#the symbolism of Scion's powers and aesthetic

[artbyblastweave]

One additional thing about Scion that I find interesting is that he isn’t exempt from the ironic monkeys paw logic governing the Worm power system. His stilling ability outwardly imposes order and resolves problems, but it does so by canceling out everything- all forms of energy, molecular activity, power expression, all perfectly countered and evened out to a null state. In other words, it’s applied entropy, creating heat death in miniature. Scion’s main day-to-day problem solving tool is quietly a minute acceleration of the One Big Problem he and the other Entities are so desperately trying to outrun. Solve the problem in front of you, shorten the rope elsewhere. He can’t create with it; he can only damage things in an agreeable way. And it looks angelic. It looks helpful.

[toorumochi]

"𝕿𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖞: 𝕬 𝕻𝖎𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖊’𝖘 𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖊"

A Karushuu Pirate x Prince AU

@akabane-yum if you see this, no you didn’t.

In a world where royal lineage clashes with pirate rebellion, two unlikely souls are entangled in a web of fate. As ancient feuds simmer and alliances teeter on the brink of collapse, a prince and a pirate must navigate treacherous waters of love, loyalty and longing. Bound by destiny yet torn apart by circumstance, their story unfolds amidst a backdrop of adventure, danger and forbidden desire.

In a tale as old as time, Gakushuu Asano, a scion of a royal lineage, and Karma Akabane, born into the infamous ranks of a pirate clan, found themselves locked in a generations-old feud. Initially, their animosity towards each other ran deep, both harbouring a visceral disdain that seemed insurmountable. However, fate intervened one fateful day when their paths converged at a bustling port on a remote island.

Bound by a fragile truce enforced by the island's formidable locals, the families of Gakushuu and Karma were compelled to set aside their longstanding grievances. The imminent threat of the islanders' prowess in combat loomed large, serving as a deterrent against any acts of aggression between the warring factions.

It was amidst this uneasy peace that Gakushuu's perception of Karma underwent a profound transformation. Observing the pirate's striking resemblance to his father, the prince found himself inexplicably drawn to Karma's rugged charm and rebellious spirit. There was an undeniable allure to Karma's rough-edged exterior—a magnetism that stirred within Gakushuu an unexpected and tumultuous attraction. 

Karma Akabane, the son of the most powerful pirate captain known to roam the seven seas, at the mere age of 19, embodies the definitive pirate aesthetic with the weather-beaten tricorn hat, tilted daringly to one side, and decorated with a crimson feather. His once-pristine white shirt, now bearing the marks of countless battles, is adorned with faded embroidery and ragged sleeves, while a leather vest, weathered and worn, boasts brass buttons etched with intricate sea monster designs.

Burgundy trousers, rolled up at the cuffs, and a midnight-coloured coat with gleaming gold trim complete his ensemble. Multiple belts and sashes cinch his waist, each laden with pouches containing the tools and treasures of a true pirate, while beaded necklaces strung with seashells, pearls, and ancient coins adorn his neck. His fingers glitter with rings bearing emblems and gemstones, a symbol of his status and prowess.

Karma's bronzed, weathered skin, long crimson red hair cascading like molten gold, kohl-smudged eyes gleaming with mischief, and a grin revealing teeth as sharp as cutlasses, speak of a life lived on the edge of danger and adventure, with scars as souvenirs of battles fought and won, displaying strength and tenacity in the face of trouble.

As Gakushuu watches, he sees Karma's father laughing with him, playfully taking back the tricorn hat he had placed on Karma's head, revealing beneath it a bandana, a symbol of their legacy of piracy that runs deep within their bloodline.

 

One morning, Gakushuu spotted Karma snatching a handful of fruits from a stall before darting out of sight behind the nearby booths. He decided to follow him up until he couldn’t see him anymore. The streets were crowded so it was hard to see.

Suddenly someone grabbed him by the arm, pulling him somewhere. Gakushuu was ready to fight back, but the person put their hand on his mouth to keep him quiet.

It was Karma, who was calmly grinning and eating the stolen apple with one hand and with the other, he held Gakushuu in place. 

As Gakushuu's eyes widened in surprise, Karma's mischievous grin only grew wider. The two boys stood in a hidden alleyway, away from the bustling streets of the port. Gakushuu's heart raced, unsure of what Karma had planned.

"Shh," Karma whispered, removing his hand from Gakushuu's mouth. "I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't cause any trouble for our families. The locals here are no joke, and I don't want to risk any fights breaking out."

Gakushuu's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Why would you care about that? We've always been enemies, haven't we?"

Karma chuckled, taking another bite of the stolen apple. "Yeah, we have. But that doesn't mean I want to see you get hurt. Besides, it's more fun to mess with you when we're not fighting."

Gakushuu's cheeks flushed slightly at Karma's words, a mix of annoyance and intrigue swirling within him. He couldn't deny that something was captivating about the pirate's carefree attitude and rebellious nature.

"I don't need your protection," Gakushuu retorted, crossing his arms defiantly. "I can handle myself just fine."

Karma raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Oh, I know you can. But that doesn't mean I can't lend a hand now and then. Plus, it's not like I'm doing this out of the goodness of my heart. I just don't want any interruptions when I finally defeat you."

Gakushuu's lips curled into a smirk, a challenge gleaming in his eyes. "Defeat me? We'll see about that, pirate."

Karma's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I look forward to it, prince."

He released Gakushuu, who felt a subtle stirring of arousal, though he adamantly refused to acknowledge it.

Despite their families' long-standing feud, there was an undeniable spark between them. It was a connection that neither of them could fully understand, but one that seemed to draw them together despite the odds stacked against them.

As the days passed on the bustling island port, Gakushuu was unable to shake the memory of his encounter with Karma in the hidden alleyway. There was something about the pirate boy that intrigued him, something that stirred emotions within him that he had never experienced before.

Meanwhile, Karma couldn't seem to get Gakushuu out of his mind either. The image of the prince's defiant smirk and challenging gaze lingered in his thoughts, igniting a fire within him that he couldn't extinguish.

It was on one fateful evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, that their paths crossed once again.

Gakushuu was wandering the crowded streets of the port, lost in thought as he pondered the events of the past few days.

He had tried to push thoughts of Karma from his mind, to focus on his duties as a prince and the expectations placed upon him by his family, but the boy seemed to haunt his every waking moment.

Suddenly, he caught sight of a familiar figure up ahead, his heart skipping a beat as he realized who it was. Karma was once again standing at the edge of the bustling marketplace, his eyes scanning the crowd with a mischievous glint.

Without hesitation, Gakushuu made his way towards him, his footsteps quickening with each step. He wasn't sure what compelled him to seek out Karma, to seek out the very person who was supposed to be his enemy, but he couldn't deny the pull that drew him to the pirate boy like a magnet.

As he drew closer, Karma turned and spotted him, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Well, look who decided to grace me with their presence," he said, his voice laced with amusement.

Gakushuu rolled his eyes, trying to mask the fluttering feeling in his chest with a look of indifference. "Don't get too excited, pirate. I'm only here to make sure you're not causing any trouble, once again."

Karma chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest as he regarded Gakushuu with a playful glint in his eyes. "Ah, but where's the fun in that? Besides, I thought we already established that I’m up to nothing strange."

Gakushuu bristled at Karma's words, a surge of irritation coursing through him. "That doesn't mean I have to stand by and watch as you wreak havoc on this island."

Karma raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, so now you're concerned about the well-being of this island? How noble of you, prince."

Gakushuu scowled, his cheeks flushing with anger. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it for the people who call this place home, people who deserve better than to be caught in the crossfire of our family's feud."

For a moment, there was a flicker of something in Karma's eyes, a hint of vulnerability that took Gakushuu by surprise. But before he could dwell on it further, the moment passed and Karma's usual smirk returned, his mask firmly back in place.

"Well, aren't you just full of surprises, prince," Karma said, his tone teasing. "But enough talk. How about we make a deal? You let me go about my business, and I promise not to cause any trouble for your 'precious island'."

Gakushuu hesitated, torn between his duty as a prince and the strange connection he felt with Karma. In the end, curiosity won out, and he found himself nodding in agreement. 

"Fine," he said, his voice firm. "But don't think for a second that I'm letting my guard down around you, pirate. I'll be keeping a close eye on you."

Karma grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I wouldn't expect anything less, prince. After all, where's the fun in a little competition without a bit of tension?"

With that, he turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Gakushuu standing alone in the bustling marketplace. As he watched Karma go, a strange mixture of emotions washed over him, leaving him feeling both exhilarated and unnerved.

Amidst the longstanding rivalry between their families, their fathers found themselves ensconced in a local bar, their laughter and camaraderie echoing into the early hours of dusk. 

Gakushuu observed Karma from across the room, perched in a secluded corner, thoroughly entertained by the adoration of the town's girls. His charm was palpable, he even gifted one of his penknifes to one of the girls.

Gakushuu couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy—not for the girls themselves, but for Karma.

Meanwhile, amidst the joviality of the bar, a young sailor approached Gakushuu's table, his intent clear as he sought an opportunity to secure a position aboard Captain Asano's esteemed ship. Such a feat was no easy task, as the entire port was aware of the formidable challenge it presented.

Despite the sailor's persistent flattery, Gakushuu's attention wandered, inevitably drawn back to Karma's table. Their gazes met fleetingly before being interrupted by the sudden clamour of the girls surrounding Karma. With infectious laughter and playful tugs, they whisked him away towards a concealed doorway, leaving Gakushuu momentarily captivated by the sight.

As Karma disappeared into the throng of giggling girls, he threw a small wink in Gakushuu's direction—a gesture that sent a flurry of emotions coursing through him. Confusion mingled with excitement as Gakushuu grappled with the unfamiliar sensations stirring within him, unsure of what lay ahead in this unexpected entanglement with the enigmatic pirate.


As the night wore on, Gakushuu found himself unable to shake the image of Karma's mischievous grin and captivating presence. He couldn't understand why he was so drawn to someone from the enemy camp, someone who had caused him so much frustration and anger in the past.

Unable to resist the pull any longer, Gakushuu excused himself from the sailor and made his way towards the door Karma had disappeared behind. He pushed it open cautiously, unsure of what he would find on the other side.

—————————————————————————

You can continue reading the rest of this fanfic on my AO3 if you're interested!

[dailycharacteroption]

Worldbuilding Journal 1: part 5

Baphon Playable Ancestry

 The symbology of Baphomet, the goat-headed, hermaphroditic demon, has always been something that fascinated me. Originally the name was used to accuse the Knight Templars of blasphemy and devil-worship, but the image of Baphomet, and indeed the sabbatical goat, were later adapted by Eliphas Levi into a symbol of balance in all things. Human and beast, man and woman, and so on.

The history of being something the inquisition literally made up to have a reason to arrest and kill all the knight templars has all but been forgotten in the modern era, of course, and many lay-persons believe that the figure is a form of the capital-D Devil, or at the very least one of his minions. To those more knowledgeable, it has become something of a symbol of the occult in it’s various forms, with several different interpretations.

Like many such figures, the name was borrowed for D&D and later Pathfinder, though the D&D version is more of a brutal demigod of minotaurs, with little goat symbolism at all. The pathfinder version attempted to rectify this, citing a story of Baphomet being imprisoned by Asmodeus, wasting away and taking on a more goat-like form before escaping and taking the pentagram and the very maze he was imprisoned in as his own. Still lacking in the occult symbolism of the real-world version, but at least the aesthetics are closer, though he does gain a secretive, conspiratorial edge in this version too, no doubt a reference to occult secret societies.

 In any case, I told you all that so I could then tell you this: fiendish-goat-headed beings are definitely cool enough to be playable. As such, I have set out to make a playable ancestry (just first edition rules for now) out of them. Admittedly, one could use a tiefling or even an aasimar, but I wanted to try my hand at creating a unique species and integrating them into my world.

Originally an isolationist folk from the mountains of the island of High Myran off the western coast of Dothmund, the people that would come to be known as the Baphon were targeted by a bestial demon lord, who believed they could be raised into an army to help conquer the world of Lagun. As such, he sent his cult to corrupt them to his worship.

While they did make excellent soldiers, the baphon were much more interested in the body of mystical knowledge that the cult brought with them, which the cult permitted them access to in the hopes that such dark knowledge would corrupt them further. However, while some did become wicked servants of the cult, others simply absorbed their knowledge, and in the dark of night, set upon the cultists, killing most and driving away the rest.

The baphon did not come out of this unscathed, for while they were free and not bound to the will of a demon lord, occult energies from the rituals they had practiced had seeped into their bones, making them something more, and less, than mortal. However, they also could see that the time of isolation was at an end, for in their ignorance they had nearly become slaves. So while the elders and leaders of their kind still remain on High Myran and other settlements they have established, the young are often struck by wanderlust, seeking to explore and learn from the world, bringing back worldly and otherworldly knowledge to their kin.

 Appearance-wise, baphons resemble humanoid goat people with shaggy fur, though some baphon living in warmer climes have shorter or nonexistent fur on their torso. They also tend to have towering, outward-pointing horns, though some have short or curling horns. Many also possess birthmarks in the shape of occult symbols, or manifest tiny motes of flame or other supernatural phenomena when feeling intense emotions.

 Understanding is key to baphon culture as they collect and absorb information, however, their appearance and mild demonic taint makes establishing bonds with other races difficult sometimes, though they share a special kinship with changelings and tieflings, and to a lesser extend other planar scions and half-blooded peoples.

Though they share a connection with demons, only a small but significant fraction of baphons actually revere the dark powers, with most others instead turning specifically to divinities that rule over knowledge, magic, and the occult. That being said, they are unafraid to delve into forbidden knowledge when the need arises.

 Given the large number of their kind that feel the need to go out and seek new knowledge, it only makes sense that there are many baphon that become adventurers, but not all do so. Baphon tend to favor classes with at least some amount of spellcasting or mystical secrets, but exceptions do exist.

 Baphon Racial Traits:

+2 Dex, +2 Int, -2 Con. Baphon are agile and cunning, but the corruption in their blood has an effect on their health.

Type: Outsider (native)

Size: Medium

Normal Speed: Baphon have a speed of 30 ft.

Darkvision 60ft.

Fiendish Resistance: Baphon gain resistance 5 to cold, electricity, and fire

Mountain-Born: Baphon gain a +2 racial bonus on Acrobatics checks made to cross narrow ledges and on saving throws against altitude fatigue and sickness.

Occult Focus: Baphon gain a +2 bonus to concentration checks to cast psychic spells defensively, and to skill checks to cast occult rituals.

Spell-Like Ability: Baphon gain the ability to cast greater detect magic once per day.

Languages: Bapon begin play speaking Baphon and Common. Baphon with high intelligence score can choose from the following languages: Abyssal, Aklo, Draconic, Infernal, Protean, and Sylvan.

[bestworstcase]

zhan tiri :)

(:

What I love about them:

canon: fascinating, eccentric, open-ended lore makes a good sandbox for headcanons and interpretations; cool and eclectic aesthetic; gremlin baby is so wild and so much fun and i adore her with all my heart

bitter snow: custom-tailored to my exact tastes because i crafted her out of a few bits and bobs of lore pre-s3 and have never looked back. she’s a trillions of years old cosmic creator-devourer who wanted to become more than that so BADLY that she broke reality in two to make it happen and she is also, literally just a cat. her design is just all the animal symbolism i like stuffed into a single character and slathered in a nice coating of tar and swamp and rot.

BISA: exactly the same as bitter snow but a twenty-six year old catastrophe without any of the power that enables bitter snow to do whatever the fuck she wants so instead she is just permanently filled with unspeakable wrath and also has a sword

strings: eldritch monster cosmic devourer zhan tiri RIGHTS also every aesthetic vibe bitter snow has strings has also. might actually be even more of a ham than bitter snow which is very cool and sexy of her

DF: tragic and angry and fucked up and her friendship with cass lives rent free in my head. has the team braincell but helpless to avoid the consequences of cassandra’s general disastrousness and catastrophic decision-making

diadem: has literally never done anything wrong, ever, in her life,

burn a broken effigy: very canon flavor but with more eldritch flair. 10/10.

What I hate about them:

no 💜💜💜

Favorite Moment/Quote:

like. every single moment gremlin baby is on screen. her monologue in RTTS. her…everything in OAH. gloating over the wreckage of the demanitus device. how flat out feral she is in CR. her grand finale in plus est. every word out of her mouth in the pre-CR stingers. i LOVE HER

What I would like to see more focus on:

nuanced zhan tiri complex motivations zhan tiri actually cares about cass zhan tiri MORALLY GREY ZHAN TIRI

also ELDRITCH ZHAN TIRI

What I would like to see less focus on:

please no more cardboard cutout mustache twirling evil zhan tiri. if you can’t at the very least give her the delightfully charismatic pure evil she had as gremlin baby or the horrific eldritch monster vibes then use a different villain 💜

Favorite pairing with:

canon & burn a broken effigy: no

bitter snow: *wails* dione and sorchā

BISA: that is a surprise for later :)

strings: no

DF: cass

diadem: caine

Favorite friendship:

canon: sugracha and tromus (let me have this)

bitter snow: all the scions and also cass and also sirin

BISA: that is also a surprise for later :)

strings: strings/bitter snow cinematic universe!zhan tiri

DF: her mentorship of varian is very cute. also cass

diadem: what friends. someone please get this woman a friend

burn a broken effigy: i love anton

NOTP:

zhan tiri/demanitus 🚫 (unrequited as like a comphet thing for human!zitis is acceptable)

Favorite headcanon:

…literally just all of bitter snow lmfao

special shout out for ferret ziti though

[qohow]

The 10 Ugliest Cars of All Time

It’s true that there’s more to life than looks, but some car designers sometimes let their imagination run wild until they cross the limits of good taste. Let’s take a look back at these automotive gems, a little too different from the others.

1953 : Reliant Regal

Acclaimed for its lightness and urban design, the Reliant Regal is the first car perched on three wheels.

Whether a manufacturing defect or a simple expression of British eccentricity, the Regal has since become a symbol of British popular culture. Impossible to have missed the appearance of this weirdness in Mr Bean’s adventures!

1957 : Edsel

As the 1960s approached, XXL models appeared on the other side of the Atlantic. Ford tried to give a new lease of life to its business by launching a brand of cars that were more powerful, more comfortable, but also more fanciful. But Edsel failed to seduce… An episode often described as the greatest commercial failure in the history of the United States…

1961 : Citroën Ami 6

A compromise between the DS and the 2CV, the Citroën Ami 6 is the ideal car for small purses looking for a car with a well thought-out design. Designer Flaminio Bertoni created the curvaceous lines reminiscent of a friendly face, although the car has sometimes been called a “toad” by its detractors. Nevertheless, the Ami 6 was the best-selling car of 1966, ahead of the Renault 4.

1976 : Renault 14

Nicknamed “the pear”, the Renault 14 sold one million units despite its futuristic design for the time. Compact and lightweight, the R14 also boasts highly contrasting volumes: tight at the front and massive at the rear to meet the new needs of families seeking comfort. An exceptional interior space that marks a real turning point in automotive design.

1980 : Renault Fuego

In spite of an appearance in the James Bond Dangerously yours, the Renault Fuego does not make the unanimity by its style very anchored in the Eighties. Among the innovations, the fully glazed “bubble” tailgate and the black fluted side strip are supposed to give the whole an aerodynamic line. While the look is sporty, the engine hasn’t really lived up to its promises.

1992 : Aixam Mega Club

The Aixam Mega Club marks the return of a segment that has disappeared since the Citroën Méhari: that of the useful and modular beach car. Georges Blain, owner of the license-free car brand Ariola, sought to diversify by offering for sale a car that was different from the others in every way. Far from going unnoticed, this unique look will be available in no less than 10 versions: convertible, covered, sheet metal, 4×4…

1998 : Fiat Multipla

Duck or dolphin, it’s hard to identify what inspired Fiat designers to create the Multipla. In France, sales of this car never took off, unlike in Italy, where the Multipla was the best-selling compact MPV in 2002. This limited success can be explained by the “practical” advantages (large cabin, six seats, etc.) appreciated by parents with large families.

2000 : Pontiac Aztek

A cross between SUV, MPV and pickup, the Pontiac Aztek aims to appeal to all driver profiles by meeting the needs of each.

This risky approach has resulted in a misshapen and rather expensive creation that is now being sold off in the U.S. auto market.

2005 : SsangYong Rodius

By producing a minivan with an imposing design, the Korean brand SsangYong is setting out to conquer the Western automotive market.

Cubic rear, stylized front, 180° swivel seats, length exceeding 5 meters… the appearance of the Rodius is very different from those of other minivans.

2015 : Toyota Scion XB

Even if they come from a foreign factory, the cars produced for the American market stand out, or rather impose themselves, by their opulent appearance.

The geometric shapes of the Toyota Scion XB are no exception to the rule, and are more like the aesthetics of a large refrigerator than a car designed to appeal to young drivers.

[elfyourmother]

If Gisele could have any mythical creature as a pet, what would she pick?

Probably a phoenix. They’re beautiful and inherently magical with a lot of esoteric symbolism and thus very fitting.

It’s interesting tho given the strong solar/fire associations they have bc I’ve always associated her very strongly with lunar/ice and water powers & motifs. Part of it is the Mage origin having that striking opening shot of the full moon over Kinloch Hold leaving a strong impression on me the first time I played DA:O. But also in my verse the Surana line is very old, one of the few pre-Dales elven bloodlines still in existence, and in Arlathan times they were renowned water mages and clairvoyants. (and ofc there’s the Ororo homages w Gisele)

But I think it’s really fitting to have her evolve to encompass the solar aspect too, and the fire that goes with it, after being reborn in Eorzea. Ofc there’s also the Louisoix connection which is extremely important, not just because she helped Alisaie uncover the truth of his fate after Carteneau, but because he’s the very reason she ended up in Eorzea in the first place. “Hydaelyn called her” is a necessary simplification, She used Louisoix as the conduit. Gisele died in Denerim at the precise moment that he loosed the spell at Carteneau to unleash the Twelve. It was the magical equivalent of shooting off an enormous flare in the night sky and it was what drew Gisele’s aether through the Lifestream. And there’s a profound spiritual bond between them as a result. If Hydaelyn is Gisele’s cosmic Mother, Louisoix could very much be seen as her cosmic father. So the Phoenix has a special meaning to her from that angle, given what became of him. (Which is why I think the ShB iteration of Summoner leaning heavily into the Phoenix energy makes it feel more fitting for her than the previous Bahamut Mage stuff)

Besides Louisoix though, there’s the very obvious death and rebirth symbolism. Gisele very literally died and was reborn ofc but rising from the ashes of defeat and despair is arguably one of the perennial themes of her story across all iterations. Even before she died in this universe, Gisele survived nearly being expelled from the Circle, Ostagar and everything in its wake, false imprisonment, etc. Then there was the assault on the Waking Sands and the agony of trying to rebuild the Scions and find her captured friends, trying to find a way to save Thancred, the Bloody Banquet in Ul’Dah, etc etc. Gisele has experienced tragedy after crisis and every time it looks like it’s too much, this will be the thing that finally breaks her, she comes back even stronger than before.

On a meta personal level phoenixes have always been important to me, not just for The Aesthetic(tm) but bc the symbolism of what it represents is deeply meaningful to me. From a Final Fantasy standpoint my favorite iconic Summons in the franchise have always, always been Shiva and Phoenix. But it’s also probably part of why I initially latched so hard onto Kael in WC3 and feel so much kinship w the sin’dorei in general.

Ironically just the other night I couldn’t stop thinking about Gisele getting a giant phoenix tattoo on her back.

[xdcvilwithinx]

My Father’s Sins Are Out Tonight || Self-para

TAGGING: Evan Grey III, The Demon Azareal, (mentions of Evalyn Grey, Evan Grey, Sr.) LOCATION: Fallcrest Forest, en route to the Nexus TIME FRAME: New Year’s Eve, Nearing Midnight GENERAL NOTES: After doing her part to get as many of the wounded as possible to the triage unit, and overtaken by the anger of knowing the war is one giant distraction, she heads into the forest intent on stopping the real plan

Last night had been the very first time she’d transitioned into her full demon form, and Evan wasn’t entirely sure it was something she was comfortable doing on a regular basis. The physical pain brought about her body rearranging itself, and the aesthetic of it all aside, her full demon form seemed to augment her succubus powers to the point that it didn’t matter what kind of energy she felt around her, she was going to siphon if for herself.

It had been a rush at first, being to heal almost immediately instead of having to wait. But then she’d noticed how indiscriminate the siphoning was, and how her full demon form was making her fellow soldiers weaker on the frontline, and she could allow that. So she’d but a clamp on it and hadn’t dared to go near that level of rage again.

Until now.

As she watched the new frontline near the school struggling to hold out until midnight, when the magic would wear off enough on those things to make them easy targets, Evan couldn’t help but think about how all of this was just a giant distraction. These creatures served no further purpose than to divert all supernatural focus, leaving the real target completely unprotected and up for the taking.

Throwing a few more energy balls at some bezerkers and a feral to weaken them for the others, she began to retreat from the frontline and head in the direction of the forest. Evan had a plan in mind, but there was no way in hell she was going to risk draining any of the people that had essentially become their last line of defense. 

Once out of sight, she shimmered to a random part of the forest and tapped back into the power from before. As soon as her vision turned red, she wasted no time in tapping into her sensing ability. Her father was near and he was one of the men responsible for what was happening to her town. After all, regardless of how much her grandfather wanted to distance what he believed to be his own daughter’s greatest mistake from the Grey name, the truth was that by virtue of being her mother’s daughter, the blood of the original Gray witches that helped to found this haven ran through her veins.

But so did his.

The ancient Incubus Azareal, conquerer of lands far and wide, had mistaken a powerful witch for a simple human to siphon and drain. Instead, he left behind a child who would be connected to him for as long as they both lived. And it was this very connection that Evan tapped into now, stretching her sensing abilities to their very limits in a bid to get a read on where exactly the Scions currently were in relation to the Nexus. It took almost everything in her, but she finally managed to sense him and based on where she located him, Evan shimmered to a part of the forest he’d have to cross to reach what he wanted. Wasting no time, she took out her athame and began to carve symbols on specific trees, shimmering from tree to tree in an effort waste even less time.

Evan was just making her way to the middle of the area, when moonlight caused the tell-tale ripple of someone shimmering before her to become apparent. She didn’t have to wait until he was corporeal to know it was him, however, once he caught sight of her an unsettlingly large smile spread across his features. “I see you’ve managed to tap into your full potential. I’m impressed. You’ve managed to shed the mask of humanity all on your own,” he goaded.

“If you find the mask of humanity such a burden to bear, then why are you still wearing yours now?” she countered, not really interested in the reason, but needing him to shed the glamour in order for things to fall into place. It seemed that her mother was right in having once told her she inherited her temperament from her father, as all it took was that simple question for him to revert to his true form as well. As soon as he stood before her, a staggering seven feet easy, Evan couldn’t help the laugh that began to pour of her from deep within her chest.

The laugh was such, that one point she even doubled over attempting to catch her breathe, and Azareal was forced to finally ask, “And just what the bloody hell do you find so entertaining child?”

The half-demon managed to regain just enough composure to state, “I just really hope you didn’t have somewhere else to be tonight...”

No sooner had the words her lips, than her father was shimmering in an attempt to get to the Nexus, failing miserably as the ward that Evan had prepped the area with caused him to get no further than maybe a few feet. This didn’t stop him from trying at least another five times, Evan’s laughter serving as a soundtrack to the entire ordeal.

Her laughter was only cut short when she felt his taloned hand clutch at her neck and lift her clear off the ground. Bringing her eye-level to himself, red on red, he growled out, “I don’t know why you find this so funny. After all, if I can’t get out of this place neither can you.” The words were followed a menacing squeeze to her throat, clearly meant to intimidate her into lowering the ward.

However, Evan simply leaned in a little closer and ground out, “Perfect set up for some long overdue father/daughter bonding, no?”

Her answer came in the form of being flung by the neck, coming to a stop only when her body collided with the invisible -but very much solid- ward of entrapment that she’d enacted. The second shot, from hitting the ground after, knocked the wind out of her a bit. As she struggled to get back to at least a sitting position, Azareal advanced on her determined to show no mercy regardless of whether this was his daughter or not. He didn’t have to voice it. Evan could sense it. All of it. While both in their true forms, their connection was its strongest, and for some reason he hadn’t had the forethought to attempt to temper it on his end.

She could feel his rage mounting, and she wasted no time in  siphoning what she could so that enough strength came back to be on her feet and shimmering to the other end of the entrapment. There were only two ways he would be getting out of here: wait out til midnight, when the ward would be rendered useless and hope to still be in time at the Nexus. Or, the one she could already feel he was option for: kill the enactor of the ward have the spell break with them.

Evan had managed to check the time shortly before carving into the trees. Though her sense of time had been a bit warped by everything that had happened since then, she knew all she had to do was hold out for ten minutes - five of which had likely already passed. The girl didn’t have any grand delusions of actually surviving a one-on-one battle with her own father, but if she could at least hang on until midnight, there was a chance the Nexus could remain undisturbed for at least another year.

It was with this in mind, that she sent out the first energy ball at the much older demon. His attention was quickly focused on dodging her shots, as even though she wouldn’t be able to kill him, being a supernatural herself, her magic would certainly cause him harm as if mortal. Unlike her, his demon makeup afforded him wings, which he fully used to his advantage by hovering above ground.

Evan took a running start at one of the trees near him, and once her foot hit the bark she shimmered to twice as high up and did the same when the second foot came down, giving her the height and launching point she needed to drive her athame into one of her father’s wings. Using her own weight, she then dragged the blade down the length of the wing, and then landed on the ground, shortly followed by a very disgruntled seven foot demon.

Though she knew she was likely staring into the face of her own death, Evan found that there was no shaking to her resolve. She’d spent her entire life being regarded as a mistake, told she wasn’t worthy for a number of reasons that were all beyond her control. As she stood here in front one of the very sources the lifelong curse upon her name, her shirt torn, her body bruised, and the world now silent as her hearing aids had finally given out from the recent damage, none of that mattered. Because in her final stand, she would make sure it was worth something.

Standing her ground even as Azareal began to take a running start at her, Evan simply waited for the impending contact that she knew was to come. It had to be nearing midnight, and even if it wasn’t she was wiling to go out so long as she took this asshole with her.

When it happens, she isn’t entirely sure what order things occurred in, but by the time all is said and done, Azrael has managed to take a deep swipe at her face with enough force to have her on the ground, bleeding profusely, and back to her humanoid form. Granted, for his troubles, he himself is now laying about a foot away in a pool of his own demonic, inky blood as an athame protrudes from one of his temples. Evan tries not to think too much about how ironic it is that this should be their first and last meeting as everything slips into darkness.

[yahoonewsphotos]

'From riches to rags': American photography in the Depression

The exuberance, affluence, and luxury of the Jazz Age came to a screeching halt when the American stock market crashed on Oct. 29, 1929. The decade-long Great Depression followed, marked by massive unemployment and precipitous declines in personal income, tax revenue, business profits and trade. Adding to the calamity, the Great Plains experienced a major drought and dust storms in the mid-1930s, causing tens of thousands of families to abandon their farms and become migrants. Drawing entirely from the Cleveland Museum’s superb holdings of early 20th-century photography, “From Riches to Rags” examines the choices photographers made during that time of extreme social upheaval and economic distress.

Documentary photography, which records what is before the camera, was uniquely suited to offer direct visual testimony of people’s distress and hardships. Recognizing that power, in 1935 the federal government began hiring socially concerned photographers such as Walker Evans, Dorothea Lange and Arthur Rothstein to depict the suffering of rural and urban populations. Their photographs, disseminated in magazines, books and government publications, proved effective at drumming up support for government aid programs.

One of the most iconic images of the Depression is Walker Evans’s 1935 portrait of 27-year-old Allie Mae Burroughs, an Alabama sharecropper’s wife and mother of four. Despite their poverty, the Burroughs family did not qualify for government assistance. Ironically, Evans had been photographing in the area for the government, but shot the Burroughs family to illustrate an article by James Agee for Fortune, a deluxe business magazine. The project grew too large for Fortune, so in 1941 Agee and Evans turned it into a book, Let Us Now Praise Famous Men. Both Burroughs’s portrait and the book are included in the exhibition.

Paradoxically, the decade of deprivation saw an explosion in the use of photography in advertising with the advent of the American picture magazine, specifically Life in 1936. Even in the Depression’s worst year, 75 percent of the American workforce was employed and buying necessities, if not luxuries. Eye-catching advertising photographs helped companies compete for the diminished pool of consumer dollars. There is no hint of privation in the ads. Elegantly gowned women primp in Edward Steichen’s “Fashion Ad for Coty Lipstick,” 1934–35. The delectable still lifes of food and kitchenware by Paul Outerbridge depict abundance. These lifestyles were out of reach for many Americans, but thumbing through a magazine and fantasizing cost nothing.

There were individuals whose lifestyles were hardly affected by the Depression. Alfred Stieglitz, scion of a wealthy family, was able to dedicate his life to art without the need to earn a living. He was one of the key figures in the campaign to recognize photography as a full-fledged art form, equal to painting and sculpture in its capacity for creativity, personal expression and formal exploration. In 1934 a photography exhibition at the Cleveland Museum of Art included 10 of Stieglitz’s photographs. Purchased by the museum the following year, they became the first photographs to enter the collection.

Among them is a close-up of the hand of painter Georgia O’Keeffe, Stieglitz’s wife, as she lovingly caresses the spare tire of a Ford V-8 convertible coupe. The image was made on the occasion of her reunion with her husband — and her much-beloved car — after an extended convalescence following a nervous breakdown. O’Keeffe had paid for the car herself. Not just a glossy object of consumer desire, it symbolized independence and freedom.

Stieglitz’s photograph is emblematic of modernism, a photographic movement characterized by sharp focus and an emphasis on the abstract values of compositional structure. While documentary photographers tackled contemporary social issues, the modernists tended toward timeless subjects such as portraiture, landscape, nature and even abstraction. Ansel Adams found breathtakingly magical scenes in the wilderness. Edward Weston’s pictures of the dunes near Oceano, Calif., verge on pure patterns of dark and light. These artists chose not to depict the suffering and chaos that surrounded them. Instead, they created idyllic, ordered worlds, or at least more perfect versions of external reality.

Some photographers in the 1930s felt an obligation to document contemporary society, while others were moved to produce art for art’s sake, or art that offered spiritual elevation or aesthetic pleasure. These approaches were not necessarily mutually exclusive. Sometimes temperament dictated the artist’s choice, sometimes the ability to make a living. Like our own complex and unsettled era, the 1930s seemed to call for and appreciate multiple styles of and approaches to photography. (Barbara Tannenbaum, curator of photography)

From Riches to Rags is currently on exhibition at the Cleveland Museum of Art through Dec. 31, 2017.

Photography from top: The Cleveland Museum of Art, Wishing Well Fund, 1975.36. © Walker Evans Archive, The Metropolitan Museum of Art; The Cleveland Museum of Art, The A. W. Ellenberger Sr. Endowment Fund, 1985.47. © The Imogen Cunningham Trust; The Cleveland Museum of Art, Wishing Well Fund, 1973.120. © Walker Evans Archive, The Metropolitan Museum of Art; The Cleveland Museum of Art, Gift of Mark Bassett, 1999.138.

See more photos of ‘From riches to rags’ and our other slideshows on Yahoo News.

[davidmann95]

Agree or disagree: the Court of Owls was more interesting back when it was called the Black Glove, and those guys were more interesting back when they were called the League of Assassins.

Agreed on your first point, not certain I could possibly disagree harder on the second.

Certainly, it’s pointless at this stage to argue that Snyder’s Batman work wasn’t…inspired by Morrison’s tenure, and that the first thing he does is have a group of ultra-rich sadists with ties to Batman’s past try to snuff him out once and for all is very much in line with that, but the Court is ultimately something different than the Black Glove. The Glove, as I’ll get to in a minute, is all about the pain they can inflict, whereas with the Court, while they certainly revel in the suffering that comes with their rituals, at the end of the day they’re all about the business. They’re not out to conquer Gotham in order to summon Barbatos and drink deep of the starry black venom of eternity, they’re in it for money and power. They’re Gotham’s weird gangster class - your Penguins, your Black Masks - ascendant, tied into the power structures of the city on every level and supplied with their own labyrinthine cave, their own molded circus orphans. Even their own vengeful Wayne child, deliberately poisoned and armed by crime as a weapon against the Batman by convincing him to see Bruce as his very own Joe Chill.

With all that you’d sure think they’d have a lot on the ball, but in practice they’ve been chumped out hard. Batman can go to screw with them anytime he likes these days, while the Talons don’t even qualify as minibosses anymore. The issue is that they’re this massive, inevitable threat in Batman’s world, and they’re enticingly easy to bring back - especially with the running start Snyder and Capullo and company gave them - but their mystique is shattered once they’re just another bunch of punks for Batman to Batman all over. It’d help if there was some kind of thematic underpinning to them that could be explored, but all they really are is Spooky Rich Bastards, excellent for the one story but essentially redundant afterwards. Tim Seeley seemed to have realized that, letting Nightwing take them down in his own book and killing off Lincoln March, but Snyder’s bringing them back in with Metal, so we’ll just have to see where it goes. As is, they’re a respectable gimmick that’s already being stretched well past its conceptual breaking point unless and until someone finds something meaningfully new to do with them, or just lets them fall into the background as a single aspect among many of Gotham’s larger underworld.

Taking a step back however we return to Dr. Simon Hurt and the Black Glove, who are basically perfect. For one, Morrison’s concepts rarely get brought back, so they’re not at risk of overexposure - when Hurt properly reemerged recently it was framed as a huge deal, and I very much doubt it’ll meaningfully extend in the long term past two or three books - and R.I.P. isn’t the kind of crowdpleasing blockbuster Court of Owls was, so you can go a hell of a lot weirder with them. The product being that these people aren’t just Spooky Rich Bastards, they’re Spooky Rich MAD Bastards, which makes all the difference. They already rule the world, so they gamble on human life for the simple sake of spreading cruelty and hate because they’re above the law, the concept of capital-c Crime Batman has devoted his life to battling blown up to as platonically grandiose and absurd a scale as Batman himself. Moreover, Hurt himself is plain and simple The Batman Of Crime - not in terms of the role he casts for himself as with Bane, but as a Wayne scion who devoted himself to a bat-shaped ideal and uses his wealth to wage an unrelenting crusade defined by symbolism and warped psychology, who takes the young who have suffered tragedy under his wing, albeit in each case in the most monstrous forms possible. Far more than the likes of Joker or even Two-Face, Hurt and his Black Glove are formed around the distressing thought of what would happen if Batman really was just the sadistic madman so many like to paint him as, reflecting the undercurrent of decadence and unwellness of his world back at him. They’re not reusable in the same way as the Court potentially could be: the Black Glove itself is secondary, and while Hurt’s amazing, he rides a fine line between intimidating and pathetic that would be easily tipped over if he showed up all the time. But for their intended purposes, no one does it better.

The League…not really sure what you’re getting at with them. Ninjas are always well and good, yes, but the League themselves are just jobbers for Ra’s. As for him, heretical as it feels to say I’m starting to get why Grant Morrison said he isn’t actually a fan. His scope is impressive, his motivations are reasonable and reflect Batman’s own, but his actual narrative potential is limited at best. You always know his plan and roughly how he’s going to enact it because his motives and psychology aren’t particularly complicated nor his resources all that outlandish by Gotham standards, you know he and Batman are going to cordially snarl at each other because Batman’s never going to consider his offer and Ra’s is too normal compared to the likes of the Joker or Riddler to really surprise him, there’ll probably be a swordfight, Ra’s will escape justice yet again - the only time I recall anyone putting a notable spin on that formula was Mark Waid with Tower of Babel (stealing the Wayne corpses being a twist he mentioned waking up for years praying no one else would use first). Ra’s, in relation to Batman, is there for 3 stories of any real substance:

1. The initial confrontation and offer of joining forces, followed by the rejection and swordfight, preferably concluding with Ra’s flipping right the fuck out and asking/screaming if Batman is man or fiend from hell.

2. Some kind of final showdown, because the material and emotional stakes are so high with Ra’s and the usual means of detaining Gotham’s villains so insufficient that there has to be an ultimate confrontation to resolve it. We’ve gotten that at least twice: Paul Dini and Dustin Nguyen gave us a defacto last Batman Vs. Ra’s Al Ghul story in Detective Comics #840, while Greg Rucka and Klaus Janson gave us a conclusion focused more on the Al Ghul’s themselves with Death and the Maidens.

3. Ra’s as an immortal eventually lives to see the end of the only man he ever respected, as Pete Tomasi and Don Kramer handed us pretty excellently in Nightwing #152.

And that’s pretty much it. Granted those are three absolutely wonderful stories, but past that, when he’s treated as a regular recurring threat in the same way as your Scarecrows and Mr. Freezes Ra’s is just another stock Batman villain, even if he brings a handful of interesting aesthetic twists with the ninjas and globetrotting and doomsday weapons. That’s not really a flaw either: it’s Talia who’s the real center of the average Al Ghul story, the great lost love who Batman never really could have made it work with even though they both so desperately wanted to fool themselves into believing otherwise, eventually turning on him but with complications that make her a far more unpredictable and versatile and emotionally charged foe, and she in turn begets Damian who brings all kinds of narrative territory onto the table and depends on the context of being from an operation like the League (honestly, Ra’s would be a more consistently potent villain for Damian than he ever was for Bruce). But with Ra’s himself, while he has very specific and powerful uses, by and large he’s almost always existed mainly to facilitate other, more interesting characters.

EDIT: So as it turns out the Court of Owls are out to conquer Gotham in order to summon Barbatos and drink deep of the starry black venom of eternity. The idea of them as an inversion of the iconography of Batman’s family in the same way as Batbatos is of Batman himself has some punch too. Still, they’re ultimately in it for the money and power rather than a sheer belief in Evil as a guiding force unto itself, so they’re a markedly different manifestation from the Black Glove, at heart the same small-minded, high-rolling bastards they always were. Still, them leveraging their symbolism entirely calculatedly and cynically in serve of base goals might be the key to their long-term potential.

[dreamofcentipedes]

Hi R-kun! What do you like much about Tokyo ghoul? It has many great sides (character developments, the deep meaning behind some panels, the tragic theme). Since you post great metas I bet you observe even the tiny details in the chapters. Incredible work, keep it going 👌🏻

Wah, how am I to cope with all this flattery? Thanks for all your kind words! As for what I like about Tokyo Ghoul, the answer to that is…

E V E R Y T H I N G

Captivating moral dilemma as the story’s main premise, excellent use of horror as an exploration of the human subconscious, psychologically rich and fascinating characters, literary and symbolic resonance throughout, excellent manipulation of atmosphere, beautiful artwork, and one hell of an otp. 

But first and foremost, what initially captivated me about Tokyo Ghoul was that it was a mature but spiritually faithful scion of the Urban Fantasy genre that I’d always loved since I was a kid. I was big into shows like Digimon, Bleach and Doctor Who because, rather than taking place solely in a fantasy world, they brought the Fantasy right to your doorstep - there was always a scintillating feeling that it could happen to you, and even then I came to really enjoy the aesthetic of urban areas in contrast to fantastic beasts and the juxtaposition of the normal and the abnormal. 

Tokyo Ghoul takes the concept and presents it graphically and realistically, parading the thin borderline between fantasy and horror to match the adulthood shift from “I wish these things could happen to me!” to “Thank god these things aren’t happening to me!”. The seinen rating lets it mine the genre for its full potential to open up serious avenues of moral and psychological inquiry within an already captivating concept, making it enjoyable both on the surface and at its core. 

But what I especially like about it is that it’s not a deconstruction of the genre but an evolution. It never disowns the key tenants of the UF genre and manga as a whole: ordinary people coming into greatness, epic fights, power-ups, etc. It just evolves them to a greater level of maturity and unlocks potential within the format for deeper levels of analysis. So for people who grew up with a love of that genre, it’s wonderful to see Ishida evolving its legacy for us to enjoy today and bringing it back into the fore as a form of literature - something not really done since the Victorian Gothic and The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.

I could really go on forever or I could just roll around on the floor with a big grin on my face, but for the sake of brevity and dignity I’ll leave it there for now.

[faithful-grigori]

“#the symbolism of Scion's powers and aesthetic, #the fact that IIRC he was called out as curing Vikare and Annex's cancer specifically via targeted wavelengths, #but no other examples of medical intervention, #I think about Scion!, #I think about Scion a lot”

One additional thing about Scion that I find interesting is that he isn’t exempt from the ironic monkeys paw logic governing the Worm power system. His stilling ability outwardly imposes order and resolves problems, but it does so by canceling out everything- all forms of energy, molecular activity, power expression, all perfectly countered and evened out to a null state. In other words, it’s applied entropy, creating heat death in miniature. Scion’s main day-to-day problem solving tool is quietly a minute acceleration of the One Big Problem he and the other Entities are so desperately trying to outrun. Solve the problem in front of you, shorten the rope elsewhere. He can’t create with it; he can only damage things in an agreeable way. And it looks angelic. It looks helpful.