and intelligence apparatus is paranoid disinformation, so let's just think of all of this as intelligent (?) conjecture based on extensive (frustrated) reading.

After high school Miklos enrolled in the State Institute for Applied Sciences and Engineering (fictional. Amusingly an earlier incarnation of this institution is probably the same one that Vadim taught maths at) for a degree in industrial engineering. About midway through the course he decided to enlist in the VDV, the airborne troops. He finished his degree while enlisted. He could have dodged the 12 month mandatory draft courtesy of Katya and more particularly Arseny, but instead opted to enlist in the professional division.

Miklos' motivations are nebulous. Certainly part of it is a boy's outward turned rage and despair, a youthful sense of invincibility, a lack of interest in the conventional post university career path. Another part of it is detached impersonal curiosity. As a boy he had been fond of reading about historical engagements, the history of long distance shooting, the exploits of snipers in the Second World War. He was more physically fit than most and he wasn't a bad shot. The most father-like things Arseny ever did for Miklos was to teach him to shoot and pay for his judo training. Supporting his shift to MMA came out of his own pocket. His reasons are vague yet his decision seems logical when seen in a certain light, and once he became a paratrooper it seemed increasingly likely that he would follow Arseny's career trajectory.

Katya tried to convince him to go into the engineering or logistic corps, but after his time at Ryazan and several months of training he went into the Air Assault Division. Miklos called home several times in between active deployment in Chechnya and Georgia. After a few short lines of calm, slightly stilted conversation with his son, Arseny would offer the phone to Katya. She would always refuse to speak to Miklos.

After a year in the Division, Miklos applied to the 45th Special Recon Brigade, passed the punishing evaluations and began to train as a spetsnaz operative. At this point I would say that Miklos had plans of joining the GRU Spetsnaz, as it traditionally recruited from the 45th. It's still early to say, however, because he would need at least three years of service in the 45th to be considered for the division. He was 22 at the time.

At 25 Miklos left the service following some injuries sustained in Syria from a land mine. He had also witnessed, from the distance of six and a half feet away, the death of the man in his unit who had triggered the explosive in a fall. An accident. A tragedy, but only one of thousands. His commander was surprised by the request for discharge and tried to convince him to stay on. It seemed unlike the calm, laconic operative to throw it in after witnessing a fatality close up. It's not as though it was the first time.

A somewhat aimless six or eight months followed wherein Miklos went back to fighting, padded the automotive mechanic training he'd received in the service by enrolling in an automotive engineering course and working at a mechanical parts fabrication shop. In the interminable gaps between these various pursuits he drank; efficiently, silently, and without company in pursuit of insensate intoxication. This time it was his turn to mostly ignore his parents' phone calls and requests to see him.

Unable to stay away, Miklos finally applied to the Special Operations Forces where he received additional specialized training and worked in small units. On orders from his superiors he specialized further as a paramilitary intelligence operator able to work independently in enemy territory and without contact with command for extended periods of time. His superiors fond him quick, competent, resourceful, aloof and highly intelligent. Not particularly creative, in their estimation but a hell of a shot. An impressive unarmed fighter. He had no sentiments and never flinched, willing to do anything— within reason— to fulfill mission objectives.

Miklos had lived outside of normal society for years, but living in the gray zone wasn't like anything he experienced before. It was isolated and isolating. There was nothing or no one to depend on but himself. Here even the tenuous party line of defense of his country's foreign interests was left behind, and interchangeable enemies and allies shifted almost hour to hour. Here the idea of power was even more abstract, and there were never any clear winners or losers. Sometimes Miklos felt that he was operating for the purpose of high level political gangsterism. He negotiated the sale of weapons with war lords, ferried bales of US currency to tribal chieftains, met with the leaders of dissident military factions, dealt and worked with mercenaries, thieves, human traffickers and drug mules. Miklos trained guerrilla fighters and provided them with weapons, acted in an advisory capacity to struggling, patchwork militias. On orders he sold and bought contraband and traded them for information, loyalty, manpower or other resources. Several times, to his great amusement, he also escorted and facilitated the transport of British and American covert operatives into zones where they were not supposed to be on the ground, via drug trade routes as part of a high level exchange of information that he was not privy to. He carried out assassinations, quiet operations with little fanfare. More conventionally he sometimes worked in concert with Russian armed forces, going into enemy territory and identifying targets for air strikes. Most of these tasks required that he not identify as working for SOF and if he was killed on assignment he would have died anonymously, his body unlikely to be recovered.

Eventually Miklos leaves the SOF. Here I have to fudge things a little because I am unable to decide whether he leaves after a botched mission wherein he's presumed dead or simply turns in a resignation and, eight months later, turns up on a SOF watchlist of dangerous private contractors. If that happened SOF would simply continue to hire him on contract for tasks they don't wish to be connected to.

Miklos is neither a nationalist or a patriot. He barely thinks of himself as Russian. His motivations are strange but he gains satisfaction from physical mastery and the extremely demanding parameters of his work. It's not unlike being an elite athlete; the vocation requires the same amount of dedication, practice and discipline. Most military forces yearn to instill that kind of workman's pride in a job well done in their own troops for the act of killing. The all consuming mental and physical demands of the work also (almost) ensure that Miklos isn't drowned by his own low grade depression and mounting cynicism.

As for why Miklos becomes a contractor it might be as simple as "the private sector always pays better than the government."

• Arseny is a senior SVR officer. Yeah it makes things awkward.

• Miklos is the name he used when he starts to work as a contractor.

#text #Miklos #RAMBLINGS #apparently I don't understand the idea of brevity #just exploring the ADKOB set up and my hand slipped #damn I saved on the wrong blog #this is messy but eh

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glitchinthesystemspiderbyte · 6 years ago

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Glitch in the System - Common Ground

Sure thing, @tacticalgrandma!

By K.

A professional agreement happens.

They raced the morning, running side by side through the Rialto to a syncopated rhythm comprised of footsteps and measured breaths.

Akande didn’t ask Widowmaker whether he could join her. He never did, nor did he need to: if not because of his rank, then because running, like reading, was a welcome - albeit unexpected - commonality they shared. Their schedules rarely aligned; when they did, she always found him waiting.

He stood at the outpost gate: a mountain of a man standing stone-still and just as quiet, somehow both among and above the world around him. Widowmaker saw him now the way few ever did: as a man, blinking away sleep as he waited patiently in a threadbare tee and sneakers that looked as tired as he did. To the rest of the world, he was Doomfist, the Successor. To her, he was just Akande. Few lived to see him in quite the same light; she had yet to decide whether she should count herself lucky or, appropriately, doomed.

“This is a surprise,” the sniper remarked, pausing at his side.

She was hardly there a second before he was off, running headlong into the first rays of dawn without so much as a word.

Widowmaker followed.

They chased the sun’s slow ascent, a pastel spate of purples and pinks and oranges and golds staining otherwise clear Ventian waters. She paced herself by his breathing - louder, faster than hers, but every bit as practiced - and let him lead. Akande could trounce her in a sprint, but Widowmaker would always beat him in an endurance run. With no way of knowing how much he had in him, the assassin simply fell in line and waited.

That was the difference between them, she figured. Doomfist wanted to set the world on fire, to raze it in a single, concentrated act of force. For all his planning and careful strategy, there was a definitive end to the Successor’s work, and with it he, too, would burn. Akande harbored no dreams of despotism, only gunpowder: strong, volatile, and beautifully incendiary. By contrast, Widowmaker considered herself a cooler, slower-burning fire; she would persist until her work caught up with her, be it by way of a bullet or international tribunal. She required less oxygen in every sense of the word. When Akande blew up the world as they knew it and himself along with it, she would be left to watch.

Sometimes, she questioned whether that bothered her: that there would be a day when Akande’s flame would flicker while hers burnt strong. His philosophy didn’t matter to her. She lived for the function and form of her job - not the ideals she fulfilled in their execution. Those didn’t matter.

Akande, however, did.

Widowmaker struggled to qualify his exact meaning to her, and hers to him. He was as much her employer as Gabriel or Moira. The two comprised a sort of spectrum: her relationship with Gabriel was begrudgingly familial, while her rapport with Moira was frigid at best. Akande fell somewhere between the two, though he was far closer to Reaper’s extreme than the doctor’s. They engaged in heated discussions about literary romanticism over cracked eggs and fresh oats. They fought the most interesting - and challenging - sparring matches she could imagine, his mobility a hard counter to her flexibility. They ran and talked fashion and shared a deep appreciation for classical art.

They had respect - a thing neither offered another easily.

She wasn’t sure she could ascribe these attributes to friendship, but there was something like it gliding beneath the surface between them. Whatever it was, she didn’t mind it. It was more than she could say for most people.

“Stop.”

His voice rumbled between them, clipped but soft. She obeyed without a moment’s hesitation, watching the Successor’s momentum carry him a few steps further before he stopped in kind.

Akande turned to face her, a pronouncement lodged between his teeth: something he started to say and found suddenly spurious. Widowmaker blinked, brows raised in curiosity. “Ouais?”

“You are due for supplementary neural reconditioning,” he offered flatly.

Widowmaker felt something in her chest tighten as a spectre of dread closed a fist over her heart.

“Ah,” she managed, forcing herself to meet Akande’s eyes. “Well. It has been some time.”

It was true. The space between debilitating batteries of chemical and electroconvulsive treatments spanned the full length of Moira’s years-long absence. Of course, she thought. Of course Moira would return from wherever she was and attempt to wrest control of her life with one spindly claw.

Then again, even Moira operated on a cracked foundation of reason. The process was not simple, nor easy, and its invasiveness as much as its intensity would put her out of commission for weeks. There had to be a reason.

“Is my performance unsatisfactory?” Widowmaker asked, searching.

Akande shook his head.

“Even after Madrid?” she pressed.

“No,” he scoffed. “You obey orders and fulfill objectives. Your judgement in the field sound and you take risks when and where appropriate. You exceed training requirements and require little to no oversight. You are exactly as you were programmed to be.”

She watched Doomfist as he spoke, searching for clues and finding him impenetrable as ever. Sombra she could read; Gabriel, too. Moira less so, but one could generally assume of her logical, if not callous conclusions. Akande was like a fortress, his thoughts and intent obscured by walls and doors and airtight security protocols. His feelings were only ever evident in the moments they appeared - yet another similarity they shared.

“Why, then?” she asked. “Le médecin has been here months now. Shouldn’t she have performed this… maintenance earlier?”

“She didn’t think she needed to,” Akande replied. “She knows, Lacroix. I know.”

Understanding hit her, appropriately, like a meteor: a swift and devastating strike from an unplaceable beyond, unheralded and unstoppable. In its wake was a yawning hollow, a crater to catch the flood of thought wrought by its impact.

“Oh.”

A single sound was all she had; a lonely sound pressed between teeth and lips that refused to articulate the scream welling behind them. She knew it was inevitable, that Moira would notice and read the fine print. She knew, had known, had tried so hard to be careful, to avoid the geneticist’s attention beyond the scope of her duties.

Widowmaker realized with disappointing clarity that it wasn’t her performance that was unsatisfactory; it was her performance.

“Lacroix,” Akande prodded, his voice breaking through the traitorously calm beating of her heart in her ears.

She opened her mouth to reply, to offer a placatory “I understand”, but found the composite syllables coarse and unweidly. She understood, but didn’t want to accept that understanding. Refusal welled like magma, a snarl of heat bubbling beneath the ocean’s current.

“You said my performance is not unsatisfactory.”

Doomfist inclined his chin - a gesture of agreement and appraisal in equal measure. “I did.”

“And is, in fact, quite the opposite.”

“Correct.”

The seconds stretched between them as she sifted through the river of thought for a response. It reminded her of those first, pivotal moments when confronting an enemy hand-to-hand. She realized Akande wasn’t watching; he was analyzing. Evaluating. She didn’t know whether this was intended as a test, but it certainly felt like one: a qualifying exam with no clearly defined parameters for success or failure.

With no litmus test for either, she considered whether she would benefit from acquiescence, and found her conclusions anything but favorable.

Luckily, she was unafraid of taking risks; he’d said it himself.

“This would not be a problem were I not the party in question,” she wagered.

“Perhaps. But your neural conditioning—,”

“—has no observable impact on my work unless there is a universal system failure,” she cut in, recalling that single, fateful dossier given to her almost a year earlier. “It was designed that way. Even if that happened, my emotional reflexes would take years to return to normal. It is a non-issue.”

Akande eyed her with pointed curiosity. “She could make the case you are broken - that affection will lead to remorse will lead to fear. She could claim you are obsolete.”

He was reaching.

Widowmaker found her opening.

“Then I would direct her to my training evaluation and field reports. To the fact you have only a moment ago said that is not the case.”

Doomfist opened his mouth to interject, but she refused him the courtesy. “I am the best. That is what I was made to be - what was chosen for me. Moira likes percentages; mine are in my favor. I have chosen one thing, Akande. Let me have it.”

He bowed his head slightly in thought, tapping a calloused finger to his chin in an idle gesture of consideration. Widowmaker didn’t presume her ability to sway him, nonetheless Moira. At least she could say she tried.

Eventually, he sighed. “I will tell doctor O’deorain to review your records. She will find any further reconditioning unnecessary at this time.”

“Merci,” she exhaled, stifling a tired smile. “It is appreciated.”

“Breakfast?” Akande offered, as if the suggestion succeeded the most casual of conversations.

Widowmaker shook her head. “I am disgusting.”

“Me, too.”

Doomfist nodded his thanks to their server, following the aproned omnic with his eyes as they hovered a line of retreat back to the kitchen. He wore an expression of idle disbelief, brows raised slightly as he nudged one of the two cups of espresso before him toward the sniper.

“Qu’est-ce que c’est?” Widowmaker asked, accepting his offering and plucking the small spoon from its serving dish. “You are concerned? Should I kill them?”

She hadn’t meant it as a joke, but the man across from her smirked regardless.

“What?”

“It is strange,” he mused. “We do not exactly have low profiles, you and I.”

“Mm.”

“They must recognize us. One of us, at least. But, here we are.”

Widowmaker glanced over one shoulder, watching the waitstaff as they moved from counter to table and back again, exchanging pleasantries and orders with the handful of guests seated around the bar. Any one of them could and should recognize Doomfist; in fact, she did not suspect they didn’t.

Returning her gaze to her drink, the assassin shrugged and set to scooping the crema from its surface. “Who here could raise a hand to you?” she asked plainly, as if inquiring about the weather. “It would be stupid. A death sentence.”

“And you?” Akande asked, smiling.

“Please.”

“She treats you well?”

Widowmaker blinked, glancing back to Akande. “Quoi?”

“Does she?”

It was a strange question, coming from him - from anyone in Talon’s employ, really. In fact, it was the most direct inquiry anyone had made into her relationship with Sombra. Even Gabriel, who was notoriously devoid of delicacy and in possession of the very worst sense of timing, avoided anything so pointed. Then again, this was something of the the norm: for all his stoicism at work and in the field, Akande was always strangely forthcoming in the fleeting seconds he made his feelings known. Widowmaker accordingly assumed of his question a modicum of sincere interest, and indulged it carefully.

“Yes,” she murmured, setting her spoon aside. “She understands… me. What I am, where my story will end, why. She understands. And she is warm. Something I am not.”

“Warm,” the man repeated, the word slowed by uncertainty.

Widowmaker lifted the cup to her lips but didn’t drink. There was something behind Akande’s eyes, some new darkness she didn’t recognize. His expression neither changed nor faltered, but something was perceptibly different.

“Oui,” she continued. “It is not something I missed. But it is something I lack, and something I can appreciate.”

He nodded, though his expression remained unplaceable. Doomfist seemed focused, but neither on her nor their conversation; he was honing in on something adjacent it instead. Perhaps he’d found a a finer point between her words, a thought or concept she’d unknowingly brushed against?

“You are confused?” she guessed.

He shook his head. “No.”

“Then what?”

Akande watched the idle swirl of dark liquid as he turned his cup in a slow rotation. A moment later, he pushed it aside and leaned forward on his elbows, narrowing the space between them significantly. In anyone else, it would have appeared conspiratorial, maybe even intimidating. For him, it seemed oddly vulnerable. “I have sacrificed many things to get where I am,” he said quietly. “What you are talking about is among them.”

“Do you regret it?” Widowmaker asked.

“Not quite. It is more like positive and negative spaces; something’s absence is not bad, but it is noticeable. Something’s presence is not innately good, but you know it is there.”

A thin, knowing smile slipped across Widowmaker’s lips. She knew the feeling well, but hearing someone else give voice to it was validating in a way she rarely experienced. That that someone was Akande was somehow even more so.

“So, no,” Akande continued, squaring his shoulders. “I do not regret it. I made a choice as to what is important to me, and what I can live without.”

“You can make other choices,” the sniper added. “It is not unlike warfare.”

“You think so?” Something flashed across Akande’s face, even faster than normal. Widowmaker wondered whether it was that same sense of validation, that feeling of one’s isolating circumstances being anything but singular. Yet as soon as it was there, he suppressed it, pushing that hint of curiosity from his face as if it were some terrible secret worth hiding.

She wondered if it was the same sort of hope her programming was supposed to forbid.

“Cross that,” he said, the command buoyed by a note of something she suspected was sadness. “Don’t answer that. This is… inappropriate. I am sorry, Lacroix.”

She watched as he stood, sweeping one broad hand across the table to lift the tiny cup to his lips, drain it, and set it aside. He reached into his pocket and tossed a few credits on the table, then turned his back to her. “I should get back to base.”

“Defeatism is unbecoming of you,” she said over the rim of her own cup. “As is cowardice.”

He hesitated, and Widowmaker could swear she heard him laugh: a small, bitter, self-aware sound. “You wouldn’t know a thing about it,” he sighed. “Take the day off. I’m going to go clear the doctor’s schedule.”

*Read from the beginning or check out our intro post! All stories tagged under #glitchfic. Table of contents located here.

#spiderbyte #sombramaker #widowsombra #sombra x widowmaker #widowmaker x sombra #sombra #Widowmaker #Amélie Lacroix #amelie lacroix #akande #akande ogundimu #doomfist #Overwatch #overwatch fandom #overwatch fanfic #overwatch fic #glitch in the system #glitchfic

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valencia-kay · 4 years ago

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ISSUE OF CREDIBILTY AND RELIABILTY

The issue of credibility takes multiple forms. There is credibility on the forensic psychologists end and that of analysis of witness testimonies.

As a forensic discipline, forensic psychology can be located within the broader discourse of forensic science. However, compared to other forensic specialisms e.g. forensic pathology, forensic odontology etc, forensic psychology is often seen as the poor relation.

As with psychology in general, it is often perceived, particularly by those outside the discipline as soft or pseudo science. Now while this is often based on a misunderstanding of the practice of psychology, it's not difficult to understand why this viewpoint prevails.

Take for instance criminal profiling, which rightly or wrongly is often presented as a topic within forensic psychology. There are a host of examples where criminal profiling has been shown to be inaccurate. The Washington sniper case being the most obvious example.

Profiles indicated that a white man working alone was responsible. In the event, two black men, John Allen Muhammed and Lee Boyd Malvo were arrested for the killings.

RETROACTIVE MEMORY FALSIFICATION

Drawing on his research on suggestion, the Baron argued that the witnesses could be suffering from what he termed ‘retroactive memory falsification’: confusing the vivid accounts they had read in the newspapers with what they had actually seen (Bartol & Bartol, 1987).

In other words a witness can recall a suspect running pass in a blue shirt only because they hear enough accounts that the suspect had on a blue shirt, when in-fact they saw the suspect in a green shirt.

Now imagine how this small piece of information can forever change someone life?

Then there is a drawback to soak up a forensic psychologist expert testimony because it is not based off something physical ( Physical evidence) but rather complete theory that tries to categories millions of individuals by a few traits.

Presently while it is conceivable to contend that supposed 'hard' sciences can likewise be discovered needing with regards to exactness and accuracy, I'd propose a more useful methodology, especially for understudies of measurable brain research is search out a more adjusted view with regards to shielding or assessing the logical validity of scientific psychological research.

Criminal profiling addresses an extremely clear a valid example. For a beginning, there is more than one way to deal with criminal profiling; the hypothetical standards of which can vary uniquely. While it is conceivable to highlight certain informative systems as emotional and untestable, similarly, it is conceivable to highlight evenhanded and testable factual methodology being utilized.

The capacity to look into a scope of approaches and assess their separate qualities and shortcomings is a viable learning technique and ought to be utilized as per usual in Forensic Psychology.

How do you prove that what the psychologist believes about the suspect is true and why should anyone believe in your ideas about someone else more than what that person may say about themselves. These are some of the statements and questions that speaks to the issue of credibility

A poem was done and recorded to give further insights on this said issue.

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alleabelle · 4 years ago

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War Doctor

Quotes from War Doctor: Surgery on the Front Line by David Nott

It stems partly from the desire to use my knowledge as a surgeon to help people who are experiencing the worst that humanity can throw at them, and partly from the thrill of just being in those terrible places, of living in a liminal zone where most people have neither been nor want to go.

And wars most affect those who are worst equipped to deal with them.

The dictionary definition of the word “vocation” talks of a “special urge” or of a “calling”—but there are many reasons why people choose to become doctors, and most of them have little to do with altruism. [...] The idea of altruism being in pure opposition to selfishness is nonsense. [...] The paradox of extreme altruism - that it is simultaneously selfish - finds a parallel in the fact that most surgeons take up surgery because they find it exciting.

p. 7: It is a common mistake not to assume the worst.

p.15: I rationalize it by thinking, Well, maybe that Taliban guy or this ISIS fighter will find out his life was saved by a Western, Christian doctor, and that might make him change his outlook. Some people may consider this naive, but that’s how it is.

p. 28: Surgery in the 1980s was a trial of sleep deprivation, of how much you could take before you broke.

p. 44-45: The anesthesiologist and I discussed the option of surgery. We had a choice—operate and try to save his life, or not operate and watch him die. There were no other patients—it was about three in the morning—but we had very limited resources and it was freezing. We looked at the patient and nodded at each other, then took him into the operating room to do what was necessary to stop the bleeding. Once he was under anesthesia and being infused with the only pint of blood we had, I opened his abdomen.

p. 52: I did not know them or their past lives, bu they were very vulnerable and it is the vulnerability of human life that - when it is stripped down to its basics - makes us all the same.

p. 70-71: Usually in this situation the correct surgical procedure is to pack the abdomen as quickly as possible to try to staunch the hemorrhage. I had no time to do this—I had to turn off the faucet as rapidly as possible. I had two options: either open up the chest and put a clamp on the distal thoracic aorta, or delve down as rapidly as I could to feel the aorta with my fingers just below the diaphragm and press it against the lower thoracic vertebra, like pinching the end of a hose. Once I’d got into the abdomen, I chose the latter technique. I called out to my assistant, Squadron Leader David O’Reilly, to pack the abdomen while I squeezed the aorta.

p. 71: Einstein’s theory of relativity can be applied to all sorts of things, including the transference of kinetic energy from a bullet to someone’s body. Einstein’s insight was to show that kinetic energy is equal to half the mass times the velocity squared—the heavier the bullet, the more energy is transferred into the organ that it hits. If the velocity of the bullet is doubled, then the energy released is quadrupled. And when a high-energy bullet from, say, a sniper’s rifle hits a target, then the bullet tends to tumble inside the body. It tumbles because its center of gravity is well behind the point, and as it slows down it becomes unstable. This tumbling effect dissipates huge amounts of energy, so if it hits an organ of high resistance such as the liver, which is enclosed in a layer of connective tissue called Glisson’s capsule, then it can literally blow the liver apart. This is what had happened to our patient.

p. 84: To get the best out of the team around you, you need to radiate serenity. The whole team responds to the lead taken by the operating surgeon. Being aggressive does not help. You are one member of a team who are all working together to achieve the same goal. The person holding the needle is just one small part of the bigger picture.

p. 106: Then the nurse who was with me put his hand into the uterus as well, and lo and behold, the head of the baby popped free. The nurse smiled at me behind his mask and said, “Vide,” which in French means vacuum. He had ingeniously slipped his fingers behind the baby’s head, allowing some air to get between the head and the pelvis and break the seal. It’s a trick I will never forget.

p. 124: One of the rules in resuscitation is that if a patient is conscious and can speak, then he has enough arterial pressure to supply the brain, even though he may have a low blood pressure from hemorrhage.

p. 127: This was the future, I believed—not just parachuting into a war zone, saving the odd life, and then going home; it was about providing a legacy, leaving my temporary colleagues better equipped to deal with an ongoing situation that they themselves could not walk away from.

p. 147: If you can feel a radial pulse, then the pressure is around 90 mmHg systolic. This is sufficient to ensure that all the major organs such as the brain, heart, liver, and kidneys will be well supplied with blood. Even if the patient is significantly injured, if he is in this category then he is P2. The P1 injured are those with obvious difficulty in breathing and who do not have a radial pulse pressure. These are the patients who need urgent care and attention, although everyone requires constant review as those who are P2 may suddenly become P1.

p. 179: It’s just a terrible pity that sometimes the learning has to come from such dreadful mistakes, mistakes that are tattooed onto our psyche.

p. 181: We were able to remove his drains and send him home on day six. Incredibly, a boy with a 100 percent mortality risk a week earlier became the only person in Aleppo to have had a trauma Whipple operation, and we could claim a 100 percent success record for one of the most complex surgical procedures in the book.

p. 189: In London, there were any number of people who could carry out the operations I was doing, and do them just as well if not better. In the UK I might save one person’s life a month, whereas in Syria it had been ten a day. What the hell was I doing here?

p. 205: It wasn’t a logical decision, it was based purely on emotion—compassion for her and anger at the forces of war ranged against her. I was so sick of seeing badly injured children that I could not bear to see another one and stand idly by. Staying with her was a pointless act of defiance against the warmongers, but it would have been impossible to do otherwise. The nature of the risks I was taking had grown without my really noticing. I was prepared to die, and I would rather have died than lived with myself knowing I’d left her alone.

p. 210: I had felt adrift, swimming alone far out at sea, in increasingly dangerous waters, and it was as if someone had thrown me a lifeline.

p. 240: Through much of my life I had felt alone. It was completely irrational that the person who showed me so much love, showed me the way to live a different kind of life, should be the person I was most angry with. I had never felt such love for anyone before, yet I seemed to want to push her away.

p. 251: I have always had a tendency to focus on specific tasks and pursue them relentlessly, sometimes flying in the face of all logic or common sense.

p. 275: Love, like surgery, isn’t always tidy, and it isn’t always easy.

p. 277: Early on it became clear that David’s humanitarian work is an intrinsic part of who he is. Although I found this hard at first, having worried so desperately when he was working in Syria, I fully support him in what he does—to do otherwise would not only deny David his passion but also deprive the world of his skills, which are so desperately needed.

p. 278: Surgery hasn’t had the profile of other health issues such as communicable or preventable diseases. Yet surgically treatable conditions kill 17 million people each year; more than tuberculosis, malaria, and HIV/AIDS combined, according to a study in The Lancet. We therefore seek to promote the skillful and safe practice of surgery in low-resource or war-torn settings as well as advocate for the rights of the medical victims of conflict and the doctors who strive to care for them.

#book #books #quote #quotes #surgery

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davidwindsor97 · 4 years ago

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For a while, I've been an asset to the U.S. Government. Since then they have continually asked what it is I want for my service. Since I am apart of a group of Missionaries that doesn't believe in payment due to service it has become complex to perceive what it is I do want. It comes the time to put into detail what it is I desire:

I want to reclaim my real full name, David Windsor. Of course, I want my blood to accept me. But at the moment it is irrelevant. I have an obligation to a people I can seriously relate to. People who if I was in the same position would gladly do the same. Maybe some of them wouldn't but why should that make the difference?

My circumstances have really been unnecessarily shameful. All I've wanted is to explore my identity and yet people offer secrecy. What I've noticed is in every branch of this United States Government there are those of advocacy and heresy. No sector of the organization feels solely the same for me. To consider such a thing would put everyone in the same bubble of thought. Such a form of segregation is something the Enemy holds in high regard. Which is why I shall remain intentionally ignorant of such practices.

I had the money and the means to get to Israel. But some fools froze my accounts impulsively and just plain extemporaneously as if I am some sort of terror threat. When I risk my life for there sakes they decide to paint me as an enemy. The kind of enemy destined for execution by there spiteful hands. What is logic? Simply put I am a Christian who is not swayed by their sinful indulgences.

I don't want a new identity or a new life. I want to accept the identity I've always had and enjoyed the life of which so many fools attempted to control. If my enemies face me like men instead of hiding like children and grow courage in the midst of numbers then I'll be ready. Why fear the wrath of man when I know the wrath of God is exact? Nothing could be swifter. So when I see these Barbie spies hiding every time I call them out I laugh. Because it reminds me of Adam and Eve. Didn't they try and hide from there mistakes? I too have tried to hide from my sins. The sin of deception, of arrogance, of selfishness, of lust, and there's probably more that I'm just not ready to accept. But that is the point, isn't it? We are all sinful people trying to make amends for our mistakes. But the only true way to do such a thing is to accept Christ as your savior. No government could give you a better chance than the Holy Trinity.

Another aspect that just bothers me is there constant attempt to find a code in everything I do. I was looking out this pleasant window expressing part of the Houston downtown area and people act as if I'm scouting out a sniper. My survival is based on a number of factors. But when God tells you you are safe their's no reason to doubt it. Relaxation is something I'm fond of. You just add anxiety when you anticipate something that isn't there.

They've made silent offers to go to school in the states. But frankly, this school system sucks. Elementary, Middle, High, and a bit of college. What did I learn? Absolutely nothing. Every useful skill I learned when I left the states or experienced extremities in the states. A school setting makes me want to regurgitate. Ergo, I would rather throw up than set foot in a ridiculous system. The education I required no money but all commitment. Sure some skills I acquired through favors and some coin. But the most important lessons were learned through earned respect. There's no way a school teacher respects every student. But when you first earn that mentor's respect thereby gaining the important lessons that are when you gain more than any college could give you.

That's not to say you can't gain a wealth of knowledge from any known education system. I've just learned more from the unknown ones.

I'll most likely come back to the U.S. to eventually pursue the arts. But that is not my main objective. I don't have scores to settle but relationships to build. No matter the high or the low that is all that matters. Perhaps the U.S will offer some resources for my journey other than the mud some of them (not all of them) have thrown on my face. But I really am fine either way. Here I can anticipate being treated like I have leprosy. So if I get nothing it would be by no means surprising. Plus they have the audacity to act as if they saved me. When really they're like a dad who decided to stop by after 22 years of abandonment while the mother (the Missionaries and other great heroes) has been protecting and guiding me from day one. And this mama bear hasn't taken any breaks. Even when a lot of them have. I have no doubt some of them relished the thought of my enemies killing me. But I am untouchable by God's grace not by any pitiful physical "mercy".

I am just so sick of feeling like I'm in a prison of misunderstanding. Despite my continual transparency. I'm transparent, not translucent.

There have been times where if they would have told me we're protecting you I would have to ask: how can you protect me from yourself?

Because if I didn't have my license and social a lot of them would have killed me by now. Does that mean they represent the entirety of the U.S. Government? Hell no! People like that are just examples of a load of cowards who can't accept how wrong they are because they're too busy bolstering up their egos. Honestly, I'm surprised they still have a job. How can you rely on someone who's more interested in saving their own asses then the guy next to them?

Oh, and do these pricks get pissed when I call them out on their bullocks. Then they try to act as they care about me. If I was a corpse on the street you would take a selfie, you sick demented morons! But have I, throughout this entire process, had a reason to anticipate death? By Gods Grace: no.

Their mistake is a heavy reliance on fear. I am referring to the cowards of course. Such people are a form of the slaver. They wish to keep their informants in fear so they can do anything they can to take advantage of them. To make the person bend over as they relish in their sadistic pleasures. Such people are the inevitable viruses of any system. Just because a car is dirty doesn't mean it can't be cleaned. Yes, I've given a wealth of information and exposed a wealth of criminals. But that doesn't mean I'm for free. Money has never been an object of concern for me. I've thrived with or without it. Its freedom I will continually seek. No amount of money, no occupation could be worth more than that to me.

Why should anyone fear my expression? Has it ever been a crime to express oneself honestly? Since I don't fear who I am I've officially accepted that cameras will follow me in some way. It seems my reputation has finally landed in the states. But at this point I quite like it. Just as long as personal space is constant. After all, I don't want to be treated like a slave again. A lot of people have called me a weirdo or just been confused by my actions as if I have to fit a certain mold. But I realized when I read the biographies of celebrities they were treated the same way. So I guess I could look at it as a good sign. I do think the photos and videos of me would be fun to watch in certain cases and just a plain invasion of privacy in others.

Despite these neanderthal's, I know a lot of them to care about me. But sympathy or apathy doesn't change that I need to go to Israel. Do I give a damn if my enemies know my destination or not? Of course not and I shouldn't have to mention why. There fear their of overt caution is just evidence of the fact that they have very little understanding of what they're dealing with. But the Missionaries do. And whether they help us or not makes no difference. We will still pursue the mission objective. As we always have and always will.

Yes, the Missionaries could get me there in a matter of days. But the relationship between the U.S and the Creed of Christians (Missionaries) needs to have a solid structure. Its clear to me now the whole purpose of coming back to the US to spill the beans was so I could be free to go where I please. Which thanks to my training is exactly where I'm supposed to go. I definitely can't dispute if it wasn't for the scrutiny of law enforcement and the constant surveillance (for a time) I wouldn't have had the chance to tear away from the fake family. So yeah that tearing away from that toxic mold couldn't have happened without them. It has been freaking cool working with them. Especially when I drove to LA. It was so composed. Every maneuver was a different thrill. And watching my enemies flee in fear wouldn't have been so satisfactory if it wasn't for my exposure induced by there surveillance. Recently the cowards tried to drug me which I can't help but laugh at. If my calculations are correct this is the second time they've attempted this. Even the Russians stopped drugging me because I learned how to fight through it. When it comes to any drugs as long as you physically exert yourself it is plausible to shatter that barrier between you and your capability.

One of the big mistakes some of them have made is thinking I am in some way going to be some sort of Edward Snowden ergo a boy who thinks he could run the country better by pointing out the flaws but totally ignoring his own hypocrisy by sleeping with a Judas of a Government. Look everyone can agree mistakes were made on both sides. As long as we remain transparent and not look for ways to annoy each other we really shouldn't have any problems. Yeah, I've been pissed off at the stupidity that has come my way, but that doesn't change the warm hearts I've come across as well.

Wither they be military, investigative, or a mixture of the two it's not hard to see that the people advocating for me within the U.S. Government and abroad are by no means few in number. This is why it is of the utmost importance for us to work together to put a stop to these extremists by any means necessary.

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toomanysinks · 6 years ago

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Bioware’s high-flying ‘Anthem’ falls flat

Anthem is the first attempt by Bioware (of Mass Effect and Dragon Age fame) to tap into the well of cash supposedly to be found in the “game as platform” trend that has grown over the last few years, with Destiny, Warframe and Fortnite as preeminent exemplars. After a botched demo weekend dampened fan expectations, the final game is here — and while it’s a lot better than the broken mess we saw a few weeks ago, it’s still very hard to recommend.

I delayed my review to evaluate the game’s progress after an enormous day-one patch. While it is always premature to judge a game meant to grow and evolve by how it is immediately after launch, there are serious problems here that anyone thinking of dropping the $60 or more on it should be aware of. Perhaps they’ll all be fixed eventually, but you better believe it’s going to take a while.

I’d estimate this is about half the game it’s clearly intended to be; it seems to me we must soon find out that most of Anthem, supposedly in development for five years or more, was scrapped not long ago and this shell substituted on short notice.

The basic idea of Anthem is that you, a “freelancer” who pilots a mechanized suit called a “javelin,” fly around a big, beautiful world and blast the hell out of anything with a red hostility indicator over its head, which in practice is damn near everything. Once you’re done, you collect your new guns and gadgets and head back to base to improve your javelin, take on new missions and so on.

If it sounds familiar, it’s basically an extremely shiny version of Diablo, which established this gameplay loop more than 20 years ago; its sequels and the innumerable imitators it spawned have refined the concept, bolstering it with MMO-style online integration, “seasons” of gameplay and, of course, the inevitable microtransactions. People play them simply because it’s fun to kill monsters and see your character grow more powerful.

So Anthem is in good company, though of course for every success there are probably two or three failures and mediocre titles. Destiny has thrived in a way only because of its fluid and satisfying gunplay, while a game like Path of Exile leans on bulk, with skill trees and content one may never reach the ends of.

Anthem, on the other hand, lacks the charms of either. It is wildly short on content and its moment-to-moment gameplay, while competent and in some ways unique, rarely has you on the edge of your seat. It’s a very mixed bag of interesting concepts and disappointing execution, coupled with some truly baffling user experience issues.

I’ll cover the good parts first: the basics of flying around and shooting guys are for the most part solid. There’s a good variety of weapons, from hand cannons to shotguns and sniper rifles, with meaningful variations within those groups (though they usually boil down to rate of fire). You feel very cool during engagements, picking off enemies, dodging behind cover, flying to a new vantage point and so on.

Each of the four javelins has a good pile of themed special abilities that significantly affect how you play; for instance, the Storm starts out with (basically) non-damaging ice shards that freeze enemies, setting them up for a damaging combo from its lightning strike — but soon you can swap those out for fiery explosions and a charge-up blast of cold, and so on. The synergies are somewhat limited in that some abilities clearly only work with some others, but there’s fun to be had experimenting. I played with three of the four javelins available (more to come, apparently) and they were all very distinct styles.

Damn.

The graphics really are lovely, from the future-past desert chic of Fort Tarsis to the lush jungle cliffs of the world you’ll be exploring. The light and landscapes are beautiful, and the character models are, too. Firefights look chaotic and splashy, which they are. There are also lots of customization options, in terms of colors and materials anyway — there’s a puzzling lack of cosmetics to buy with in-game or real currency; only two or three are available right now.

Unfortunately, that’s pretty much the extent of what Anthem gets right — and to be clear, it really can be fun when you’re actually in the middle of a firefight, blasting away, doing combos with friends, taking on hordes of bad guys. The rest is pretty much a mess. Here’s the greatest hits of how Anthem fails to operate, to respect the player’s time and, generally speaking, to be a good game.

First and perhaps most egregious, the load screens are frequent and long. I timed it at more than five minutes from launch, and at least three or four different load screens, before I could actually play the game.

Get ready for a lot of this! And incidentally, many fire attacks don’t actually set up combos.

A long load time to bring up a huge world like Anthem’s I can understand. But load times to enter the screen where you change your gear? Load screens when you enter a small cave from the map? A load screen when you stray too far from your teammates and have to be teleported to them? A load screen when you finish a mission, then another before you can return to base — and another before you can equip your new gun? Oh my god!

This is compounded by a sluggish and over-complicated UI that somehow manages to show both too much and not enough, while inconsistent keys and interaction elements keep you guessing as to whether you need to press F or space or escape to go forward, hit or hold escape to go back, use Q or E to go through submenus or if you have to escape out to find what you’re looking for.

Equipment and abilities are mystifyingly under-explained: no terms like “+15% gear speed” or “+/-10% shield time” are explained anywhere in the tutorial, documentation or character screen — because there is no character screen! For a game that depends hugely on stats and getting an overall feel for your build and gear, you have to visit five or six screens to get a sense of what you have equipped, its bonuses (if comprehensible) and whether you have anything better to use. Even core game systems like the “primer” and “detonator” abilities are only cursorily referenced, by cryptic icons or throwaway text. The original Diablo did it better, to say nothing of Anthem’s competition at the AAA level.

Navigating these menus and systems is doubly hard because you must do so not by just hitting a key, but by traveling at walking speed through the beautiful but impractical Fort Tarsis. It took a full 30 seconds for me to walk from my suit (the only place where you can launch missions) to a quest giver. And when you start the game, you start in a basement from which you have to walk 20 seconds to get to your suit! Are you kidding me?

A common sight.

Even when you’re doing what the game does best, zooming around and getting in firefights, there’s a disturbing lack of mission variety. Almost without exception you’ll fly to a little arena — some ruins or a base of some kind — and are immediately alerted of enemies in the area. They warp in at a convenient distance, often while you watch, and attack while you stand near a gadget (to advance a progress bar) or collect pieces to bring back. Some more powerful guys warp in and you shoot them. Fly to the next arena, rinse and repeat.

Sure, you could say “well it’s a shooter, what do you expect?” I expect more than that! Where are the aerial chases the intro leads you to believe exist? Enemies all either stand on the ground or hover just above it. They don’t clamber on the walls, get to the top of towers, shoot down on you from cliffs, climb trees, build gun emplacements. You don’t defend a moving target like the “Striders” (obviously AT-ATs) you supposedly travel in; bridges and buildings don’t crumble or explode; you don’t chase a bad guy into a big cave (or if you do, there’s a loading screen); the “boss-type” enemies are often just regular guys with more life or shields that recharge in the time it takes you to reload. Where are the enemy javelins? The enemy Striders? Ninety percent of what you kill will be ground-bound grunts taken down in a flash. For a game in which movement is emphasized and enjoyable, combat involves very little of it.

The campaign, which is surprisingly well acted but forgettable, seems like it was tacked on in a hurry. Amazingly, a major cutscene details a much more interesting story, in which a major city is overrun and destroyed and only a few survive. It struck me at the time that this might have been the original campaign and starting mission, after which you are logically relegated to the nearby Fort Tarsis and forced to fight for scraps. Instead you have a series of samey missions with voice-overs telling you what’s happening while you stand there and watch progress bars fill up.

At one point you are presented with four ancient tombs to track down, only to find that these amazing tombs aren’t missions but simply checklists of basic game activities like opening 15 treasure chests, killing 50 enemies with melee and so on. At a point, increasing these numbers was literally the only “mission” I had available in the game. And when I tried to join other people’s missions to accomplish these chores, half the time they were broken or already finished. Even trying to quit these missions rarely worked! (Some of these bugs and issues have been mitigated by patches, but not all.)

Spoiler warning! What do you think is in the tombs? A taxing dungeon full of traps, monsters and ancient treasure? Nope! Literally just a tiny, empty room. And yes, there’s a loading screen — both in and out.

Oh, and because many of the missions are difficult or tedious to do solo, you’ll want to team up — except if you’re slow to load, the mission will commence without you and you’ll miss the VO. Whoops! And by the way, if you just want to test out a new gun or power, you’ll have to join a multiplayer “freeplay” session to do it, which is another handful of loading screens. I’m not even going to get into the failings of the multiplayer. Because you can’t communicate it’s basically like playing with bots. By the way, there’s no PvP, so forget about skirmishing with your friends or randoms.

Even the loot you get is frustratingly low-quality and unimaginative. Every gun or component is a standard model almost always with just slightly better damage than the last one you found, and perhaps a stat bonus. But the stat bonuses are boring and often nonsensical: do I really want an assault rifle that gives me 10 percent better damage with heavy pistols?

Where’s the fun? For comparison when I was playing Diablo III recently I found a pair of leg armor early on that produced a powerful poison cloud whenever I was touching three or more enemies. Suddenly I played differently, rushing into crowds of monsters and leaping out, then immobilizing them while their life ticked down. I changed out my weapons, focused on physical defense, poison buffs… all because of a pair of pants!

I’ve encountered nothing like that in 25 hours of Anthem. Every new power and gun is the same as the old one but with a higher number. Where’s the lightning bolt that also sets people on fire, or the plasma blast that always knocks down flying guys? The pistol that does double damage against one class of enemy, the sniper rifle that automatically chambers a new round instantly in one out of five shots?

You do eventually find some “Masterwork” items that have unique qualities, but even these are compromised by the fact that their stats are completely random (such as a bonus to the wrong damage type), necessitating a grind to make or find them over and over until you get one with bonuses that make sense.

So much of Anthem seems like it’s just missing. The campaign is half there; the controls and UI are half there; the loot is half there. The multiplayer is half there. Everything lacks a critical piece that makes it more than basically functional, and considering the game’s highly polished competition, this is inexplicable and inexcusable. I find it hard to believe this was in the works for five years when such elementary aspects like a character screen and working item descriptions aren’t included at launch.

It’s more than possible that with perhaps half a year of work the Bioware team — which seems to be painfully aware of the game’s shortcomings, if their responses to detailed litanies of complaints on the game’s subreddit are any indication — could make this game worth the price of entry. But right now I couldn’t recommend it to anybody in good conscience, and I’m disappointed that a developer that’s created some of my favorite games dropped the ball so badly.

It’s too bad, because I feel the pull of the game, the basic chaotic fun at the heart of any good looter-shooter, because I feel like this can’t really be it. This can’t really be all my abilities, right? This can’t be every weapon? I liked Anthem when it was at its best, but that was so very little of the time I spent in it, and it took so much effort and patience on my part to even make those moments a possibility. I’ll be checking back in with the game in the hopes that it makes a Destiny-esque turnaround, but for now I have to say Anthem suffers from a failure to launch.

source https://techcrunch.com/2019/02/25/biowares-high-flying-anthem-falls-flat/

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