#still only on the urban legends common route

[wildflower-otome]

[teecupangel]

I had this dream where an assassin has this slitted smile and when I woke up the first thing I thought was "the slitted mouth assassin???" and I was only thinking if that assassin was a ghost or just had a slitted mouth, so now I wanna know what happens if they had a slitted mouth and it can be any assassin you want I just want slitted mouth assassins scaring the crap out of people

When I read this, my first thought was the urban legend/folklore of the Kuchisake-onna, a woman whose mouth has been slit from ear to ear and would ask people if she was beautiful and if they keep saying yes, she’ll disfigure them the same way, but if they say no, she’ll kill them (usually cut them in half).

Honestly, I vote on Desmond having to deal with this sort of thing as part of “I survived the Solar Flare of 2012 but at what cost?” AU idea. He could also keep wearing a mask (like a face mask or a full on mask) to hide his slit mouth.

Of course, an alternative would be…

The scar-boys (Altaïr, Ezio and Desmond) could be the ones to get slit mouths instead of their canon lip scars.

Now, the common route would be for them to get their slit mouths during the time they got the scar on their lips (like, we’re just exchanging the scar for the slitting) but, if I may suggest an alternative for each:

Altaïr could have gotten his as a punishment for his failure in Jerusalem from Al Mualim himself. It’s a clear show of his failure and Abbas never misses the time to remind Altaïr of that. He’s not allowed to cover it up in Masyaf or in any of the bureaus but he can cover it up (he has to, he’d be easily recognizable if he doesn’t) whenever he’s traveling or performing any tasks and missions for the Brotherhood.

Ezio got his when he accepts Uberto’s invitation to come inside after giving him the documents. He’s grabbed by the guards and maybe Uberto slits his mouth as punishment for being an annoyance and it’s only Rodrigo’s “stop playing around and kill him” orders that made everyone pause long enough for Ezio to get away. He still fails to save his family and his slit mouth is a constant reminder of how he failed his family and how he believed himself to be so stupid to fall for the enemies’ ploys. He hides it most of the time with a fabric of some kind but, when he assassinates people who had a hand in the conspiracy, he pulls the fabric down to show his slit mouth to tell his target how they had created the monster they see in front of them.

And then… there was Desmond…

Who didn’t have a slit mouth…

Until…

One day, during one of Desmond’s few breaks from the Animus, Lucy realized that Desmond hasn’t returned from his ‘walk’ and Rebecca checks the security cameras. They see Desmond just sitting on what used to be Ezio’s room and Shaun makes a snarky comment about how Desmond must have fallen asleep sitting down, or he’s being a spoiled brat that wants someone to get him (Rebecca and Lucy just sigh because they know Shaun doesn’t really believe that, and he’s just being snarky for the sake of being snarky).

So Lucy goes to get him but freezes when he saw the blood coming from the unsheathed hidden blade on Desmond’s left arm.

For a brief moment, flashes of Clay’s death shook Lucy to her very core, making her hands tremble and her skin pale.

Then she called out, “Desmond?”

And Desmond turned to look at her with mouth slit from ear to ear like a mockery of a vicious smile. As blood dripped on the floor, Desmond asked calmly, “Lucy…”

“Do I look like them now?”

[fearsmagazine]

UNWELCOME - Review

DISTRIBUTOR: Well Go USA Entertainment

SYNOPSIS:  “A couple escapes their urban nightmare to the tranquility of rural Ireland only to hear stories of mysterious beings who live in the gnarled, ancient wood at the foot of their new garden. As warned by their new neighbors, in Irish lore the Redcaps will come when called to help souls in dire need of rescue, but it’s crucial to remember that there is always a dear price to pay for their aid.”

REVIEW: I am a big fan of Irish filmmaker John Wright. If you’ve never seen his films “Robot Overlords” or “Grabbers” I highly recommend them. In fact, his 2012 film “Grabbers” would make an excellent aspiring for a double feature with UNWELCOME. Wright takes a bit of Irish folklore and adds some excellent visual effects that look like some old-school Wētā FX.

At its core, UNWELCOME is an old Irish folklore tale about the little people, here they are the red-caps. Maya, pregnant with their first child, and Jamie are still dealing with the trauma of being attacked in their London flat when Jamie’s aunt passes and leaves them her house in Ireland. As they are settling in, one of the owners of the local pub springs the legend of the red caps on her and asks her to take up the promise of leaving them a nightly tribute. Of course the city folks are taking it with a grain of salt and you can’t help but feel Maya is going to drop the ball. The title comes from the conflict between the Londoners and a local family contracted to work on the aunt’s house. Clearly the father, Whelan, is a loving abusive parent whose children are prejudiced against the British who came to their land, oppressed them and pillaged their land. It adds a nice socio-political edge to the tale. Of course go awry and Maya reaches out to the red-caps for help. Of course their help comes with a price. The red-caps feel spawned from the screenwriter’s imagination and have more in common with the creatures of films like “Don't Be Afraid of the Dark” (both the tv movie and feature film) and “The Trilogy of Terror” Zuni doll. It is a slow burn that builds to the climax where the little fellows go on a rampage. The nice thing is that while they are deadly wee folk, they are not invulnerable. It’s a bit more intense than “Grabbers” and is an excellent story.

The film quickly goes from the London apartment to the Irish countryside. The cinematography explodes with the colors and textures of the countryside, in contrast there are the shadows and hues that exist beyond the gate where the red-cap live. There are a variety of excellent locations and as the film moves into the land of the red-caps some excellent set pieces. The creatures are an excellent blend of live action and puppets, very impressive and almost on par with anything from the Peter Jackson Tolkien movies. There are some graphic moments, along with a few “oos” and “ahs,” and those are back loaded onto the climax and end of the film. The production designs are fabulous. I loved the red-cap home. I adored Christian Henson’s score. You would assume it would feature many traditional Irish instruments. However, they’re subtle and sparse, creating more of an engrossing dark fairy tale feel.

Wright has assembled a great cast. You’ll clearly recognize Colm Meaney, from his numerous credits including “Star Trek: Deep Space Nine," and Kristian Nairn, who played Hodor on “Game of Thrones.” The film features Hannah John-Kamen as Maya, who has appeared in the MCU and “Star Wars” films and Jamie is played by Douglas Booth, who we’ve seen in films like “Jupiter Ascending” and “Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.” It’s a very natural and organic cast that doesn't rely on stereotypes. I especially enjoyed Douglas Booth’s performance. He creates a sympathetic character who you feel for and are routing to overcome his trauma. I equally enjoyed the actors bringing the town folk to life.

UNWELCOME is a complex tale that uses Celtic myths, as well as Brothers Grimm fairytale themes, to explore themes of violence and how someone might respond is pushed to their limits. The red-cap became the embodiment of that extreme and is an interesting spin on a creature feature/horror film because they are not supernatural creatures, they can be killed, and feel like a force of nature. The film also addresses the concept of consequences for choices, be careful what you wish for. I like Warwick Davis and his work, but if you are a genre fan looking for a film to mark St. Patrick’s Day you couldn’t do better than Jon Wright’s “Grabbers” or certainly UNWELCOME.

CAST: Hannah John-Kamen, Douglas Booth, Jamie-Lee O'Donnell, Colm Meaney, Niamh Cusack, and Kristian Nairn. CREW: Director/Screenplay - Jon Wright; Screenplay - Mark Stay; Producers - Piers Tempest & Peter Touche; Cinematographer - Hamish Doyne-Ditmas; Score - Christian Henson; Editing - Zsófia Tálas; Production Designer - John Beard; Costume Designer - Annie Hardinge; Special Makeup Effects Designer - Kristyan Mallett; Special Effects Supervisor - Mark Holt; Visual Effects Supervisor - Paddy Eason. OFFICIAL: wellgousa.com/films/unwelcome FACEBOOK: www.facebook.com/WellGoUSA TWITTER: twitter.com/wellgousa TRAILER: https://youtu.be/WepP1wVhX8o RELEASE DATE: in theaters March 10th as part of AMC Theaters' Thrills and Chills, & on digital March 14th, 2023

**Until we can all head back into the theaters our “COVID Reel Value” will be similar to how you rate a film on digital platforms - 👍 (Like), 👌 (It’s just okay),  or 👎 (Dislike)

Reviewed by Joseph B Mauceri

[lorei-writes]

Ah, I think I disagree with the majority if not all the points you've made.

I've quoted parts directly and replied to them, for the sake of clarity. The majority of the post is hidden below the cut, to spare people not interested in such discussions. It does contain vaguely non-descriptive spoilers for Clavis' route.

More tragic by the fact people can't realise his genius because he's such a pain in the neck most of the time.

Plenty people we consider iconic / to be a genius in certain fields were that, if not downright abusive. We still consider or considered them icons, although sometimes eccentric ones.

Like I would have a hard time contemplating the wonder of, say, an advanced technological contraption if said contraption has just been used to powder me with flour, cover me in a gallon of honey and canon blast me into oblivion all the while it's creator is laughing maniacally as the earth caves in under me and quite literally swallows me.

Clavis' traps are by far not the only tangible proof of his genius, and considering the evidence provided, are not the one he should be most known for either.

Additionally, the claim about him being hard to appreciate due to being at the receiving end of his pranks stands in direct contradiction to the evidence provided in-game: one of the groups of people to express most appreciation for Clavis and who acknowledge his capability are the inhabitants of his territory. The very people who are among the primary targets of his antics.

The logistics of trap-making and his own personal schedule simply do not allow for Clavis to affect the entire Rhodolite. The majority of the nation has not got the taste of them personally, and considering Emma's initial reaction to them, it may not widely known that such contraptions are even a thing, let alone something common.

However, there are things Clavis invented that would have an immense impact on the life of an average person: medicine. His contribution to the field of pharmaceutics is major, even if the examples we get of that are limited. [The value of Clavis' work there is something acknowledged even by Sariel.]

One of the examples would be an effective remedy for fevers. Reducing them with help of herbal brews and cold compresses is not only not nearly as effective, it is terribly labour intensive.

Further, we know that he has invented laughing gas, and although it is a conjecture, we may assume he has developed some sort of vapour that causes for people to temporarily fall asleep [based on the description of what has happened to people who trespassed into his room, and, if I recall correctly, certain guards]. Sadly, it is not stated anywhere whether they were used in the context of medicine, but we must realise they could be used as means for pain relief during labour or surgeries. However, even if we decide that said possibility was overlooked, we should still acknowledge that Clavis disarming bandits with the help of laughing gas is the sort of things urban legends are made of. [The Book of Memories: The Day You Called My Name]

This is what would influence the life of an average person nearly anywhere in the country. This is the information that is likely to circulate. This is something he should be just as known for as his traps.

Because he's trying so hard to make the people of the court, those who dismissed him as an illegitimate child, notice him by any means possible. Not the kind of people you should try to have a change of heart.

He was also dismissed due to Chevalier's accomplishments and being unable to measure up to the same standard. Trying to gain attention was seemingly his only reason for acting out as a child. Currently, however, it may be uncertain.

Also, if they already thought poorly of him, making their opinion of him even worse would not lead to a change of heart.

By trying so hard to leave an impression on people, he chose the wrong impression to give and the wrong people to impress.

Does the way he carry himself not come with any other benefits, though? Is he doing it just to impress?

Clavis is seen as whacky. He is considered to be a potential traitor. Menace. Trouble. But still royalty.

Continuing on with his schemes not only provides him with delight and infamy, it puts him in an unique position where people who may otherwise be disinclined to engage with royalty or nobility feel secure enough to approach him. It is one of the things only he can do, one of the positions that only he can exploit -- and he does, as seen with careful redirection of anti-state sentiments post Bloodstained Rose Day.

If he is whacky, less people will take him at face value. Less people will be willing to consider some of his ideas as anything more than tales. Under certain circumstances, hiding away from the truth of who he is, is what gives him room to operate. (Say, if people were certain that his intention was to interfere with internal politics of another nation, they would likely try to stop him. If they think he may be a traitor, they need a proof to act first. Until they act, Clavis has quite a lot of freedom of movement.)

Admittedly, he may be getting an ego boost from this all, but my point is that there is some practicality to it as well.

But this is why only the people of the future will know of his genius. Looking in retrospect they will not see him for the flaws of the person that he was but for the great things that he created.

Partially agreed. They will have a distorted impression of him, as it happens when one becomes a historical figure. They will see him for his inventions, but we don't know what they may think about him as a person -- it may be that his eagerness to help all those in need will be overlooked. It may be that some proof of it will be found at some point*, and that it will spark controversy and discourse. The outcome will likely vary based on what data will be uncovered.

*- letters, diaries, sources on the management of his region, etc. etc.

One of Clavis' major tragedies is that he was born too early.

In the era of access to information being limited, the intellect may be part measured by one's ability to retain and recall it. Once that requirement is easily met, however, the creativity and the ability to utilise data becomes much more valuable.

Clavis is a genius in his own right. It is only that it is much too early for people to realise it.

[bonky-n-steeb]

𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁

𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙚𝙧! 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || Your neighbour is not who he seems to be.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || yandere, stalking, very creepy behaviour, break ins, licking..?. MINORS DNI

This is a DARK story!

I hadn’t written something dark in a while so I decided to write this. I know I told y’all about the pirate Bucky fic which is coming real soon. But till then enjoy this!

This is during the time between tws and cw when Bucky is on a run. Also this is vaguely based on an urban legend I read on Reddit.

Your smile.

It was all it took for him to fall in love with you.

He lived in flat 3A and you lived exactly across him in 3B. He had seen you for the first time on the day he had moved in. Your eyes were tired and your hair was out of place. You were definitely tired from working all day long, he deduced.

But then the moment you had seen him standing in the hallway, you had smiled at him. And at that instant, and every instant after that, you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

You had introduced yourself and asked if he was your new neighbour. He didn’t speak much, and he was wary of the people who did; but not you. Your voice was so soothing, he didn’t want you to stop.

He knew people were looking for him and he was being framed for the things he hadn’t done, or probably he had, he didn’t really remember much. And all he knew was that he had to be a step ahead of them.

He had changed many names and addresses and looks. But when giving his name, without hesitation he had replied, “James.” And from that day, your fate was permanently sealed.

On the second day, he tried to stop himself. Don’t James. Just don’t. He read the newspaper, he went to the market, mapped the surrounding area for exits and did all that he could to stop thinking about you.

But it was like a mad scientist and his equally crazy invention that no matter how much he tried, it wouldn’t just leave his mind. You were stuck in head, morning, afternoon, evening, midnight.

On the third day, he simply said fuck it and tailed you. With keen eyes, he observed every move you made. He had actually hoped that his infatuation would diminish after a day of getting to know you, but it only increased.

You were sweeter than the plums and radiant like the sun. Despite how clearly taxing your work was, you were always polite and helpful. You helped the old ladies in the market and asked him how his day was when you returned.

By the fifth day, he knew your entire life history by heart. Your parents. Your college major. Your job description. Your friends. Your favourite flower. Your route of walking home. Everything.

On the seventh day, he found himself standing in your house having a staring contest with your dog, Max. He was a sweet dog and he always greeted you at the door when you came home.

You dearly loved Max. And what you loved, Bucky loved too. There was a completely different exhilaration about being in your house. It was as if knowing you from the inside; it was very intimate for him.

From the book on your bedside table, to the pattern of your arrangement of shoes, Bucky noticed it all. He walked like a breeze in your house; silent and observant. As he walked through, he knew there wasn’t a chance he was ever giving up on you.

It was the twenty third day, and he sat deadly silent on a chair in your bedroom as you slept peacefully on the bed. Watching you sleep was very calming for him.

He had began this a long time back, but he didn’t mean any harm. The neighbourhood wasn’t really safe and break in’s were common. What if something happened to you?

He had made much progress with you. You still didn’t suspect a thing, and instead had invited him for a movie night with you last Sunday. He had thoroughly enjoyed watching you and you watched the movie.

But something disturbed your sleep as you closed your partially open mouth, furrowed your eyebrows and scratched your face. You must be dreaming.

Like a ghost, he silently got up from the chair and slipped below your bed. He very well knew that the ending of dreams usually brought along consciousness.

And as always, he was right. You slowly blinked your eyes open and changed your sides on the bed. You were still very sleepy and your vision was hazy but something felt different, as if someone else was there.

“Max, is that you?” Max had a habit of entering your room and strutting around. So you put your hand below to bed to pet your dog without really opening your eyes.

You felt him lick your palm and you patted his head with your eyes closed. “Good boy.” You were just too tired and drowsy to look down and you went back to sleep.

Bucky smirked to himself as he relished the taste of your skin on his tongue. He knew he needed to do something or else you would’ve woken up if you hadn’t got any response so he just licked your hand.

And you were just too sleepy to realise the difference between the short hair of your dog and long strands of Bucky’s hair when you patted his head. Luck is on my side tonight, he thought as went back to keeping a watch.

You stretched as you woke up in the morning. You really had a great sleep and an even better dream where you got some action with your mysterious neighbour, James.

Smiling to yourself, you walked up to the door and twisted the doorknob open with a signature click. When you heard the clicking of the lock, your blood ran cold, replacing all the joy you felt just moments ago.

The click indicated that the door was locked from the inside, so that meant…. Max couldn’t have possibly licked your palm at night. Then who?

The door was still locked that means someone had entered from… the window? You whipped your head around and saw the small chit neatly placed on your bedside drawer.

Running quickly, you took it in your hand to see a messy handwriting scribbled across. Breath left your lungs and you collapsed into the bed as your read the words,

‘dogs aren’t the only ones who lick’

[anueutsuhos-touhou-profiles]

Mamizou Futatsuiwa:

Tanuki are a species of raccoon-dogs native to Japan. Yet another of the most famous youkai in Japan is the bake-danuki, the youkai tanuki. They're notorious pranksters and shapeshifters, who often utilize their... massive testicles. You may have seen them in the movie Pom Poko.

Their representative in Touhou Project is Mamizou Futatsuiwa. (As far as I know she does not have the testicles. That's never brought up at all) She actually lived on the island of Sado in the Outside World for the longest time, being a famous folklore figure there, capable of both good and bad deeds. She came to Gensokyo by swimming all the way there, apparently.

Nue Houjuu is her long-time friend, and invited her to Gensokyo to assist the Myouren Temple in fighting against the Taoists. As such, she fights the protagonist as the Extra boss of Touhou 13: Ten Desires. She's kinda the subject of a bait and switch gag where everyone's expecting a more physically imposing youkai, like the giant skeleton gashadokuro, especially with how freaky Nue looks.

Since then, she's become a major recurring character in the series. She's a playable character and opponent in Touhou 13.5: Hopeless Masquerade, 14.5: Urban Legend in Limbo, and 15.5: Antinomy of Common Flowers. She's one of the main characters of the manga Forbidden Scrollery, and then of the manga Lotus Eaters, as well as making recurring appearances in Wild and Horned Hermit, giving her perhaps more manga screentime than any other character besides Reimu and Marisa.

Mamizou is basically a grandma. Sorta. She talks in a very "old-person" manner of speaking, wears old people clothing, and tends to act like a grandma around the more immature and innocent characters, giving them hard candies and the like. But she insists she's a young lass, of "only around a thousand years old."

Mamizou is a cunning schemer, trying to raise the status of tanuki in Gensokyo any way she can. She'd like nothing better than to rule over all of Gensokyo with an iron fist. Still, almost all her appearances have been on relatively peaceful terms with the cast. She's taking the slow route with all this. Mamizou has made many enemies, especially with the other youkai races who also wish to dominate Gensokyo, like the tengu or kappa. But she's also gathered a small army of followers, and seems to have already gathered all the tanuki in Gensokyo to her side. She's often found in the Human Village, disguised as a human, either for one of her schemes or just to hang out. Reimu knows full well about this, but thinks that if she exposed Mamizou, all that would happen is people getting mad at her for allowing Mamizou to infiltrate in the first place.

Generally Mamizou is willing to act nice to get people to do what she wants, or give her what she wants. When she's unable to manipulate people she resorts to intimidation to get what she wants. She's also incredibly prideful of her abilities, to the point of being a detriment, as she often plans half heartedly, assuming incorrectly that this is enough for a powerful genius such as herself.

That said, she's got a few friends: Nue, as said earlier, and a frenemy relationship with Suika Ibuki and Kasen Ibaraki. Her grandma-esque behavior towards younger characters seems also completely legitimate, and she's even helped at least one youkai girl gain a sense of self-worth with no ulterior motives.

Tanuki are traditionally portrayed as arch-rivals to kitsune, and Mamizou is no exception. It's said she made certain that not a single kitsune lives on the island of Sado. She despises kitsune on principle, but sadly she's never interacted with Ran to actually demonstrate this.

While Mamizou was summoned to Gensokyo to fight on behalf of the Myouren Temple, she has no real love for the place. She's by no means a devout Buddhist, or even tries to be. At best she hangs around the entrance giving advice to anyone coming in. Byakuren, in fact, cannot stand her, saying things like "why don't you turn into a rock or something- and then never change back."

She has quite the whacky spellcards. All of her bullets take the form of differently colored simplistic figures of people and animals. She's also able to summon her tanuki minions to aid her, or just to give emotional support. Her shape-shifting abilities are unparalleled in Gensokyo, with her only caveat being that she cannot remove her long tanuki tail or the leaf on her head. When shapeshifted into an opponent, she's able to flawlessly copy their attacks. She debuted this ability by turning into Reimu for her spellcard "Pseudo-Exorcism of the Stupid Shrine Maiden". She's even able to transform other people into animals! This changes depending on the person's personality and motifs.

Examples:

Reimu becomes a fox

Marisa becomes a crow

Miko becomes an owl

Koishi becomes a cat

Tenshi becomes a catfish

Yukari Yakumo becomes an axolotl (My personal favorite)

Oh yeah, and she also uses her transformation abilities to rip people off by turning leaves into money, paying with them, and then turning them back into leaves once she's safely away.

[katsuflossy]

Whatever It Takes

Pairing: Dabi x reader

WC: 2.3k

TW: Detailed parental abuse, detailed description of a mental episode, obscenities, mention of arranged marriage

A/n: ngl all of this is severely overdue but the recent chapter made my creative juices flow so here we are! Please enjoy💖

Taglist: @melanimed @mixfi @mythiccheroacademia @myhoodacademia @mypimpademia @ecao @strawberry-ice @plutropica @photosbyameil @lunabby010 @iiminibattlehero​ @sleepysheepkiara​

The air was crisp, dark, and cold, what one had expected for the autumn night. Only a few patrons roamed the streets in the twilight. Those that wander under the streetlight had their eyes crossed, mind buzzed, and hand full of one final drink due to being kicked out of the bars. The ladies of the kingdom stayed within the comfort of their homes. They laid around the compassion of their loves or their families, only knowing of the horrors of the outside through gossip. The most recent urban legend paced through the streets with a scowl fixed on his face. Azure eyes glowed danger through the darkness, never revealing the coat-clad scarred body until passing under the street lights. The drunks waddled out of Dabi’s way, feeling the rolls of anger off of him from a twenty-meter radius. For once, the fire quirk wielder ignored the low bastards, never smirking as they cowered in fear nor sparking their shoes afire, laughing as they tried to put them out. No, his mind was occupied, fist clenching and unclenching in the pocket of his coat. Thoughts of past and future overwrote each other in his brain, creating a void of black in his mind. His own psyche started to turn on him again, knowing what’s about to happen would risk many lives. However, Dabi cared only about two lives-- his own and yours.

Like God gave him a sign, he passed the alleyway of a sweet memory. Running away from authority was his regular schedule since the age of 11 but he was close to getting caught one day. Caught but cunning, Dabi held you, hostage, by the neck. The little blue flame from his finger close to searing the flesh of your cheek as he backed into the dark alleyway, away from the entire police force out front. He dragged you through numerous yards before you begged him to stop, hands on your knees as you gulped for air. Glowing eyes stared at the ruby necklace that swang from your neck, almost daring him to try to take it. The second his fingertips could graze the jewel you slapped him away, grip tight on the chain and a fire in your eyes.

“You could take anything from me—shit even the pads of my shoes if you want—but I don’t want you to take this. Here, I’m sure the ring will cost more.” You glided the ring off your hand before offering it to Dabi.

Confused couldn’t even describe Dabi’s thoughts at that moment. Are you really offering a lowlife scum precious jewels? With a smile on your face?

“Are you demented?” The tilt of your lips turned down into a scowl. A haughty hmph passed your nostrils as you looked away from the criminal.

“You were stealing from Greggley’s pawn shop. The same bastard that swindles townsfolk out of their money and rats out people to the police for a living. I’d pay to see that fear on his face again when you ran off with me and his pile of stolen goods. So here’s my payment.” Dabi cautiously took the sapphire ring from your palm. The situation was ironic, he seemed more fearful than you. Cyan eyes watched as the dust on your outfit disappeared by the pats and sweeps of your hands before jumping up. You stayed rocking from the heels of your feet to the soles, eyes waiting expectantly on the chilled man to say something. Instead, his eyes bored straight into yours, deadpanned as he occasionally averted his gaze from the entrance of the deep alley, then back to you. The shouts of police guards had left from long ago; the sounds of their frantic pace went far off into the distance. Yet, you remained in this cramped space with him.

It unnerved him to no end.

“Well, your highness, your mutts went the other way to look for you. You can scurry away now,” He questioned his words. Why is he letting you go so easily? You were a perfect hostage. Just by your yelp, he could have your father in his palms, an important piece to the league’s ultimate plan. The smile on your face didn’t ease his confusion at all. His eyes burned with irritation, upset by your cheerful demeanor.

“Oi, are you fucking braindead? I said scram,” Your face dropped, forming a pout before pulling into a smile again. Dabi felt his eye twitch as you began to chuckle. His hand igniting blue flames as he stepped towards you. You put your hands up into the chilly air.

“Woah now, I’m just saying I could be of more use, Mr. Criminal.” The heat dissipated from his hand. His eyes looked as cold as marbles but within his head, he roamed over the possibilities, how and why should he trust you. Dabi was never a gambler, always a mouse wary of traps but today, he felt lucky. The once fiery hand laid out before you, staples glinting in the dim lighting.

“Dabi,” his eyes roamed over your face, noticing the crinkles at the corner of your eyes never softening, the gleam in your eyes shining more than before. You were actually happy.

“You already know my last name but that’s unimportant right now. The name’s (Y/n).”

The memory cleared away like smoke, reminding Dabi of his mission now. His hand clenched around nothing, his fist tight to relieve the searing anger in his chest. He imagined burning Shigaraki over and over, enveloping in the heat of his wrath as punishment for putting him on this mission.

Red beady eyes looked at Dabi in nonchalance, ignoring the smoke rising from his scarred hand.

“We built our whole organization on this end goal. We are one step closer to annihilating these ‘heroes’ and you’re rejecting this offer? Over some little noble mole?” the insult adding more fuel to Dabi’s rage and fire. His flames barely reached Tomura before being engulfed into another dimension thanks to Kurogiri’s interference. Unrelenting glares fixed at each other. Even then Shigaraki continued.

“I’m not saying it again. Either you do your job and save your blue-blood or they die by our hands.”

His eye pulsed; an ache coiled around his nape to his temple. His own anger throbbed in his head and blindsided his mind. He could add Shigaraki to his body count but your life, to him, was paramount. He withdrew his fire, recollecting himself before shoving his hands into his pockets. He surveyed the room, eyes scanning all the league in disdain; the others avoided his intense gaze. The gravel crunched under his heavy boots as he stomped out of the hideout.

Shigaraki’s threats echoed through Dabi’s head, anger already swelling at the thought of his red eyes as Dabi reached the edge of your house. The whirls of wind carried his coat in their stream, pulling the fabric all about. The walls of dark stone contrasted the warm yellow lights of your not-so-humble but welcoming abode. Dabi only knew the layout of your room but whenever he’s in there, there were hardly any lights from behind your bedroom door, just the occasional shuffling of the maids.

He halted his thoughts, pressing his foot against a jutted brick before hopping on to another. His movements were smooth and familiar as if he had perfected this route. He sat on the window’s stony ledge, fingers rapting against its pane, staring into the night as he waited on you to open the window panel.

Meanwhile, you were balled up in a corner, fingernails creating welts on your skin. Still, the stinging pain didn’t distract you from the taste of iron in your mouth, the phantom feeling of blunt rings on your cheek. Your silent cries shook you to your core, sharp inhales forced your weeping to stop, only for them to return again. All crying ceased once you heard knocking on your window, the same three raps then two softer taps only known to two. A familiar rhythm, one that closely relates to the song you made the criminal danced to during one night at a pub. The precious memory was unable to soothe the paranoia of your mind right now. A hitch in your breath paused all noises in your little quarter. If you stopped breathing, maybe he’d think no one was home. You ultimately stopped breathing only for harsher rapping to strike against your window.

On shaky legs, you stood up, swiping off any trails of tears and snot from your face. The cold air greeting you swung open the window for Dabi, who immediately hopped into the warm comb. He barely skimmed over your appearance before asking.

“What the fuck happened to you?” His hand came up to your swollen cheek; an obvious insignia marked the skin. You didn’t flinch away, instead, you wet your lips, pressing more into his palm. His hands were chilly from the cold outside but the contact warmed your entire body.

“I can’t do it anymore, Dabi.” A broken whisper escaped your lungs. Tears bled through your closed eyes, wetting Dabi’s thumb as he swiped a lone one away. He stood still, billions of thoughts jumbling in his mind as you bawled into his chest. Should he do this? On this night? Your well-being and the league’s plan fought for his attention. Every thought of his mission drowned by the sight of the insignia on your face.

“(Y/n), what the fuck did he do to you?” His shirt crumpled within your hands as you contemplated telling him the truth.

Nobody expected your father, an honorary Knight-Captain, to abuse his only child. It took one loose-lipped servant to say that you were seeing a commoner man in the kingdom for him to wrap his hands around your throat. You remember your body flailing, the coldness of your cheeks as tears fell from your bulging eyes. He dropped you by your mother’s cold command. As you gulped for any type of air she told you to stand. Her patience grew thin quickly as she ripped you off of the ground, your legs nearly collapsing from the force. A shroud of care she put herself under, letting her adorned knuckles skim across your cheekbones as she talked about your fate. You're being shipped off to marry the highest knight family, the Todorokis. Enjirou, commander of the Kingsguard, sought after you for his son, Natsuo Todoroki, for months. Your inappropriate actions caused your arranged marriage to arrive quicker. Her veil lifted, and in an instant, she whipped her hand across your face, the blow smacking your staggering body to the side. Their eyes entertained at your cry. She fixed her rings as she declared your fate. House arrest until the Todorokis picked up their new toy. They left you on the ground, weeping until Dabi arrived.

Stammers and hiccups escaped your lips instead of comprehensible words. His shirt crumpled under the intensity of your grip. In that time, Dabi had gathered all the information needed. The look in his eyes was unreadable as he loosened your constriction on his clothes, fingers interlacing in between your shaky digits. A shadow cast over his face as he talked to you.

“(Y/n),” your eyes dull and lost, you were wrapped up in your own severed psyche. A finger on your chin, he guided you to meet his eyes.

“Let me fix this,” It wasn’t a duel, but warfare that unfolded in his headspace as he asked, begged for your permission. You barely felt yourself nod before seeing the flame reignited in Dabi’s eyes. The smile on his face grew like a wildfire, nearly meeting the staples under his eyes. He left your numb body with a soft peck and a willful promise before walking, for the first time, out your bedroom door. Muted footsteps sounded miles away even though he left the door wide open. When did you end up on the ground, scraped knees meeting the plush of your rug, though you did not feel it? The warmth of the room dissipated from the air, goosebumps rising along your skin. Your body could only focus on one sense at a time, tuning into the sounds around you. Though muffled, you could hear the guttural screaming coming from rooms away. The cries formed into pleas before morphing back into incomprehensibility. Whether your body was protecting you from further trauma or not, your audible sense shut off only to look at the smeared blood all over your rug. Your ears never picked up on your outcry, pushing your diaphragm, but Dabi’s did.

He sprinted back to your room immediately, leaving his fires to completely consume your parents and lick at the foundations of the walls. His black coat draped over your body before he lifted you into his arms. The hungry fire now satiated, he left the same way he entered but with now, with you within his arms.

He knows what he did wrong, rubbing salt into your traumatic wounds, but he had a mission to do. He held your trembling body closer to his lithe frame. The league finally made their first step to instigating chaos but that did not matter right now. Dashing through the alleyways, he took a look into your blank eyes, cast away into another realm. The sounds of the Knights fighting against your burning house faded as he ran. He rested his forehead against yours, eyes squeezing shut as he made another promise to you.

“No one will ever tear us apart. I don’t care if this whole place burns to the ground. Just know you are the only one that matters. It’ll just be me and you at the end. Whatever it takes to get there.”

[ahs-theories]

Episode reaction: 9x06 Episode 100

@echoesout | @its-a-goode-day

Well! That episode was...interesting. I know a lot of people were disappointed that there wasn’t anything really special done for the 100th episode, but they do have a plot to stick to. That aside though, it was also definitely less action and more set-up.

I was kind of hoping for something “special” but I also knew it was a long shot, especially since the season will only have 9 episodes. It was their mistake, though, they shouldn’t have announced it as the 100th episode, making a big deal out of it.

We totally called the time jump! And I had a feeling Donna was going to be the one to get Brooke out, though the way she did it was a lot more badass than my theory. Looks like she’s gotten over the weepy “what have I done?!” phase and is ready to go after Margaret and try to atone. I, for one, can’t wait.

Same. It definitely seems it’s going to be Brooke and Donna against Margaret. It’ll be interesting to see where the ghosts fall in the battle. They could very well go after Margaret, but they have their own grudges like Montana with Brooke.

Richter getting married and having a kid was a surprise, and dare I say a good one? Maybe not the most exciting, but I liked it, and it was really sad to see that get ripped away, even if it freed him up to go after Margaret. I’m just glad his son didn’t die. And I keep trying to think of whether he grows up to be anyone else we know from the show.

The biggest twist to me was Margaret and Trevor. One, didn’t expect him to be alive. Two, didn’t expect Margaret to go into haunted real estate? Three, that beehive hairdo. They make a fun and totally weird couple, though. Can’t wait to see how that plays out. Also, Montana and Xavier are a very random pairing.

I’m calling it now. Someone will kill Margaret, very publicly, and no one will raise a finger to help her because they will think it’s all part of the show in the camp Halloween celebration thing.

And next week is the episode we’ve kind of all been waiting for (mostly for Lily), The Lady in White! For a reminder, here’s the episode summary:

A hidden chapter of Camp Redwood is revealed. The survivors help a stranded hitchhiker.

So, let’s dive in!

The Hitchhiker

At first, I thought the hitchhiker and the lady in white could be one in the same, like in Supernatural, or another ghost from the camp. But from the episode trailer, it now seems like Dylan McDermott’s character is the hitchhiker. We see him in the car with Donna and Brooke, then Brooke asking him “where [these] psychos keep coming from?” and Donna tied up in the road, apparently about to be run over. 

We did some digging and couldn’t find any active serial killers at the time who posed at hitchhikers, so exactly who this guy is remains a mystery, as well as what he might have to do with the larger plot. Our main theory right now is that he could be a wannabe killer, maybe someone inspired by famous murders like Camp Redwood. With the main plot ramping up, I don’t know why they would throw a random new guy in for an episode, so I’m thinking maybe he targeted Donna and Brooke specifically, knowing who they are and maybe wanting to go to Margaret’s festival. Or perhaps he has a personal connection to the camp--a relative of someone who died wanting revenge.

The Lady in White

The lady in white is a fairly common figure in urban legends as a ghost searching for a lost loved one, usually her husband or child. It’s also another title taken from an 80s slasher film, again about dead children. Since this is also the episode Lily Rabe is supposed to appear in, the leading theory right now is that she’ll play this figure. The “hidden chapter” part of the summary could suggest something sinister about the grounds before Camp Redwood’s time. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time a place with evil energy led someone already disturbed to go into full-on bloodlust. Murder House, anyone? Going with this, there’s a rumor that the ghost is Lavinia Fisher, a serial killer from the 1800s, but this hasn’t been substantiated and seems like a very unlikely choice considering Lavinia lived, committed her murders, and died in South Carolina. 

The other option is that the “hidden chapter” just refers to Margaret’s real role finally coming to light. Running with this and the urban legend part, the lady in white could possibly the mother or relative of someone Margaret murdered. She might not even be a ghost at all but a woman who hears about the plans for the camp and wants to stop it. But if it is a ghost, the fact that the episode takes place on Halloween will be important. More on that later. 

However, even if it is someone connected to the camp, I’m wondering about the purpose of introducing another ghost for just one episode in the middle of everything going on. There are already so many bigger players after Margaret. My alternate theory is that the lady in white refers to Margaret, who committed the original murders in her white nightgown. This would go with the theory of her actions finally being revealed to everyone. And, if the lady in white is not Lily, I’ve been thinking about who she could be playing. Maybe one of the musicians advertised for the festival? Belinda Carlisle would be the right age range.

I believe we never got an official confirmation of Lily being in the episode, did we? I’m still very suspicious that she was not featured in the preview, while Dylan was. So I’m not holding my breath just yet. I think she’ll either not be in it in the end or she’ll have a very minor role. I said this once, and cause I liked the idea I’ll say it again: petition for Satan to resurrect Sister Mary Eunice 😅

The Deadly Trio

Honestly, with all the set up that’s happening, whoever this mysterious “deadly trio” will be is still unclear. “Unleashing a new era” at the camp could mean a lot of things, though the most obvious one is another massacre. Margaret doesn’t seem to have any standing plans for one, but she didn’t last time either. She just took the opportunity that presented itself. We’ve also got Ramirez, and Montana and Xavier are certainly a trigger-happy duo. But, back to the Halloween thing, the ghosts will be able to roam free if the rules of the Murphyverse stand, which means Montana might be more interested in going after Brooke. Plus, though the two of them definitely have the bloodlust, they’d also have to think about how crowded their little camp would get if they went on a spree.

On the other side of this fight, we’ll presumably have Brooke, Donna, Ray, and possibly Chet and Trevor and some of the counselors from the original massacre trying to stop the killings, and Richter just trying to get Margaret.

The Final Girl

We finally have the title and summary for episode 9, which may or may not be the last episode of the season: “The camp tries to draw in a lost soul looking for closure.” It definitely sounds like Brooke, maybe Donna, but Margaret and Montana don’t really fit the profile.

It seems they’re going to go down the traditional route with this. But how cool it would be if Margaret ended up being the final girl. We haven’t had a real twist this season, they could very well add it at the very end.

[vampireadamooc]

Links tracing the Internet’s History of the Ojai Vampire.

The Ojai Vampire

Tuesday, September 6, 2011 http://thedemoniacal.blogspot.com/2011/09/ojai-vampire.html

The Ojai Vampire wan an alleged vampire that moved to Ojai, CA, circa 1890, and set up home near Creek Road.

Appearance: An undead corpse.

Lore: According to local folklore, circa 1890 a European vampire moved to the area of Ojai, CA, and set up home near Creek Road. The vampire was blamed for mysterious animal disappearances, cattle mutilations, and strange disappearances and murders of people. The vampire was dispatched by a local mob who crept up to the monster's stone sarcophagus which was guarded by a black dog. The mob sprayed the hell hound with holy water, causing it to flee. The mob then lifted the lid of the sarcophagus and drove a stake through the heart of the vampire. The vampire troubled the community no more.

According to some forms of the legend, the mob took the remains of the vampire and encased them in a slab of  cement. The slab was then hidden in nearby Camp Comfort County Park. To this day there are individuals who claim they know where the remains of the vampire are hidden, It is also still common for people to meet up in groups to attempt to find the location of the vampire's remains or of it's former stone sarcophagus.

Powers: Typical powers associated with vampires.

Defense Against The Ojai Vampire: The Ojai Vampire is no threat as it was killed by a local mob.

Posted by Doc Conjure at 2:42 PM

3 comments: Anonymous said... i have seen the vampire of ojai califorina i will never tell of it's loction neer camp comfort me and my friend found it we saw the black dog too. the vampire is real. not a story. i will never go back to that spot again, ever. i felt like we where being watched.. the black dog attacked us.it was very uncomfortable for us. we saw him in the coffin. you can see him if you can find it on your own...do not mess with the stake in his chest.......

January 11, 2013 at 3:07 PM Anonymous said... to those who have seen the black dog leave a black rose for me and let him know i am beseach him to the fulliest and thank him for being and existing in all worlds . emerald-grace3 - queen rebecca of rome italy

July 7, 2013 at 12:40 PM Anonymous said... Plz believe me leave the black dog alone when me and my friend came a cross the black dog it was not cool and me and my friend haven't talked since that day and we grew up together I see him every once in awhile and still no words between us it changed us both it has taken me awhile to send you this message stay away from the black dog and I will never leave anything for that dog if you feel you need to find the black dog good luck in trying to find the black dog

March 22, 2018 at 12:35 AM

----------------

Ojai Vampire Update

Thursday, February 11, 2010 http://doaav.blogspot.com/2010/02/got-so-caught-up-in-new-vampire.html

Got so caught up in the new vampire encyclopaedia news, that I completely forgot about my further investigations in the Ojai Vampire!

After their previous response, I sent them another e-mail ("RE: A Query about Camp Comfort Park", Tuesday, 9 February 2010 7:19:42 PM). I was trying to determine if they had heard any variants of the tale: Hello,

Thanks for giving me the heads up on the sarcophagus issue.

I'm interested to know if you've actually heard about the vampire legend, however. What's your version of it?

~ Anthony And here's what they wrote back ("RE: A Query about Camp Comfort Park", Wednesday, 10 February 2010 3:47:04 AM): Office staff is unaware of any tall tales that have to do with so called "vampires" and the County parks. This makes me think that maybe the legend isn't as widespread as I thought. That, or they're new!

Or, we could go the conspiracy route and suggest they're covering up, but even if that was the case, would you want a bunch of vampire hunting wannabes to be scouring your Park, looking for a (most-likely) non-existent sarcophagus?

Didn't think so.

Besides, the story's obviously bogus. But it's an interesting lesson in the way "stories" are passed along. As long as no-one gets hurt, of course.

Posted by Anthony Hogg at 1:34 AM

----------------

http://doaav.blogspot.com/2010/02/not-alls-sunny-in-california.html Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Not All's Sunny in California

I first read about the Ojai Vampire in Martin V. Riccardo's "Vampire Haunts" chapter for Rosemary Ellen Guiley with J.B. Macabre's The Complete Vampire Companion (New York: Macmillan, 1994).

The story is told on pp. 47-48 and relates the account of (unnamed) local ranchers finding their cattle mutilated and exsanguinated in the 1980s. They suspect a vampire, arm themselves and target a new landowner.

They come across something that resembles a "large stone box near a crossroad off Creek Road" and hear a vicious growl. It comes from a large black dog guarding this "box" (actually a sarcophagus). One of the ranchers whips out a large, silver crucifix, which keeps the dog at bay.

When they get closer to the box, the dog lunges for them, and they fire at it, with no effect. A plucky rancher flings holy water at it and the dog shrieks and runs away, leaving them free to approach the tomb "surrounded by tall weeds under the tree".

They pried off the lid and find "the cadaverous body of a nobleman" and stake it through the heart, just as the sun begins to set, and replace the lid.

Riccardo points out that the story contains "common pagan, Christian, and fictional elements of the vampire myth", taking note of the "crossroad, the spectral black dog, the nobleman, the silver crucifix, and the approaching dusk" (47). He also notes that a black dog is sometimes seen in the area and the sarcophagus has apparently been found, on occasion, with a window in the lid that reveals the vampire's unholy remains.

The story still circulates in Ojai, and is related on a section of Weird California's "Char Man" article. However, the date given in the story is vastly different from Riccardo's account. It also gives a bit of a background to the mysterious nobleman, too: According to urban legend, a vampire relocated to the Ojai area around 1890 from either Italy or Spain. He acquired a small ranch and kept a low profile. However, as soon as he arrived, local cattle began turning up dead and drained of blood. Shortly thereafter locals were assaulted by strange wolf like creatures. The townsfolk got up in arms and realizing that a vampire was in their midst, raided the vampire’s ranch during the day. There's also speculation as to the story's origins and a more specific geographic location of the vampire's resting place. It ends with a sombre warning: It has been speculated that this legend cropped up from a possible real life above ground tomb. It is plausible that an old family near the turn of the century could have buried their dead in this manner upon their estate. It is not only not unheard of, but also apparently the custom at the time in certain parts of Europe. Even the window in the stone coffin isn’t completely unheard of. Stating that, however, if you are wandering around Camp Comfort County Park and come upon a stone sarcophagus with a skeleton inside, don’t pull out the wooden stake. I did some more browsing on the case and found a classic friend-of-a-friend account: Supposedly in the mid 1800s a Vampire Settled in the Ojai valley. In the late 1800s the villagers of Nordhoff, now Ojai, hunted him down and staked him through the heart. Now I have heard that the poeple incased the remains of the vampire in a slab of cement. A buddy of mine actually says that he knows the location of the concrete slab. he says it is about a mile back from the intrance of Camp Comfort across the stream and over the first hill.....a bit of a hike but worth checking out....On my next trip to Ojai it is in the agenda. This is the area where the Phantom Dog roams as well as Charman I tried registering with the forum, to ask this guy to produce a photo of the tomb, but was sadly confronted with this: "Sorry but you cannot register at this time because the administrator has disabled new account registrations."

I also came across what appears to be a slight variant of the story, but much less literate: A guy that transformed into a vampire is repeatedly observed concealing a dead body by a large boulder in Camp Comfort Park after midnight. One thing's for certain, this spirit undoubtedly is bloodcurdling; one that you don't want to encounter at the stroke of midnight. The Ojai Vampire has all the classic urban legend traits, but I'm also reminded of certain elements in 1959 Western, Curse of the Undead.

Not only is it set in California, but the plot revolves around a mysterious gunman, ranch wars and a vampiric plague.

To cap it off, the vampire turns out to be Don Robles, a Spanish nobleman.

Posted by Anthony Hogg at 4:30 AM

----------------

http://doaav.blogspot.com/2010/02/chasing-up-ojai-vampire.html Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Chasing Up the Ojai Vampire

After writing my previous entry, I e-mailed the Ventura County Parks Department (who administer Camp Comfort) with the following ("A Query about Camp Comfort Park", Tuesday, 9 February 2010 5:02:50 AM): Good morning,

Have you heard of the Ojai Vampire?

If so, what's the story you've heard?

It's apparently centred around Camp Comfort County Park.

There's rumours of a sarcophagus that's meant to be somewhere in the area, containing the remains of a vampire.

I don't believe in the story, but I'm wondering if the sarcophagus might actually exist. Can you confirm or deny this?

Sinc., Anthony Hogg And here's what they wrote back ("Re: A Query about Camp Comfort Park", Tuesday, 9 February 2010 7:37:41 AM): The Parks Department Administrative staff knows nothing about a sarcophagus onsite at any of the County parks. And you'd think they would, if there was one out there.

Nonetheless, they weren't very forthcoming about the vampire legend, so maybe they "get that a lot".

If any readers out there have been to Camp Comfort and seen a sarcophagus, or, better yet, have a picture of it, I'd love to hear from you!

Posted by Anthony Hogg at 7:36 PM

[loretranscripts]

Lore Episode 5: Under Construction (Transcript) - 4th May 2015

tw: nothing I can think of! This one’s a nice one (but ask if you think anything should be tagged)

Disclaimer: This transcript is entirely non-profit and fan-made. All credit for this content goes to Aaron Mahnke, creator of Lore podcast. It is by a fan, for fans, and meant to make the content of the podcast more accessible to all. Also, there may be mistakes, despite rigorous re-reading on my part. Feel free to point them out, but please be nice!

On the south-west corner of Iceland, just to the south of the city of Reykjavik, is a small peninsula that juts out into the cold waters of the north Atlantic. It’s known as the Álftanes peninsula, and although few people live there, the local government recently decided to connect this small stretch of land to the town of Garðabær, a suburb of Reykjavik. Last year, however, construction on the new road was brought to a halt. Standing in their way was a massive rock, 12ft high and weighing an estimated 70 tons. According to highway department employee Petur Matthiasson, the rock has presented an unusual challenge to his department’s construction project. Now, you have to understand something about Iceland. Much of the region is a vast expanse of sparse grass and large volcanic rock formations. The ground literally boils with hot water at springs and geysers, and the sky seems to be eternally grey and cloudy. So, it’s important to recognise that there are hundreds, maybe thousands of these volcanic stones along the construction route. So, what could possibly be so important about this one, particular stone? Why would the highway department go to such lengths, even covering the expense of hiring a crane, just to move the stone to a safer location? The stone, they say, is inhabited. It is, as it has been for many long centuries, home to the Huldufólk- the “hidden people”. They are the size and shape of humans and live in much the same way that we do, except, of course, they’re invisible. I’m Aaron Mahnke, and this is Lore.

In the late 1930s, another road construction project in the same area of Iceland was planned to cut straight through a hill known as Alfholl. From the beginning though, the project was met with challenges. First, the money for the project simply ran out, and when funding resumed a decade later, construction encountered even more problems. The machines that were used to cut through the hill started to break at an unusual rate. Tools were damaged and lost. In the end, the road was simply built around the hill to avoid the digging altogether. When the road was due for updating in the 1980s, the notion of demolishing the hill was, again, brought up, and this time more machinery was brought in to drill through the actual hill. After the first drill broke, another was brought in, but it too stopped working. After that the workers themselves even refused to bring any of their own tools near the hill out of fear that they would be lost or broken by the Huldufólk who guard the place. Iceland is a culture that is teaming with references to this invisible society of human-like creatures. In a recent survey, more than half the people in the country (54%, in fact) said that they believed in the existence of these creatures. But who are the Huldufólk?

According to one Icelandic folk tale, the hidden people can be traced back to Adam and Eve. According to the legend, Eve had a number of children who she hid from God. But God, being omniscient and aware of everything that happens, found them anyway. In the story, God declared that what man hides from God, God will hide from man. As a result, these children of Adam and Eve vanished from sight and have lived alongside humans ever since, hidden from our eyes. Wherever they came from, Iceland is apparently filled with them. They are described as being the same size as humans, usually clad in 19th century Icelandic clothing, which is often described as being green and simple. The people of Iceland have another term for these creatures, though. They don’t use it as often as Huldufólk, because they feel it’s not as respectful to the hidden people, but it’s a word we all know, and its history and meaning run very deep. They call them… elves.

When we think of elves, most of us imagine the little people who help Santa Claus in his workshop at the North Pole. We picture tiny people with pointed ears who wear tall, pointed hats. But that vision of elves is actually new, dating back only to Victorian Era fairy tales, when French stories of fairies were mixed and confused with more ancient tales of elves from the Celtic, Germanic and Scandinavian peoples. The oldest records of something resembling elves are from Anglo-Saxon England and medieval Iceland, though there are some records that exist from Germany as well, and the characteristics are consistent across the continents. Elves were described as human-like; that they were once divine creatures of some unknown origin, and that they were very, very dangerous. In Norse Mythology elves were mainly thought of as females who lived in the hills and mounds of stone. The Swedish elves were said to be beautiful girls who lived in the forest with their king, and Scandinavian folklore describes them as fair-haired, dressed in white, and dangerous when offended. In fact, in many folk tales elves were given the role of the disease spirits. An elf could inflict horrible skin rashes on the one who offended them, and the term was called an “elven blow”. The only way to calm and satisfy them was to actually visit their homes, often a large pile of stones or a large stone in the woods, and leave them an offering of food. Elves, you see, were dangerous.

At first, elves were simply thought of as mischievous pranksters. Anything odd that happened during a person’s day could be blamed on elves. A tangle in a person’s hair was called an elf-lock, and birth marks were referred to as elf-marks. Elves had a darker side, however. Much like their cultural counterparts in other countries such as hobs, leprechauns, hob-goblins and trolls, elves were known to be highly dangerous. A deeply common thread through all cultures is how easy it is to offend them, and how terrible the consequences might be if that happened. One such tale was that of the “changeling”. According to legend, elves would invade the home of new parents and swap out their infant child for a small elf. Now, while the human baby would be wonderfully cared for back in the home of the elves, the surrogate that was left behind – the “changeling”, it was called – would be fussy and unhappy. In Iceland, there are tales of Huldufólk who kidnapped adults, who are then taken back to the hills to work for the hidden people. In their place, the Huldufólkleave emotionless, hollow copies of the ones they take. It was said that if someone you knew underwent a severe personality change, becoming depressed or listless, it was because they had been replaced by the elves. It was also believed that elves could enter the dreams of a sleeping person and cause nightmares to happen. In fact, the German word for nightmare is alpdrücken, which literally means “elf pressure”. You see, if it was horrible, unexplainable or tragic, there was always one easy explanation that dominated medieval minds: blame it on the elves.

But what if these were more than just folktales? If so, that might explain the incredibly similar stories that exist among the native tribes of the American north-east. In 2011, a non-profit housing developer in the United States began the final stages of their plan to build a $19 million, 120 unit construction project known as “The Villages”. Everything about it looked promising. It would generate roughly $1.5 million in tax revenue for the town of Montville, Connecticut, it would create over 100 construction-related jobs, and once completed, would actually provide affordable housing for scores of local families. Now, because the “Villages” project was a non-profit endeavour, the development company applied for federal funding to offset their costs. As a requirement for the funding process, the developer was required to complete an archaeological survey of the 12.2  acre parcel of land, and that’s when they hit a snag.

The proposed building site, it turns out, encroached on Mohican tribe property. The Mohican people were an offshoot of the Pequot tribe, originating in 17thcentury Connecticut. They had deep routes in the area, and naturally parts of their historic past are still present today. Among the sensitive archaeological sites that the Mohican tribe claimed were at risk were Fort Shantok, Moshup’s Rock, and Mohican Hill. None of those historic sites are unusual in any way, but when the tribal historic preservation officer for the Mohicans presented their case to the Federal Housing and Urban Development Department, there was one complaint that stood out among the others. Creatures, they claimed, lived inside Mohican Hill. The construction project threatened their lives, and unless it was stopped, the “little people”, as they called them, would disappear, leaving the tribe unprotected from outsiders. The tribe has long believed in the existence of creatures who they call Makiawisug - the “little people”. The stone piles on top of Mohican Hill were said to have been built by them long ago, and served as protection from the outside world. These Makiawisug have remained inside the hill ever since, guarding the stones and protecting the tribe. These were powerful creatures that could protect and preserve the tribe, but if ignored or treated poorly, could also bring great harm and chaos, and so naturally the Mohican people became very good at managing their relationship with them.

One of the most prominent Mohican tribe members of the last century was a woman named Gladys Tantaquidgeon, who passed away in 2005 at the age of 106. She was a 10th generation descendant of the Mohican chief Uncas, a prominent colonial era leader, and was also a tribal medicine woman. Her role included maintaining her tribe’s knowledge of the Makiawisug, and how to interact with them. According to Tantaquidgeon, there were even four non-negotiable laws for dealing with the “little people”. First, serve and protect their leader and matriarchal deity, Granny Squannit. Second, never speak to them in the summer months, when they’re the most active. Third, never stare directly at one, or else the creature would become invisible and steal your belongings. And finally, leave them offerings from time to time. And so, to this day, the Mohican tribe continues to make offerings to these creatures and hopes that they will continue their role as protectors and guardians of the tribe. It is traditional to leave them an offering of cornmeal and berries, and sometimes even meat. Sound familiar?

The vast majority of people in the world don’t really believe in the existence of elves or hidden people living in the bones of the earth. One explanation as to why Iceland is different, though, actually has to do with the Vikings. You see, when they conquered a city, the Vikings had real life enemies to focus their hatred on. When they settled Iceland, however, no one else was there to be defeated. Perhaps the Huldufólk provided the excuse that the Vikings needed to feel like conquerors in a land with no native inhabitants. Other scholars believe that elves represent our connection to the earth of old. They are sort of a primitive environmentalism, a reminder of the way life used to be before urban sprawl and manufacturing left its mark on our world. Whatever the reason, our ancestors firmly believed in these other-worldly beings who could bless or curse them at will. Elves served as an excuse for the unexplained; as solid ground when nothing else seemed to make sense. We might laugh it off from our modern point of view today, but centuries ago, elves literally gave people an opportunity to hope, or a reason to be afraid.

And remember Petur Matthiasson, the highway department employee in Reykjavik, Iceland? He’s made it very clear to journalists that he doesn’t believe in elves, but that doesn’t stop him from telling an odd story to those who ask. Apparently, his family came from the northern side of Iceland long ago. There, in the wild north country, the family claimed to have had a protective elf who brought good fortune to them. When they moved south, the family elf remained behind. Petur recalled going on a camping trip in the north some years ago. Before he left, his father asked him, while he was there, to go and pay his respects to the elf and to thank her for the help she had given his family. Not being one to believe in the old stories, Petur claims he forgot. The next day, however, despite an overcast sky and wet drizzle, he woke up sore and blistered by what he described as something like a sunburn. In fact, he could barely stand. Did Petur experience some random, mysterious dermatological episode, or was he the victim of an elven blow from an angry family patron. Like his ancestors, the easiest explanation might just be the most otherworldly.

Lore is a biweekly podcast and was produced by me, Aaron Mahnke. The music in this episode was written by Dexter Britain – be sure to check him out on Soundcloud. Lore is now on Patreon! For as little as $1 each month, you can help Lore become a self-sufficient podcast. There are some fantastic rewards for those who do, so visit lorepodcast.com/support to learn more. And if you enjoy scary stories, I happen to write them. You can find a full list of my supernatural thrillers, available in paperback and ebook format, at aaronmahnke.com/novels. Thanks for listening.

Notes

1. This theory about Vikings needing victims seems a bit off, given that there is plenty of evidence for peaceful interactions between the Vikings and other groups. Also, the first settlers were not “Vikings” as such, who were largely displaced wonderers, but were in fact settled men of power in Norway most likely. Their motivation isn’t known, but most likely had more to do with a desire for more power and independent control, and less to do with conquering.

[rickstexaschick]

Random Picks, Chapter 5:  Coach Sanchez, Part 1

You have to satisfy your PE credit before you can graduate. You thought this would be an easy option...

It was in the mid-90s when I went back to college to finish my degree, having taken the "long route" path through life to get there.  A few years working at different fast food restaurants, then worked my way up through management at a retail clothing store at the mall...  I even tried being the assistant to a family photographer -- who turned out to be less than family oriented in his handling of his employees...

"No" apparently didn't mean "no" to him; and the whole "Me Too" movement wouldn't happen for another 20 years.

Finally, even I had to agree with my patient and long-suffering parents and admit that I was getting to Nowheresville fast.  So, I went back to school, taking mostly night classes wherever possible while working full time during the day, until I was down to the final semester, getting ready to register for those last few courses and then I'd be done.  That's when my advisor told me that I wouldn't graduate without completing the 2 hour physical education requirement.

Christ.  28 years old and I still had to do Phys Ed?!  It was so fucking stupid.  I scanned the listing for the less-strenuous courses -- archery? bowling?  Nothing held any appeal for me whatsoever.  I still had a week or so to come to a decision and was sitting in the Commons area.  I was “Slamming and Cramming,” which was basically slamming coffee and doing some last minute cramming for a final exam.  I overheard 2 students talking about their racquetball class.

Ooh!  Racquetball.  I'd missed seeing that on the listing.  I tuned out the students' remaining conversation and pulled out my worn and tattered copy of the next semester's course listings.  Quickly flipping to the PE section---sure enough, there were 2 different classes offered.  I had to pick the late one at 6pm, which would give me an hour break at the end of my work shift.  Yuck, a PE class at 6pm.  Oh well, it would have to do.

Fortunately I come from what you would call a Racquetball Fanatic Family.  Other families did tennis or golf, ours was racquetball.  My dad had gotten really into it, when it first became popular, and for a number of years he participated in semi-pro tournaments.  Then he became a rep for one of the bigger equipment companies.  My older brother did even better and started playing in junior tournaments when he was 15, then turned pro at 18 and continued doing it for years.  Not that that was a lucrative thing, but still...  Then he, too, took a job as a rep with the same company as my dad.

I dabbled in it, playing in junior tournaments here and there while I was in high school, but I wasn't as good as my brother or my dad, or maybe it just didn't appeal to me as much.  And I didn't really want to travel around selling sporting equipment.  So, that was my racquetball story.  At least now it would pay off, and this would be an easy "A."

The semester ended and the new one started.  I was standing in a long line at the textbook store, waiting to check out when a guy standing in the line next to me happened to see the slim, used copy of "Handbook to Racquetball" on the top of my stack of books.

"Racquetball, huh?  Too bad you have to get Coach Sanchez this semester."

"Never heard of him," I said, hoping to avoid a long, drawn out conversation about some evil-tempered asshole.  So often these types of stories had no basis in fact, were more Urban Legend than anything. The scary calculus professor who failed everyone, or the female English professor who would sleep with 1 or 2 of her male students and would let them miss every class and still give them A's.

"He came out of retirement to coach this semester.  The regular coach was in a bad accident over Christmas."

We shuffled closer to the check-stands.

"You seem to know a lot about it," I said, finding my curiosity growing.  At least, the accident story sounded interesting.  I can rubberneck along with the best of them when it comes to passing a car pile-up on the road.

"I'm a Kinesiology Major — that's Phys Ed.  Gonna be a professional trainer when I finish," he said proudly, swelling himself up, holding his stomach in and puffing his chest out.  The guy looked the type---all bulky muscle, tanned, confident.  Probably more muscle than brains, like so many jocks.  He adjusted the heavy stack of books in his arms and continued.

"We heard all about Coach Radcliff's car accident -- he almost died.  Anyway, the way I heard, this guy Sanchez was pro for long time.  Taught here for a few years, then disappeared.  That was a while back.  Not the easiest guy to get along with, is what they say.  Kind of an asshole."

Huh, I thought.  I'd never heard of anyone with the last name of Sanchez, and the Racquetball World wasn't exactly huge...   We each stood in silence after that.  I paid for my books -- Holy Crap, these damn things were expensive.  If only I would actually read them...maybe I'd have better grades.

The first day of class came and I was running late from work, of course.  Story of my life...  The course listing said that the first 3 or 4 classes would start in the classroom setting, so at least I wouldn't make myself any later by having to run into the locker room to change first.  I opened the door to the classroom and was grateful when I realized that the door was in the back of the room -- so no "walk of shame" past everyone and the professor, interrupting the lecture.

I slipped into a desk at the end of a row as quietly as possible.  The room was long and narrow and there was a tall guy sitting in front of me.  I couldn't see the front without leaning past him and halfway out in the aisle, which I sure as hell wasn't going to do -- no need to draw anymore attention to myself.

"We-urp-ell.  It l-l-looks like our star player, our celebrity has finally fuckin' arrived..."   The man's voice was deep, rough.  And sounded very annoyed.  I looked around to see who'd come in behind me and realized to my horror that he meant me.

Oh shit.  Please don't let this class, my last semester, be like this...  Everyone in the room was looking at me.  I felt my face burning and tried to slide down a little in my chair.

The guy in front of me had turned around sideways in his seat to look at me, giving me a clear view of the man at the front of the class.  He was tall, lean, with a shock of blue-grey hair sticking out from his head in unruly waves.  Like he didn't own a hairbrush.  Even from the back of the classroom I could see his blue eyes piercing me.  Damn!  He was fucking sexy!  I sucked my breath in and felt myself growing wet.

He frowned.  "N-n-nice of you to join us.  Y-y-you didn't feel the need to change?"

I looked around and realized, to my horror again, that everyone was in shorts and t-shirts and had their racquets.

"Um, sir," my voice croaked and I had to clear my throat and start again.  "The course listing said that the first few lectures would be in the classroom.  So I thought..."  I trailed off lamely.

"Th-Then you thought wrong.  Go change.  Meet us on the courts.  Everyone else, let's (urp) go."

I gathered up my things and headed for the locker room, my face still burning with embarrassment.  How was it that I'd made this mistake, that everyone else knew to be in work-out clothes?  Then I stopped in my tracks at the entrance to the locker room, my hand on the door.  I didn't have any work-out clothes with me.  I wasn't expecting to need any yet.  Shit.  Shit, shit, shit.  Now what?

I turned around and went to the racquetball courts.  Coach Sanchez was trailing up the rear, the students having disappeared around a corner, and I caught up to him.

"Coach, I don't have anything with me.  I wasn't expecting to play today.  I'm sorry."

"Hhmmph."  He refused to look down at me, barely acknowledged that I'd said anything.  He continued walking, his long legs taking great strides and I struggled to keep up, taking two steps to his one.  We got to the wing of the building with the courts, everyone was standing around, waiting for instructions.  Coach paired everyone up and sent them off to the courts.  He turned and looked down at me.

"Go wait for me -- go up on the gallery."

Some racquetball courts are designed with the rear wall made of plexiglass, so observers can watch.  But being a classroom setting, this facility's courts were regular walled, with a viewing gallery on the second level so that the coach could look down on the various games and call out instructions.

I went up to the second level and set my things down in the corner.  I peered down onto the first court and watched two students clumsily knock the ball around.  I went from court to court and saw that this pretty much was the caliber of all the students in the class.  I ended up above court #9 and watched two guys hitting the ball wildly, laughing at themselves.  The tenth court was empty.

"This group f-f-fucking sucks."  He was standing right next to me and I nearly jumped out of my skin.  "Can't believe they talked -- talked me into this shit."  He pulled a metal flask from the hip pocket of his shorts and unscrewed the cap then took a deep pull.  His long fingers were wrapped around the flask, his other hand rested on the rail, his fingers taping it lightly.  I stared at them and wondered what they would feel like on my body...  He offered the flask to me, nudging my arm.  "Want some?"

"Uh, no thanks..."  I was pretty sure it wasn't Gatorade in that flask.  He stood uncomfortably close to me and I began to breathe quickly.  Occasionally he'd lean into me, on the pretense of craning his head down into the court below to watch a player, but he didn't immediately move away afterwards.  Soon he stayed pressed up against me.  His skin was warm and I started to feel wetness and heat bloom between my legs as the skin of his arm continued to rub against mine.  Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and took a careful sideways step away from him.  I could feel his eyes on me, but I kept my gaze steadfastly downward, pretending to watch the game below.

"Hhmmph," he chuckled.  "All r-r-right.  You can take off -- you can go.  Be here, be back Thursday, fucking on time and ready to -- you're gonna play for me."  He looked me up and down, smirking.

I stammered a goodbye, thanking him, then gathered my things and left.  My legs were so weak I nearly tripped down the stairs.

When I got to my car and started the engine, I had to sit there for a few minutes, waiting for the throbbing in my pussy to go away.  God, what was it about this man that made me so fucking horny?  Everything about him screamed "drunken lech" but all I could think about was him fucking me.  I wanted to reach down and rub my clit, finger fuck myself right there.  I took a quick look around the parking lot and didn't see anyone.  Coast clear.  Being winter, it was already dark out...should be safe enough.

I reached a hand down inside my pants and leaned over the steering wheel to hide myself.  Then I slowly rubbed my clit, thinking a quick orgasm would ease my tension before I drove home.  Reaching further, I pressed two fingers deep inside and began to stroke, thinking about his tall body, those elegant, long fingers...I was breathing heavily and sweating, I felt myself coming close --

A hard rapping on the driver's side window brought me back to reality and I yanked my hand out of my pants but stayed bent over the steering wheel.  Oh my God, here I was, caught masturbating in a school parking lot by the campus police.  What the fuck had I been thinking?!  I was too afraid to look up, but then the hand rapped on the window again.  I turned my head and it was Coach Sanchez.  He motioned for me to roll the window down.

"Y-you left without the -- without a copy of the syllabus."  His eyes gleamed and his smirk was positively lecherous.  He looked down at my hand where I had it down on the seat and I imagined that my fingers were dripping with my juices.  I was mortified.  I wanted to melt down into the floor boards of my car.

"L-L-Looks like you, uh, you could use some help there."

I cleared my throat, "Um, no.  I'd dropped my ID under the seat.  Was just trying to find it..."  It was such a blatant lie.  I couldn't look him in the face.

"Uh huh.  Here."  He leaned into the window and handed a copy of the syllabus in to me.  I could smell the faint odor of liquor on his breath.  "I let those fools out -- I let class out early.  Wanna get a drink?"

Now I really was mortified.  My coach had caught me masturbating in the car...Surely he knew I was thinking of him, and now he was asking me out for a drink?  My mind raced.  I can't say that I wasn't tempted...There was something about him.  Duh.  Obviously.  But, no.  I'd already had one affair with a professor.  It ended badly.  His wife had found out about us.  Threatened to have me kicked out of school -- but this would have ended her husband's career, so fortunately she didn't say anything.  I couldn't put myself through that again.

"Thank you, Coach Sanchez, but I worked all day and I'm really tired.  I think I'll just head home."

"Tired, huh?  D-d-don't let that be your -- affect your performance in the future."  He straightened up and stepped away from the door, rapping on the roof twice with his knuckles.  "See you -- see you on Thursday."

Grateful at finally being released, I rolled up the window and backed out and drove away.  I looked in my rearview mirror.  He remained in the same spot, watching my car until I turned down the row of the parking lot.

tbc

This was originally posted on Archive of Our Own:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15708732/chapters/36759801

[ladykoyotedraws]

The Unit - By Ranking Positions

  Have not actual ranks in the military due to the covertness of their operations and do not exist on any military record book, however, they do have pull within the military equivalent to a certain rank.

Top Row - Left To Right

"SARGE" - Demon -  Very much the fearless leader with a heart of gold under a very rough and harsh exterior.  He's a grump, an asshole and emotionally constipated with severe PTSD that he hides with amazing skill to the point as long as he doesn't seek therapy no one knows the truth outside of those in the unit and his mate Calico.  Married to Trent Odell Connelly, since neither of them exists it's not considered an issue among the officials, they are still effective and truly The Unit itself does not conform to military regulation due to the fact each of the members is of supernatural origin.  Known for giving his men nicknames, with the exception of Trent.

Trent Odell Connelly - Vampire - The old man of the unit but her certainly does not always act it.  Often participating in pranks with James despite some of them resulting in the backfiring on the vampire himself.  Only member left from the formation of the unit during the American Revolution. Married To Sarge. Second in command with an expert knowledge that spans over 15 centuries of life including weapons training, strategy, diplomacy and much more.  Loyal as they come but holds a warrior soul with a strict devotion to family and his brother’s in arms and belief in honor.

Joseph “DOG BREATH” Rico Hernandez - Lycan - Heavy Artillery Specials and Insane Combat Drive.  He’s the madman behind the wheel and you really don’t want him to mess up when he’s driving. “Just stop talking he will kill us all, Rough Ryder.”  Actually, a very strong believer in non-violence but also not willing to stand by and watch others fight for their country or defend the lives of others without stepping in.  Loyal to the core and willing to die for his brothers without hesitation.

Second Row - Left To Right

James “MADMAN” Jacobson - Fire Elemental - There is something seriously wrong in his fucking head.  Known for blowing himself up on purpose just to see the effects of a new explosive James has some issues but they don't’ just extend to himself.  Anger him and he will gladly roast every fucker who pissed him off and dance in the flames while he listens to the melody of their screams and laughs the entire time.  (Yes he’s the crazy dude who laughs psychotically when angry.) A diagnosed Pyromaniac (Discovered after a mishap involving Trent getting blown to shit by what was honestly a mistake but it required some investigation due to the severity)  He is truly a sweet man though who loves to laugh and will pull pranks on anyone including himself to see people smile. Explosives are his niche and he won’t let you forget that.

Shane  “LAZY ASS” Jericho Tein - Earth Elemental - The alias says it all.  He’s lazy as fuck. Albeit he can be motivated if you know the buttons to push.  He comes across as disinterested in the world and everything going on but it’s in effect a wall he structures for himself during childhood.  His lazy nature likely is linked to his species and like the Earth when he does reach a certain point all hell breaks loose and then he settles down like nothing happened.  Sarge is very much the man who coined how to motivate him after he chose the Marine Corps over Juvenile Detention for hot-wiring a car so he could get away from a street gang he owed money to in Hell’s Kitchen, New York and it certainly ended up with plenty of times that the demon was nearly knocked unconscious by flying boulders but hey it worked.  Mated to Bruce Hammond. He’s a heavy hitter when he needs to be but he’s quite skilled as a marksman, often taking the high ground and picking off targets rather than hitting the enemy up close and personal. A fairly skilled sniper in the end.

Bruce “ROUGH RIDER” Tyler Hammond - Animal Shifter - Capable of taking the form of any animal he meets in person after the first introduction is great but it comes with a consequence.  A libido that does not quit. And perhaps this would cause problems given the fact he is mated to someone and has no intent on slowing down but Shane seems to be understanding of the fact he needs a female and as long as he’s the only man in the shifter’s life he’s happy to live knowing the women he’s with are nothing to the shifter in the end.  Though this has resulted in several oopsie babies and there are likely plenty more. Despite this Bruce is an animal lover who grew up on a Ranch and their Corpsman. He may be all play when he’s not got a patient but he sure as hell has no issue setting to the task of saving lives if that’s what he needs to do. He’s a born healer and will even try and get Sarge to make Joey stop so he can take care of that injured dog over there.

The Many Faces Of Connor Brian Connelly

You all know about the giant teddy bear with a sniper rifle who now stands as Master Gunner for The Flying Dutchman.  Well, people don’t exactly know the full story or the extent of who Connor truly is. Outside of the sweet man most know are two other sides and one of them is not so nice.

From Left To Right

ConCon - That sweet giant with a heart of gold.  This is likely what most people know. He tends to be a bit more reserved but when he trusts someone who can be very loud and friendly.  But everyone knows ConCon is just a giant teddy bear who wants a hug. He loves sweets, family and just being a goofy man.

Gunnery Sergeant Connelly - The side most of the military knows and is happy to speak of.  A sniper with amazing skill and record book holder for longest distance for a confirmed kill shot (5 Miles out) without a scope.  (Comes in handy to be the son of a vampire and human woman.) There is an actual story behind this image itself. During a mission in 2006 in Iraq, his unit’s convoy was hit by an IED.  Every member was killed aside from Connor. If it wasn’t enough to see the mangled bodies of his brothers in arms the breaking point for the dhampir was the body of a young child fused the Humvee after being used to stop the convoy.  Three days after the lost contact the search team out find a bloodied Connor, exhausted but having taken care of the bodies of his brothers in arms as best he could so they could be returned to their family, making a makeshift memories for the child and the bodies of 20 hostiles who had attempted to overtake the village they were en route to during after the convoy was destroyed.  He was severely injured in the blast but had managed to fight through the pain, massive shrapnel damage to his body that he had yet to remove and was sitting there as though he was enjoying the pain he was in without a doubt. The image itself is based on the funeral held for his fellow Marines and the guilt he still feels for surviving.

The Hound - The myth of The Hound is spread widely through the Marines.  And despite being common scuttlebutt no one believes the stories. Claimed as simple scuttlebutt and urban myth/. Three months after the IED that killed his brothers in arms the rumors began.  A man who was sent in to take out those who no one else could. To take care of problems that the Military could not afford to lose lives on. And in truth, The Hound and Gunnery Sergeant Connelly are on in the same man.  But they exist in different worlds. The Hound is a myth, a rumor. The Gunnery Sergeant Connelly? After the incident, the Lance Corporal jumped ranks suddenly. It was assumed due to heroism in the line of duty and going above and beyond the call and that is exactly what The Hound’s handlers want everyone to believe.  For the two to exist separately. To let the hero and legend remain tangible while the horrible myth of a one-man force capable of killing anyone and anything in his path and coined with his code name as a reminder that once he has the scent he will hunt you down and take you out. A vast difference from the disciplined soul of the Gunnery Sergeant or the gentle giant everyone stateside knows. Disclaimer: I know there will be some errors for all you military personnel, I do try to do my research but this is a work of fiction so be aware of this.  I am always researching and learning however and if I catch errors I do make attempts to edit them.  I do know a lot of their designs are not acceptable to military dresscode but this is fiction and I did have them adapt during any time they are deployed.

[walkthroughtheword]

Reading for August 18th              Judges 12 & 13

CHAPTER TWELVE As if the story hasn’t unraveled enough, now the tribes who did not respond to Jephthah’s original call to arms are offended, insult the army and its commander and threaten him physically.  Jephthah isn’t as diplomatic as Gideon had been in the same situation and attacks them with a preemptive strike.  Israel is again fighting itself.  The Spirit does not rest upon Jephthah this time, and still he takes up arms against his own people and 42,000 are killed in the shallows of the Jordan River.  It is the covenant made to Abraham in reverse. And Israel, further weakened in both conquest and covenant, takes another turn and is one rotation closer to the bottom of the drain. The chapter closes with three more judges introduced who seem to be of little consequence.  None are military delivers.  Note that with all four judges mentioned in this chapter, Israel does not enter a time of peace in their lifetimes.  Clearly, wins are not coming very often.  Something drastic needs to happen if salvation history is to stay on-line.  And tomorrow we meet that something drastic!

CHAPTER THIRTEEN Judges opens to the optimism of the preceding book of Joshua.  In the first chapter it is reported that Judah captured the Mediterranean southern coastal cities of Gaza, Ashkelon and Ekron along with the surrounding territories.  Then around 1175 B.C. the game begins to change.  A Phoenician people group from the Aegean Sea called the Philistines colonized along the southern Mediterranean Coastline and quickly drove the Israelites and Canaanites out of the principle cities and introduce a dynamic urbanized culture based upon trade.  We know little about this people group other than they got really powerful, really quickly (historically speaking) and the only history we have of them was written by their enemies.  The Philistines now occupied most of the southwest coastal land given by Joshua to the tribe of Dan and none of the other tribes of Israel are inclined to offer assistance. Let’s juxtapose two very different cultures: ISRAELITES 1.     Religion: Monotheistic, unaccommodating and moral 2.     Economy: Rural Farmers 3.     Military: Low Tech Army 4.     Politics: Decentralized leaders 5.     Logistics: Prized the inland valleys 6.     Objective: Control entire land of Israel PHILISTINES 1.     Religion: Polytheistic, accommodating and erotic 2.     Economy: Urban Traders 3.     Military: High Tech Army 4.     Politics: Centralized leadership 5.     Prized: Prized the coastal ports and plains 6.     Objective: Control southern Israel trade routes Now two very different people groups with mutually exclusive long term objectives are living within twenty miles of each other and each has their eyes upon the land upon which the others are living.  A militarily divided and thoroughly stalled Israel is suddenly bordered with an emerging power that already defeated the Hittites and fought Egypt to a draw.  The Philistines, now firmly in control of the coast, seek to control the inland trade routes and the Israelites are in their way.  Here is what you need to know: Israel does not stand a chance of defeating the Philistines with traditional warfare. To buy them time, God raises up a one man wrecking crew named Samson.  Samson is severely flawed but has one single quality and one single gift that sets him apart from every other man in Israel.  He is not afraid of the Philistines and when the Spirit comes upon him he is the strongest man on the earth.  He is an army of one, possesses a unique skill set and singlehandedly keeps the Philistines at bay for his lifetime.  His antics, mortal flaws and his love life are the stuff of legend but his purpose as a Judge of Israel is that of buying time for Israel to unite under a king to defeat a mortal enemy. 13 V. 1 Again Israel did what was evil in the site of the Lord and they were handed over to the Philistines for forty years This is the last time we will hear this line in Judges because the people never really again turn away from doing evil in the sight of the Lord.  The forty years of oppression are the longest in Judges and the Samson chronicles probably occurred in the 1100-1075 B.C. range.  This is the point we normally read that the people cried out to the Lord but here is no cry to the Lord.  Things seem too far gone for even that; it appears the people have given up on God and given up on themselves.  God seemingly has no one and nothing to work with to slow down the Philistine incursion…but wait there is this one guy. V. 2-3 A man from the tribe of Dan named Manoah and his wife were unable to have children when an angel of the Lord proclaimed that they would have a son The Clan of Dan is not a major player in the roaring B.C.’s.  In fact, they don’t seem very “Israelite(ish) at all due to their coastal way of life.  They are the thing that is not like the others and share more in common with other Mediterranean coastal people than they do their own kinsmen.  They seem to suddenly be an endangered species so God focuses on the family of Manoah.   Like so many other Biblical stories, the parents of the emerging champion are barren until God speaks into their situation.   The Hebrew denotes that the angel could be an earthly or heavenly messenger but the message is from Yahweh (God). V. 4-5 Manoah’s wife was instructed not to drink wine or any other alcoholic drink and to eat only Kosher food and when the son was born she was not to cut his hair, he would become a Nazarite and would set into motion Israel’s deliverance We know from Numbers 6 that Nazarites not only refrained from alcohol but from grapes as a whole and ate super clean on the Kosher side.  They were a people “set apart” to keep the pure faith.  And then there was the hair.  The Israelites and the Philistines had very different senses of style.  The final point is that Samson, unlike the other Judges, will not defeat the Philistines or drive them off the land promised to Dan, rather he will keep the Philistines from driving out and defeating Israel.

[its-ness-ness]

Final Fantasy Games in One Timeline: Some Thoughts

Hi, my name’s Nessa, I have no social life, and I’ve been working on the above theory for going on two years now. I’ve seen some theories on some Final Fantasy games taking place in similar timelines, and a few even being on the same timeline. BUT if you’re interested in an attempt at squashing all of the mainstream games into just one (1) timeline, some handwritten folklore, and too many characters to keep track of, then come on in. These are the bare basics for now, because I haven’t gone in-depth with all of the games yet, and this is the first time I’ve put this theory out there. I openly welcome any critiques and comments you may throw my way! 

If you’re interested, here’s what I’ve thrown together:

IN GENERAL:

Though this is one cohesive timeline, I don’t have any exact dates to put on things. Whether it’s one hundred or ten years between games, I believe, depends on how far you’re willing to suspend your disbelief. (I mean, look at our own advances from the 1920s to the 1950s - completely different fashion, atmospheres, and developments.) That being said, this timeline does rely on the fact that the games would be close enough together to have their stories, ideas, and lessons passed on to the next game. How long that takes, though, is up to you. 

For everyone following along at home, we’re going to go in this order - 

1 / 5 / 3 / 2 / 4 / 9 / 12 / 6 / 15 / 13 / 10 / 7 / 8

Let’s start, then, beginning with:

FINAL FANTASY I (1):

How could we start this timeline with anything else? Of course, this game exists in our timeline here as more of a legend and creation myth than anything real. This is the basis for our world, whether it really happened or not, and in some parts of this world, I like to believe that the unnamed Warriors of Light may have even been worshipped as god-like figures.

V (5)

5 is, at least for me, where this timeline really starts. From what I gathered, 5 has more open space, uninhabited, and quite a bit of monster and nature-made ruin. Only the barest civilization would allow for this. The clothing and atmosphere both stay strictly fantasy, and as a result there isn’t much actual technology in the world yet. The job class system reflects a world relying on people and their natural skills; a place just beginning. Thus, this is where our world starts out.

III (3)

Like 5 before it, 3 holds a lot of the same fantasy elements, but we start experimenting with great technology and use of magic. The world has become a touch less wild, so to speak, and those rural fantasy elements have grown into patches of true civilization here and there. These people have seen evil defeated once before, and they’re stronger because of it.

II (2)

Our fantasy world has developed corruption, folks, and these comfortable palace landscapes now foster a rebellion. We’re starting to armor up our characters with more than just a tunic and a dream, and Firion and his friends have past heroes to look up to and inspire hope from. We see more refined magic use and more airships and metal works in this game. The kingdoms established have had time to prosper, and those in the rebellion have had time to form a secret coalition together against the Emperor.  (It should be noted that these first three games I know much less than those to follow, and may be swapped around in later drafts. For now, though, I feel like these fit nicely where they stand currently.)

IV (4)

We’ve hit advanced-fantasy in terms of aesthetic with this one. 4 holds much more tech than its predecessors, and we have boats, ships, and gliders. The crystals worshipped in past games’ lore still remain important to the story. Communication has advanced as well, and we see the first beginnings of other races - most notably, the Lunarians and the Gnomes underground. Those separate civilizations have had time to prosper over the past 3 games, and are now joining the narrative. This game uses advanced magic, and mages and summoners have been able to let their own cities prosper as well. We see more and more kingdoms and larger towns popping up than in previous games, and the world is doing well.

IX (9)

More steampunk technology is entering the picture now. While we remain high-fantasy, airship use has peaked, along with other daily mechanisms. The summoners from the last game are the same civilization that produced Garnet and Eiko, and the Lunarians from 4 are the ones who, upon going to sleep, built Garland to create their vessels - and, therefore, Kuja and Zidane. More animal species are developing in this game, as seen in most cities, and though the kingdoms are much, much larger than in 4, there are still parts of the world left untouched. Something about this fantasy still feels very rustic in comparison to the technology that will come later in this timeline, but most of what 9 presents feels very new in its own world. They have reached their peak development at their present state, and are still producing more and more. Magic use has disappeared from the public and become exclusive to summoners and the mages made by Kuja.

XII (12)

We’ve continued along the steampunk technology route, but we’ve gotten a little more urban now. Kingdoms are crowded enough to show the slums and underground cities that are a part of them now. We continue seeing different animal races in the present day, though they are less common and don’t receive the same rights and privileges as humans do, due to the royalty growing distinctly corrupt. Major magic use is no longer possible, though some simple spells are known exclusively on the battlefield. It’s not impossible to imagine that the royalty may in fact crack down on magicks sellers, in the way that witches were burned at the stake in our own time. Vayne, possibly loosely related to Alexandrian royalty, has the genetic potential to become a summoner, the power lost to most people in this time as the summoners are all but extinct. After the undoubtedly bad rep they gained by Kuja’s destructive magic use, they vanished into the separate world of the summons as a matter of safety. It’s this knowledge that he is so close to doing so and yet cannot that drives him near-mad with want in his drive for power.

VI (6)

High fantasy has now become cyberpunk, everyone. Technology went through the rough since the last game’s plot, and while we still feel very fantasy, we’re also starting to see more of that urban development in the kingdom areas. Magic is used only by the government and military (see: Celes and Terra both have good hands in magic versus the rest of the party), and summoners and their summons exist on the separate plane Terra comes from. Street rats and everyday people are the heroes of this installment, as in the last one, and the not-so-reformed royalty from last game have dipped more into forbidden science and forcibly enslaving soldiers. (That’ll come more into play later.) Vaan and Balthier partner up and initially form The Returners, which develops over time from sky pirate gang to resistance coalition. For one of the first times, we see a villain rise from a regular citizen who gained true god-like powers that the people of this world had never touched before. True destruction is tasted for the first time, but this is quickly remedied when things are set right.

XV (15)

Technology has developed and become more up-to-date here. Royalty still exists, but everything has become more smooth, refined, and modern. Upon Terra’s death, she sent a handful of summons to guard the world in her absence, thus creating the presence of the Six main summons in-game. She would go on to pass her secrets to one select person, an Oracle, who would hand that knowledge down over time and possess the secret to harnessing those summons, should the world ever need it. Hey, corrupt military government, good to see you’re still around, too. (That won’t go away for a while, trust me.) Magic use is still held only by royalty and the military here, and not in public life.

XIII (13)

After the death of the party from 15, Gareth Dysley enters the picture as a corrupt minister. The PSIICOM and Sanctum Guards are created, and the world develops from there. Technology gets more futuristic than ever before. We see government corruption taken to the highest degree. Fal’cie are mistaken for familiars of the original Six summons, and that’s why the public trusts them so much. (Here’s where things get a little strange, because I still have to revisit 13 and wrap my head around the events here. FOR NOW, the world we’ve been living on this entire timeline is Cocoon. Pulse is a separate planet in orbit that becomes victimized, rather than moving everyone from world one to another artificial planet. This may be subject to change.)  

X (10)

That whole the-government-lies thing sticks around to this fantasy. Zanarkand is the first city created by Cocoon citizens on Pulse, but is quickly destroyed by the emergence of Sin, a bitter creation by the dying Fal’cie (the false, artificial summons, if you will) in an attempt to exact revenge, and still produce the death count desired in 13 to see their initial Maker. The true summons, those present from the beginning and granted to the Oracle by Terra, still exist in the other plane of summons, and wait to be called upon by summoners. These summoners are trained by the church of Yevon in order to seemingly destroy Sin, though they themselves do not know the answer to its defeat. Since this game consists of civilization starting anew, we see less of the destroyed technology, and instead a fresh, mystical fantasy story as we begin again on Pulse, rather than the timeline on Cocoon above. When the pillar breaks and Cocoon finally crashes into Pulse, the Calm Lands are created.

VII (7)

The world re-adopts technology after the fall of Yevon, and advances much more quickly than they had before. They already have the tools and power available, and refine that now that people are allowed to develop. We spring into a second urban fantasy, which flourishes after the Shinra corporation develops a way to tap into the Farplane (now called the Lifestream, as harnessing it has put it in motion versus its stagnant state before.) For protection, SOLDIER is created based on renewed ideals of the Magitek Knights in 6, though the recklessly-tapping-into-science thing comes back to bite them in the ass. This game’s small, sleepy cities are the first rustic results of villages coming back together after the events of 10.

VIII (8)

Science has now gone through the roof. Esthar is the hub of futuristic science and technology, and the evidence of that is everywhere. Modern cars and trains are back, and magic use is allowed by SeeD students in a draw system (a more accessible update to the materia system used prior). Summons are technologically copied to allow all students access to their powers, though what happened to the origin of these powers is currently unknown. The cost of this copying system was that the summons (GFs) needed a way to root themselves to existence - thus tampering with student’s memories in an effort to plant themselves there. SeeD is a revamped SOLDIER program, and many towns in this game bear resemblances to towns in the last game. Time and space are now on the forefront of technology, and magic has taken a step back (in terms of relevance) in comparison. The heroes here pave the way for a brighter future, as this world advances, learns more, and betters itself.

And those are the basics!

I have plenty more revolving around the above timeline - how it’s connected, who goes where and does what, and the way that things develop. Should anyone be interested in more, I’d be more than happy to elaborate! 

[geimei]

Hi. Could you please tell us a bit more about the musical instruments only taught in Miyagawacho like biwa, kokyu and koto? Who teach them to geiko and maiko? The same teachers who teach the Tayu? There are some photos of recitals of geimaiko playing those instruments and I love it, specially koto. Thanks for your beautiful work.

The istruments stemming from Oiran-tradition that is still taught in Miyagawacho are the koto and the kokyū, the biwa is not taught there. They all are, however, still studied by Tayū today. Miyagawacho is the only kagai in Japan that still teaches the kokyū.

The Oiran and the Tayūstudied and the latter still studied, the arts of the nobility, which include but are not limited to koto and biwa, while the Geisha studied and still study the arts of the common people, which include but are not limited to nagauta, shamisen and kabuki.

As for who teaches the Geiko and Maiko of Miyagawacho in the playing of the koto, I’m not sure, and I also don’t know if they are the same teachers who teach the koto to the Tayūor who the Tayūlearn it from. Maybe someone else can answer this question, I’m not very well-versed in that area.

The koto is often called the “Japanese harp” in the west, as the sound and construction are somewhat comparable. The koto belongs to the zithers, which are stringed instruments consisting of one or several strings stretched over the instrument’s body, which also functions as a soundbox, or has a soundbox attached to it. Usually, the word zither is used to refer to three specific groups of instruments, the chord, concert and alpine zithers, which can be found in Slovenia, Austria, Hungary, France, north-western Croatio, southern Germany and generally alpine Europe.

The koto is based on the Chinese guzheng and is an important part of traditional Japanese court music, called gagaku. It was introduced to Japan from China during the Nara-period (710-793) and soon started gaining popularity. It was already mentioned in the Genji Monogatari, which was written in the late 10th or early 11th century and is widely regarded as the oldest fictional novel of the world, due to its high popularity amongst members of the nobility.

The average koto is 1,80 meters wide and 25 centimeters wide, hollow and made of paulownia wood. The 13 strings were traditionally made of silk, but today they are usually made of nylon or teflon, because they last longer and almost sound the same.

The instrument’s body is curved upwards, has two sound-holes and two small bridges over which the 13 strings are stretched. All strings have the same tautness to them and are stretched over 13 moveable bridges called ji. By moving the ji, the different sounds can be adjusted or changed while playing. The ji used to be made of rose wood or even ivory, but today, usually several kinds of plastic are used.

For each part of the koto, there is a mythological description, where the koto is compared to a dragon. The upper back of the koto is the “dragon’s shell” (竜甲, ryūko), the lower part is the “dragon’s stomach” (竜腹, ryūhara), the back part is the “dragon’s tail”(竜尾, ryūbi), the front bridge the “dragon’s horns” (竜角, ryūkaku) and the rear bridge “the seat of the angels/cloud horns” (雲角, kumokaku), alluding to the clouds above the dragon’s horns.

The koto is played either kneeling at the ground or sitting using wooden legs. The strings are plucked using the right hand sitting at the right end using claw-like plectrums called “tsume” (爪, “claw”, “fingernail”) that are worn like rings on the fingers. Tsume are can be made several materials, for example of ivory with rings made of bamboo, but alo completely made of plastic. The left hand can be used to make sound-effects, pluck strings or lower the sounds by a half or one full note by pressing the strings down.

There are two main koto-schools, the Ikuta and the Yamada School. They use different plectrums - the Yamada School uses fingernail-like plectrums and the Ikuta School uses square plectrums - and there are differences in the way of playing, and the Ikuta School focuses on vocal accompaniment to the playing of the koto.

Instruments related to the koto are the Chinese guzheng, the Korean gayageum, the Vietnamese đàn tranh and the Mongolian yatga. One of the most famous pieces composed for the koto is Rokudan No Shirabe, composed byYatsuhashi Kengyō. You can listen to it here.

The kokyū is a traditional Japanese string-instrument, but the only one played with a bow. It was introduced to Japan from China in the 17th century, but the sound, shape and cosntruction are unique to Japan. The kokyū has a uniquely Okinawan version called thekūchō (胡弓 くーちょー)in the Okinawan language. The kokyūis often called “the Japanese violin” in the west, as both of these instruments are played using a bow.

The kokyū looks quite similar to the shamisen, at first sight, it looks like a smaller version of the shamisen. It’s 70 centimeters tall, and its neck is made of ebony, its hollow body is made of coconut or styrax japonica wood and is covered on both ends with catskin (the kūchō is covered with snakesin). It has three, or sometimes four, strings and is played upright while kneeling with a horsetail-strung bow.

The kokyū used to be an important part of the sankyoku ensemble, consisting koto, shamisen and kokyū, that was the most popular in central Japan, but since the 20th century the kokyūhas often been replaced by the shakuhachi.

Shinei Matayoshi, a kokyūand sanshin (the Okinawan predecessor of the shamisen) musician and sanshin maker, invented a four-stringed version of the kokyūto expand its range, it has become much more popular again.

The kokyū is similar to two Chinese lutes that are also played with a bow: The leiqin and the zhuihu. In Japanese, the term kokyū can refer to any Asian string instrument played with a bow, as does the Chinese term huqin. That’s why the Chinese erhu, which is also used by some performers in Japan, is sometimes called a kokyū, along with the kūchō, leiqin, and zhuihu. The specific Japanese name for erhu is niko.

Here you can listen to th song “Kurokami“ being performed by a shamisen-player and a kokyū-player.

The biwa (琵琶) is a short-necked, fretted lute that came to Japan from China in the 7th century and has its origins in the Chinese instrument pipa. They usually have four strings, but the modernsatsuma and chikuzen biwas can also have five strings. There are more than 7 types of biwa. The biwa is the instrument of Benzaiten/Benten (弁才天, 弁財天), a Bhuddist goddess, who originated from the Hindu goddess Saraswati. She is thegoddess of music, eloquence, poetry, and education inShinto.

The type of biwa that was developed in the the 7th century is called gaku-biwa and is used in gagaku, traditional Japanese court music. It’s also the most common and well-known type of biwa.

Through an unknown route, another type of biwa found its way to the Kyushu region around the same time, and this thin biwa (called mōsō-biwa or kōjin-biwa) was used in ceremonies and religious rites.

Then, as the Ritsuryō state collapsed, the court music musicians playing the gaku-biwa were faced with the reconstruction of the country and sought asylum in Buddhist temples. There, they became Buddhist monks and encountered the mōsō-biwa. They incorporated the convenient aspects of mōsō-biwa, mostly its small size and portability, into their large and heavy gaku-biwa, and created the heike-biwa, which was used primarily for recitations of The Tale of the Heike.It kept the rounded shape of the gaku-biwa and was played with a large plectrum like the mōsō-biwa. As said above, the heike-biwa was also small, like the mōsō-biwa and was used for similar purposes.

Through the next several centuries, players of both instrumentsintersected often and developed new music styles and new types of biwa. By the Kamakura period (1185–1333), the heike-biwa had become a popular instrument.

The modern satsuma-biwa and chikuzen-biwa both originated in mōsō-biwa, but the Satsuma biwa was used for moral and mental training by samurai of the Satsuma Domain during the Warring States period, and later in general performances. The Chikuzen biwa was used by Buddhist monks visiting private residences to perform memorial services, but also for telling entertaining stories and news while accompanying themselves on the biwa, and this form of storytelling was thought to be spread in this way. This is why the biwa’s most popular use today is still to accompany narrative storytelling.

There wasn’t much written about the biwa from the 16th century to the mid-19th century. It is known, however, that three main streams of biwa emerged during that time: zato (the lowest level of the state-controlled guild of blind biwa players), shifu (samurai style), and chofu (urban style). These styles called biwa-uta (琵琶歌, vocalization with biwa accompaniment) formed the foundation for edo-uta styles (江戸歌) like shinnai and kota.

From these styles also emerged the two main survivors of the biwa tradition: satsuma-biwa and chikuzen-biwa, which are still the most popular kind of biwa today. From the Meiji Era (1868–1912) until the Pacific War, the satsuma-biwa and chikuzen-biwa were popular across Japan, and at the beginning of the Showa Era (1925–1989), the nishiki-biwa was created and gained popularity. Of the remaining biwa traditions, only higo-biwa remains a style almost exclusively performed by blind people. The higo-biwa is closely related to the heike-biwa and mainly relies on an oral-narrative tradition focusing on wars and legends.

Here’s a list of the types of biwa, which differ in their number of strings, sounds it can produce and plectrums they are played with:

The Gagaku-biwa (雅楽琵琶) or Gaku-biwa (楽琵琶): The most common and widely known biwa to this day. It’s large and heavy with four strings and four frets and is used exclusively for gagaku. The plectrum used with it is small and thin, often rounded, and made from a hard material such as boxwood or even ivory. It is not used to accompany singing. It’s played held on its side, similar to a guitar, and the player sits cross-legged.

Gogen-biwa (五絃琵琶): This type of biwa was used for gagaku, but was removed with the reforms and standardizations made to the court orchestra during the late 10th Century, and died out around the same time. It also disappeared in Chinese court orchestras. Recently, this instrument has been revived for historically informed performances and historical reconstructions.

Mōsō-biwa (盲僧琵琶): This biwa has four strings and is used to play Buddhist mantra and songs. Its shape is similar to the chikuzen-biwa, but with a much more narrow body. Its plectrum varies in both size and materials.

The gaku-biwa, gogen-biwa andmōsō-biwa are summarized as the classic biwa.

Heike-biwa (平家琵琶): This biwa has four strings and five frets and is used almost exclusively to recite the Heike Monogatari. Its plectrum is slightly larger than that of the gagaku-biwa, but the instrument itself is much smaller. It was originally used by traveling biwa minstrels, as its small size made it practical for indoor play and traveling.

Satsuma-biwa (薩摩琵琶): A biwa with four strings and four frets made popular during the Edo Period in Kagoshima (which used to be Satsuma province hence the name) by Shimazu Nisshinsai. The frets of the Satsuma biwa are raised 4 centimeters from the neck allowing notes to be bent several steps higher, each one producing the instrument’s characteristic sawari, or buzzing drone sound. It’s played using a boxwood plectrum that is much wider than that of most others biwa, often reaching widths of 25 cm or more. Its size and construction influences the sound of the instrument as the curved body is often struck percussively with the plectrum during play. It’s usually made from Japanese mulberry, although other hard woods like Japanese zelkova are sometimes also used.The most famous 20th century performer was Tsuruta Kinshi, who developed her own version of the instrument, which she called the tsuruta-biwa. This biwa often has five strings (although it is essentially a 4-string instrument, because the 5th string is a doubled 4th and they are always played together) and five or more frets, and the construction of the tuning head and frets vary slightly. Ueda Junko and Tanaka Yukio, two of Tsuruta Kinshi’s students, continue the tradition of the modern Satsuma biwa.

The Heike-biwa and the Satsuma-biwa are summarized as the Edo-biwa.

Chikuzen-biwa (筑前琵琶): This biwa has four strings and four frets or five strings and five frets and was made popular in the Meiji Period by Tachibana Satosada. Today, most performers use the five string version. The plectrum it’s played with is usually made from rosewood with boxwood or ivory tips for plucking the strings and is much smaller than that of the Satsuma biwa, usually about 1 cm in width, although its size, shape, and weight depends on the sex of the player, as does the instrument’s size itself. Male players use slightly wider and/or longer chikuzen-biwas than those used by females or children. The body of the instrument is not struck with the plectrum during play, and the five string instrument is played upright, but the four-stringed one is played held on its side. The instrument is tuned to match the key of the singer. Asahikai and Tachibanakai are the two major schools of the chikuzen-biwa. It’s popularly used by female biwa players such as Uehara Mari.

Nishiki-biwa (錦琵琶):  A modern biwa with five strings and five frets popularized by Suitō Kinjō. The plectrum used with it is the same as the one used for the Satsuma biwa.

Although the biwa used to very popular for many hundreds of years, it was almost completely lost due to war and the ban of Todo, one of the instrument’s main group of patrons, and the rapid industrialization, modernization and westernization during the Meiji Period, and many biwa-schools and even entire types of biwa almost died out completely. Luckily, the biwa is being revived through both modern and traditional Japanese musicians.

Here you can listen to biwa-player Yoko Hiraoka playing “Gion Shojo” on the Chikuzen-biwa while also singing.

Sources: https://www.britannica.com, https://www.wikipedia.org (German and English), http://www.japanesestrings.com/instruments.html

[goliathbetagamer-blog]

The Walking Dead: Saints and Sinners Review

Imagine what would happen if you took a half-season of The Walking Dead TV show, mashed it together with a Deus Ex or System Shock style of exploration and decision-making, and then drizzled it with the best aspects of a modern VR game.

What you might end up with is a survival horror game that’s oppressively tense and brutal, but also tugs on you relentlessly to explore every corner of its post-apocalyptic world for hidden loot and nuggets of lore. The Walking Dead: Saints & Sinners is exactly that, and it absolutely nails the mix, delivering it with a level of detail and a depth of interactivity that feels like a genuine step forward for virtual reality.

You play as the Tourist, a storied survivor and living urban legend who seems to be immune to the fictional virus that makes everybody else a little bitier in The Walking Dead universe. You’ve rolled into the sunken remains of New Orleans following a rumor about a buried hotbed of limitless supplies called the Reserve, and the rest is up to you. It’s a simple setup, but one that's perfect for the size and scope of Saints & Sinners because it doesn’t immediately saddle you with any presumptions about your character’s morality.

You’re introduced to New Orleans by your old buddy Henri, but the moral choices you’ll make while navigating its several open-ended zones are yours alone. As an Obsidian fan, I was pleased to find that there were several major factions fighting for control of the Reserve, each with their own perspective on the bleak situation around you. One such moral choice involves a mission where a faction member will send you to rescue their brother in exchange for an important item, and it’s fantastic that you can then choose to upend the original mission and kill the brother, earning his captors as allies and instead taking the item by force – if that’s the path you prefer, of course. Saints & Sinners’ ending depends entirely on the decisions you make throughout the campaign too, few of which are decidedly ‘good’ or ‘evil’.

All that choice makes the Tourist primarily a shell for you to insert your own personality into, with decent voice acting that gives life to each dialogue option, much like Commander Shepard in the Mass Effect series. By comparison, Telltale’s The Walking Dead accomplished some truly great feats of cinematic storytelling and meaningful decision-making in its hostile and zombie-riddled world, but it never gave me free rein to do whatever I wanted. That’s something I had craved for years when I was a regular watcher of The Walking Dead TV series, and while Telltale’s take on The Walking Dead certainly made me care about Clementine, it never made me feel like I was in that world.

Saints & Sinners scratches the itch for a truly explorable Walking Dead world with the grace and confidence of a well-lubricated bowie knife

Saints & Sinners scratches that itch with the grace and confidence of a well-lubricated bowie knife. The portrayal of killing zombies – or walkers – has never been as satisfying as it is here, and the abject terror of an unexpected walker swarm has never been as palpable. Zombie guts and brains are rendered with great detail, but what really grounds you in this world is the fact that weapons have appropriate weight and heft. Heavy weapons like axes and rifles require you to grip them with both hands for stability, while small weapons like shivs are much lighter and easier to land precise blows with. It’s not as nuanced as a game like Boneworks; you can’t wield just any item as a weapon, but this combat system is far more tactile and exciting than if you were doing it remotely with a gamepad or a keyboard.

Diseased walkers explode and unleash poisonous gases that lower your health pool when killed up close, meanwhile helmeted walkers are far tougher to kill, requiring a complete decapitation or extremely precise blows to exposed parts of their heads. This increased challenge only adds to the intensity of fighting an entire pack of walkers at once, a common occurrence later on, as you need to quickly pick and choose which walkers need to be killed in which way and in which order to preserve the durability of your best weapons. Rapidly juggling my inventory in real-time to acclimate to each fight forced me to be smarter and, as a result, Saints & Sinners never fell into that Action-RPG trap of becoming repetitive. I spent a little over 18 hours in the campaign – the story itself is a few hours shorter than that, but it was just loads of fun to complete scavenging runs and hunt for secret recipes on my own.

The walkers and human NPCs themselves have their own agendas too, often interacting with one another in interesting and useful ways. While the AI isn’t always the most bright, causing enemies to sometimes get stuck in hilarious and vulnerable positions, an impressive amount of the unfurling drama that makes Saints & Sinners exciting is simulated in real-time rather than deliberately scripted. To my satisfaction, I found that many of the quests allowed me to choose my own path to a solution, and it was a delight to discover alternate routes and secrets, even if the map can feel a little nondescript or claustrophobic at times. Even when I was presented with straightforward options for moving through a group of wary human NPCs or solving a quest with diplomacy – or simply by attacking an NPC directly – I could just as easily avoid interacting with certain characters altogether, either by attracting a herd of walkers and sneaking past the ensuing carnage, or by climbing over the side of a wall or up the side of a house. That freedom to tackle a situation so many different ways is fantastic.

And though the bigger story about breaking into the Reserve can sometimes feel pretty thin between long periods of exploring, looting, killing, and crafting my way through the streets of New Orleans, it was refreshing for a VR game to let me define my character through my own decisions in a setting as meticulously detailed and open-ended as this. While Saints & Sinners isn’t exactly the first of its kind, this caliber of storytelling reaches a height that VR had otherwise yet to achieve.

Zombalaya

Central to the tension of Saints & Sinners is that you only get so much time each day to do things before the city’s bells are rung and the streets flood with ravenous corpses. Once you head back to safety you can go to sleep and skip to the next morning, but the number of undead you encounter the following day increases. This creates a compelling risk-reward choice between pushing your luck past dark or playing it safe at the cost of worse odds tomorrow, driving the tension of the entire game.

That dilemma would be perfectly manageable if not for the fact that you only have a limited amount of inventory space, pushing you to think more carefully about what you grab. You also have to continue crafting or finding new weapons as your old ones tend to fall apart at a distressingly high rate. That forces you to make each attack count, which is easier said than done since you actually have to swing and aim with your real-world appendages. With a ticking clock looming behind all that, Saints & Sinners quickly becomes the perfect storm for adrenaline junkies.

Luckily, the inventory management is intuitive and feels great. Picking up items and placing them into your backpack is as simple as throwing them over your shoulder, and to access them again you simply grab the pack off of your back and pull items out of their neatly arranged slots. Meanwhile, weapons can be holstered in convenient slots on your waist and back while your journal and flashlight fit snugly on your chest. This style of physical inventory management has existed in VR games like Rec Room and Township Tale for some time, and it’s far more interactive and interesting than simply tapping on a menu screen with your fingers or pointing at some text with a laser pointer.

This is the perfect formula for some of the most terrifying moments I’ve had in a VR headset

Limited stamina is also a worry. Running out of stamina makes you slow and unable to swing, aim, or run away, meaning it’s all the more critical to land each and every blow with finesse. Likewise, having a strong weapon or beefed up stamina pool makes you feel satisfyingly powerful, but never so much that you can let your guard down, keeping combat engaging even as you get stronger.

If you do die to the shambling hordes, you’re forced to respawn at the start of the map while the day’s clock is still ticking, and you only get one chance to reclaim your inventory before it’s gone forever. As time wears on, high-quality supplies and weapons can become so difficult to find that scrounging up a broken bottleneck or screwdriver in the nick of time is sometimes the difference between life and death. This, mixed with the fact that your health and stamina pools are temporarily decreased when you die, is a perfect formula for some of the most terrifying moments I’ve had in a VR headset – but that terror was met with an equal amount of satisfaction if I could make it back to my loot and come out alive after.

It is disappointing that character progression is fairly linear, with only a few tech trees to branch into – Gear, Guns, and Survival – and no mutual exclusivity between them. There’s nothing stopping you from unlocking every possible upgrade at the crafting stations in short order, just as long as you can find the right components from scrapping items you find in the world, similar to Fallout 4. It’s plenty of fun to use newfound upgrades like the Nail Bomb and the Grass Cutter, and there are some recipes that you first have to uncover the hidden nooks and crannies of New Orleans to find, but it’s too bad that there’s no real way to personalize your Tourist beyond the story choices you make.

Verdict

The Walking Dead: Saints & Sinners is a noteworthy step forward for VR gaming, proving that a Deus Ex-like Action-RPG can feel right at home in a headset. Every one of its many interwoven systems clearly has a level of thought and care behind it, swirling survival horror and roleplaying staples together with nuance. Even though character customization can feel limited and the story is a bit short, The Walking Dead: Saints & Sinners is a fantastic example of what VR can be.

Developer: Skydance Interactive

Publisher: Skydance Interactive

Release: DateJanuary 23, 2020

Platforms: PC, PlayStation 4

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