#there were no interesting lines on the bridge (where he loses his revolver) or during the ending phonecall

[fancyshooting]

MGS3 SCRIPT NOTES: DEFINITIVE OCELOT EDITION

[All machine translated. Taken from MGS3 scenario book. Comments in square brackets were added by me.]

FIRST ENCOUNTER AT RASSVET

距離はかなりある。 スネークをザ・ボスと間違う程。

The distance is considerable. So much so that he mistakes Snake for The Boss.

早撃ち。 撃つごとに肘を曲げ、リコイルの衝撃を吸収する。 (オーバーアクションにみえるが、高等テクニック)

Rapid firing. Bends his elbow after each shot to absorb the shock of recoil. (This may look like overacting, but it is a high level technique)

オセロットは大佐から聞いているので、ザ・ボスだと思っている。 オセロットの言葉「伝説の ボス」の意味には気づいていない。

Ocelot thinks he is The Boss because he has heard it from the Colonel. He is unaware of the meaning of Ocelot's term "The Legendary Boss".

「なんだ? その構え方? その銃は?(麻酔銃か?)」

"What the hell? What's with the way you're holding yourself? What's with the gun? (Is that a tranquilizer gun?)"

目の前にマガジンとジャムっていた運命の弾丸が落ちてくる。この弾丸を本編では首からぶら 下げる事になる。いつも弾を弄るのが癖。

The bullet of fate, jammed in the magazine, falls in front of him. This bullet is to be hung from his neck in the main story. He always has a habit of fiddling with the bullet/playing with bullets.

負け知らずだったオセロット、信じられない。自尊心崩壊。

Ocelot, who had never lost, can't believe it. Self-esteem collapses.

スネーク、銃口をオセロットに向け、冷徹に話す。教官のように。

Snake, muzzle pointed at Ocelot, speaks coolly. Like an instructor.

スネーク

「(見真似で流行りの技術を使おうとする若者を見て一言いいたくなった) 初弾を手動で排していたな。 考え方はおかしくない。 だが、聞きかじっただけ の行為を実戦で試すもんじゃない。だから弾詰まりなど起こすんだ」

Snake: "(I wanted to say something when I saw a young man trying to use trendy technology by imitation.) You manually ejected the first bullet. The idea is not strange. But you shouldn't try out in battle what you've only heard about it. That's why you get jammed bullets."

オセロットはこの時の強烈すぎる屈辱でスネークに惹かれる。 またこの時のセリフをMGS1 のATで言う。

スネーク

「だが早撃ちは見事だった･･･いいセンスだ」

オセロット

「いいセンス･･････」

―オセロット、動揺し、そこで気絶する。

Ocelot is drawn to Snake because of the intense humiliation/disgrace at this time. He also says the line at this time in the AT [?] of MGS1.

[惹かれる - to be charmed by; to be attracted to; to be taken with; to be drawn to]

Snake: "But the quick shot was brilliant... good sense."

Ocelot: "Good sense..."

Ocelot, upset, faints there.

[動揺 - disturbance; unrest; agitation; excitement; commotion; turmoil; discomposure; feeling shaken]

IN THE HELICOPTER

[Couldn't find anything very interesting here but included some lines anyway.]

ヘリ内(ハインド)のカーゴ内には大佐とオセロット、 山猫部隊。 オセロットは元気なく、ジ ヤミングしたマカロフと弾丸を見つめている。

In the cargo of the helicopter (Hind) are the Colonel, Ocelot, and the Wildcat Unit. Ocelot is in low spirits, staring at the jammed Makarov and bullet.

大佐の狂気の行動にショックが大きい。

Colonel fires. Ocelot is shocked by the madness of the Colonel.

SECOND ENCOUNTER AT RASSVET

オセロット

「(嬉しそうに)その構え、その構えだ(見たかった)」

スネークに会えてかなりうれしい。

恍惚のオセロット。EVAは身体をよじって逃げようとする。

Ocelot: "(Looking happy) That's the stance, that's the stance (I wanted to see)." He is quite happy to see Snake. Ocelot is ecstatic; EVA twists and turns to escape.

スネーク

「確かにいい銃だ。だが、その彫刻は何の戦術的優位性もない。実用と鑑賞用は 「違う」

オセロット

「･･････ (かなり傷ついた)」

Snake: "It's a nice gun, to be sure. But the engravings have no tactical advantage. There is a difference between utility and appreciation."

Ocelot: "... (quite hurt)."

リボルバーには残弾がなくなっている。マカロフが8+1なので6発で空撃ち! マカロフに

慣れていたのでうっかりしていた。

The revolver has no more ammo left. The Makarov is 8+1, so 6 rounds and empty! He was so used to the Makarov that he was careless.

スネーク、説教を続ける。

Snake continues preaching.

二度の失��に苦い顔。さらにスネークが好きになる。

Two blunders and a bitter face. He likes Snake even more.

手でEVAを制するスネーク。

スネーク

「待てっ!(オセロットが好きになりだしている)」

EVA

「どうして?」

スネーク

「奴はまだ若い」

Snake controls EVA with his hand. Snake: "Wait! (He is starting to like Ocelot.)" EVA: "Why?" Snake: "He's still young."

BOLSHAYA PAST CREVICE

実はザ・ボスはCQC時に発信機を付けた。 コブラ部隊はこの発信機のおかげで先回りしている (発信機情報を頼りにオセロットや蛇軍団は待ち受けている)。

The Boss attached a transmitter during CQC. Cobra forces are ahead of him thanks to this transmitter (Ocelot and the Cobra Unit are waiting for him, relying on the transmitter information).

オセロット

「やはり来たな。 ザ・ボスの情報 (発信機)は確かだ」

Ocelot: "I knew you'd come. The Boss' information (transmitter) is solid."

―顎でスネークの背後を示す。 と、スネークの背後(エリアの入り口) 山猫部隊が塞いでいる。 山猫部隊が見張っている。つまりはスネークとオセロットのタイマン勝負の環境を作っている。 山 猫部隊はスネークにAKを向けている。GRUの一般兵士、 コブラ部隊に邪魔されない、通れないように見張っている。

編注:製品版では合図が猫の鳴きまねに変更されている。また、山猫部隊がスネークを、GRUの一般兵士が森の入り口を見張るような配置をする。

He indicates behind Snake with his chin. And behind Snake (entrance to area), the Wildcat Unit blocks. The Wildcat Unit is keeping watch. In other words, they are creating an environment for a one-on-one match between Snake and Ocelot. Wildcat Unit has AKs pointed at Snake. General soldiers of the GRU, watching to make sure they are not interfered with or passed by the Cobra Unit. Editor's note: In the production version, the signalling has been changed to a cat meow. In addition, the Wildcat Unit should be positioned to guard Snake and the GRU general soldiers to guard the entrance to the forest.

オセロット「12発だ･･････いいか、今回は12発だ」

スネーク、戸惑う(銃を抜かない)。 オセロット、見事なガンプレイで銃をホルスターに戻す。かなり銃が手に馴染んできている。 オセロットらしさが光る。

Ocelot: "Twelve shots... Okay, twelve shots this time." Snake, confused (does not draw his gun). Ocelot, with excellent gunplay, puts the gun back in its holster. The gun is becoming quite comfortable in his hand. Ocelot's character/essence shines through.

一蜂の大群が来襲! 蜂は暗雲となり、空を���む。辺りをすっぽりと包む。夜のように暗くなる。 山猫部隊パニックに陥る。ここではまだペインは出さない。蜂が山猫部隊に襲う。 スネーク、姿勢を低くして蜂の来襲に備えている。 オセロット、たまらない!

A swarm of bees attacks! The bees become a dark cloud and envelop the sky. It completely envelops the area. It becomes dark as night. The Wildcat Unit panics. The Pain is not released here yet. The bees attack the Wildcat Unit. Snake, keeping his posture low, preparing for the bees to attack. Ocelot, irresistible!

オセロット

「(ふん、ふん、えい、えい等、蜂をよける息)」

オセロット、ガンプレイで蜂をよける。

Ocelot: "(Damn, damn, ei, ei, etc. breath to repel bees)

[I think えい is onomatopoeic. One website says this: (1) *son of a bitch!*; (2) *shriek* *aiiee!* Yelled when getting down to serious physical business.]

Ocelot, dodging bees with gunplay.

PONIZOVJE WAREHOUSE

ザ・ボス

「勝手な真似はするな(クレバスでの事)」

ザ・ボス、リボルバーをオセロットに見せる。

ザ・ボス

「奴(スネーク)は我々コブラ部隊が処理する」

ザ・ボス、手の中のリボルバーをバラバラにして返す。対面するザ・ボス。(母親と息子)

オセロット、怒って去っていく(基地に入っていく)。

The Boss: "Don't do anything rash (in the crevasse)." The Boss shows the revolver to Ocelot. The Boss: "We'll take care of him (Snake) with our Cobra Unit." The Boss returns the revolver in his hand in pieces. The Boss faces him. (Mother and son.) Ocelot, leaving angrily (entering the base).

GROZNYJ GRAD

大佐

「必ず内部にスパイがいる」

オセロット

「同志を疑うなど(自分がフルシチョフ派のスパイなので)」

Colonel: "There is always a spy on the inside." Ocelot: "I don't doubt my comrades (since I am a Khrushchevite spy)."

大佐

「CIAの犬め!」

大佐

「残るはザ・フューリーのみか......。伝説のコブラ部隊がいとも容易く……」

オセロット

「(うっとりと。つい本音を言ってしまう) さすがだ･･････」

右手でリトルジョーを回している。 大佐、 オセロットをキッとにらむ。

大佐

「惚れたのか?」

ボス、白い馬に近づく。

Colonel: "CIA dog!" Colonel: "Only The Fury remains... The legendary Cobra Unit is easy..." Ocelot: "(Enraptured/absentmindedly/in a daze. I can't help but say how I really feel.) As expected..." He spins Little Joe [The Fear's crossbow] with his right hand. Colonel, glaring at Ocelot. Colonel: "Are you in love?" Boss, approaching on white horse.

オセロット、つまらなそうに基地内へ。

と、EVAの背後を通り過ぎようとして立ち止まる。

オセロット 「ん?」

鼻をひくひくさせる。EVA、緊張して一歩下がる。

オセロット

「(鼻をひくひくさせる音)」

オセロット

「香水か?(どこかで嗅いだ臭い)」

EVAに近づき、全身をジロジロと見る。右手でリトルジョーをくるくる回している。

オセロット

「ふむ(思い出せない) ••••••」

EVAの足下、バイク用の編み上げブーツを履いている。着替える時間がなかった。

もしくはゴーグルを首にかけていてもいい。

リトルジョーの矢先をEVAの首筋にピタリと向ける。

オセロット

「いいブーツだ。ちゃんと磨いておけよ」

バイク用のブーツ、左足の甲がバイクのシフトペダルでEの字にかすれている? 乗り方が荒 いので激しいキズ、または特有のシフトチェンジ癖で独特の形になっている。オセロット、去ってゆく。ほっとするEVA。

Ocelot, looking bored, went into the base. And, trying to pass behind EVA, stops. Ocelot: "Hm?" Nose twitching. EVA, nervous, takes a step back. Ocelot: "(sniffing sound)" Ocelot: "Perfume? (I've smelled it somewhere before.)" Approaches EVA and stares at her. He is twirling Little Joe with his right hand. Ocelot: "Hm (can't remember)..." EVA is wearing laced up motorcycle boots. She didn't have time to change. Or she could wear goggles around her neck. Little Joe's arrow tip is pointed squarely at EVA's neck. Ocelot. "Nice boots. Make sure you polish them properly." Motorcycle boots, the back of the left foot is scratched in the shape of an "E" by the shift pedal of the motorcycle? The back of the left foot is scratched up into a distinctive shape due to rough riding, or a peculiar shifting habit. Ocelot leaves. EVA is relieved.

WEAPONS LAB WEST WING

ザ・ボス、顔を背けて、部屋を出る。

室内からスネークを殴打する音が響く。

戸口にオセロットが立っている。 恨めしい表情。

ザ・ボス、 オセロットと目が合う。

目をそらすオセロット。 ザ・ボス、去っていく。

編注:製品版ではザ・ボスはオセロットと目を合わせない。視線をさけるように去っていく。

大佐の暴行は続く。

スネーク、気絶する。FO。

The Boss, turning away, leaves the room. The sound of Snake being struck echoes from the room. Ocelot is standing in the doorway. Reproachful expression. [恨めしい - reproachful; hateful; bitter] The Boss makes eye contact with Ocelot. Ocelot looks away. The Boss leaves. Editor's note: In the production version, The Boss does not make eye contact with Ocelot. She leaves as if avoiding his gaze. Colonel's assault continues. Snake, faints, FO [?].

TORTURE

大佐、スネークに身体に電流を流す! 震えるスネーク。

スネーク

「(電撃をくらった悲鳴)」

やるせないオセロット。といいながらも大佐の電撃拷問に惹かれる。

Colonel, applying an electric current to Snake's body! Snake trembling. Snake: "(screams as he is hit by an electric shock)" Ocelot, unwilling to do anything about it. But he is drawn to the electric torture of the colonel. [惹かれる to be charmed by; to be attracted to; to be taken with; to be drawn to]

オセロット

「大佐の拷問に耐えたな」

オセロット

「耐え抜いた奴を見て初めてわかった。 (拷問も)悪くない」

オセロット

「究極の表現法だ」

Ocelot: "You survived the Colonel's torture." Ocelot: "I didn't understand until I saw the guy who endured it. (Torture) is not so bad." Ocelot: "It's the ultimate expression."

WATERFALL

スネーク 「! (意を決し、飛び込む気合)」

オセロット 「スネーク!(やめろっ!)」

スネークを失いたくないオセロット、悲痛の叫び

Snake: "! (Determined and ready to jump in)" Ocelot: "Snake! (Stop!)" Ocelot, not wanting to lose Snake, cries out in sorrow. [悲痛 - grief; sorrow; extreme sadness; heartbreak]

HANGAR AND VOLGIN FIGHT

スネークに向けてオセロットが自慢げに言う。

オセロット

「臭いだ。臭いでわかった」

スネークが口を開こうとすると、オセロットはそれを制して。

鼻をひくひくならすオセロット。

オセロット

「ガソリンの臭いだ。バイク用のな。女にガソリンの臭いが染みついていた」

Ocelot boasts to Snake. Ocelot: "It's the smell. I could tell by the smell." When Snake tries to open his mouth, Ocelot stops him. Ocelot, with his nose twitching. Ocelot: "It smells like gasoline. It's for motorcycles. The woman had the smell of gasoline all over her."

オセロット、感極まる。

オセロット

「この時を待っていた･･････待ちわびていた」

オセロット、2丁拳銃を回す。

スネーク、背後に向き直り、構える。

オセロット、リボルバーで「ダメダメ」の仕草をする。

Ocelot, overwhelmed. [感極まる - to be overcome with emotion] Ocelot: "I've waited for this moment... I've been waiting for this." [待ちわびる - to be tired of waiting; to wait impatiently]

去り際にスネークを見ると、大佐に見えないように、小さくガッツポーズ(やっちまえ)。

As he leaves, he looks at Snake and does a small guts pose so that the Colonel can't see him (Just do it!).

["Guts pose" is the gesture Ocelot does throughout the game.]

MOTORCYCLE CHASE

そこにあったバイク(サイドカーついていない)に飛び乗る。

近道するために大ジャンプ!! EVA同等のハイテク!

He jumps on a motorcycle (without sidecar) that was there. Big jump to take a shortcut!! High tech on par with EVA!

大佐は「あるスイッチ」を入れる。

シ���ゴホッド、変形してロ��ットブースターモード（フェイズ2）になる。

ロケットブースター全開！ ターボ音が轟く。

大佐、オセロットがブースター近くにいるのを知っている。

追いつこうとしていたオセロットに燃焼ブースターがもろにかぶる。

オセロット「（悲鳴)」

火傷するオセロット。罵る！ニヤリと微笑む大佐（対決の仕返し。

オセロット「ビッチ!(アメリカ人的に)」

思わず、米語で口走ってしまう。 やや道をそれるオセロット。 またしても遅れる。

The Colonel flips "a switch". Shagohod, transforms to rocket booster mode (phase 2). Rocket boosters at full throttle! The turbo sound roars. Colonel knows Ocelot is near the booster. The combustion booster is right on Ocelot's head as he tries to catch up. Ocelot: "(screams)." Ocelot getting burned. Curses! The Colonel smirks (payback for the confrontation). Ocelot: "Bitch! (American) Instinctively, he blurts out in American English. Ocelot slightly off the road. Delayed again.

WIG

静かにオセロット告白。

オセロット

「おまえと最後の勝負がしたい」

オセロット、首にぶら下がったジャム弾を指さす。

了解するスネーク。

スネーク

「いいだろう」

Ocelot confesses calmly/quietly. Ocelot: "I want to have a final match/play a final game with you." Ocelot, pointing to the jammed bullet hanging around his neck. Snake, understanding. Snake: "Alright."

騎士道を感じて、名前を聞くオセロット。 Ocelot, feeling chivalrous, asks his name.

[If you choose the loaded gun but don't fire:]

オセロット

「なぜ撃たなかった?」

オセロット、ピュアな笑み(友情)を浮かべる。

オセロット

「･･････まあいい」

Ocelot: "Why didn't you shoot?" Ocelot, pure smile (friendship). [友情 friendship; fellowship; camaraderie] Ocelot: "...Well, okay."

[If you choose the loaded gun and fire at Ocelot:]

撃つスネーク。銃口から硝煙が上がる。

オセロットはなんともない。

オセロット、両手を上げて笑う。

オセロット

「空砲だ。 楽しかった」

オセロット、ピュアな笑み(友情) を浮かべる。

Snake shoots. Gunshot smoke rises from the muzzle. Ocelot is fine. Ocelot raises his hands and laughs. Ocelot: "Blanks. That was fun." Ocelot, pure smile (friendship). [友情 friendship; fellowship; camaraderie]

RADIO CONVERSATIONS

[Radio conversations in the original Japanese script don't seem to vary much from the official English translation but some lines have direction notes that add some extra info.]

【On the Admonitory Speech to Ocelot】

【オセロットへの訓示について】

Pメディック

「さっきのお説教は何?」

P-Medic: "What was that sermon you were giving earlier?" [Included this because of the word "sermon", which hints at the dynamic between Ocelot and Snake. Snake is also described in the second Rassvet encounter as "preaching".]

Pメディック

「彼は敵でしょう? どうしてそんなアドバ イスをするの?」

スネーク

「...... (本当になぜだか分からず考え込む)」

Pメディック

「スネーク?」

スネーク

「………どうしてだろうな。なぜだか放っておけなかった･･････」

Pメディック

「(意味のわからないことを言い出したので ちょっと心配になった) スネーク、あ なた大丈夫?」

スネーク

「…………ああ······(まだ考え込んでいる)」

P-Medic: "He's the enemy, isn't he? Why are you giving him advice like that?" Snake "...(pondering, not really knowing why)" P-Medic: "Snake?" Snake "...I don't know why. I couldn't leave it alone for some reason..." P Medic: "(I was a little worried when he started saying things that didn't make sense) Snake, are you alright?" Snake: "...Hm... (still pondering)"

【Letting Ocelot Escape】

【オセロットを逃がしたこと】

EVA

「ところでスネーク、なぜオセロットを逃

がしたの?」

スネーク

「言っただろう」

EVA

「まだ若いから?」

スネーク

「ああ」

EVA

「答えになってないわ」

スネーク

「そうか?」

EVA

「ええ」

スネーク

「……そうかもしれんな (本人もなぜ助けて

しまったのか、まだよくわかっていない)」

EVA: "By the way, Snake, why did you let Ocelot go?" Snake: "I told you." EVA: "Because he's still young?" Snake: "Yeah." EVA: "That's not an answer." Snake. "Really?" EVA: "Yes." Snake: "...Maybe so. (I'm still not sure why I helped out, either.)"

Pメディック

「スネーク、「荒野の用心棒 (For a Fistful of Dollars)」って知ってる?」

スネーク

「いや、知らないな」

Pメディック

「イタリア製の西部劇よ」

スネーク

「(怪訝) イタリアの? さしずめマカロニ・

ウエスタンだな」

Pメディック

「かっこいいのよ。主人公のガンさばきな

んて特に」

スネーク

「ガンさばき······(オセロットを想起)」

Pメディック

「私は少佐に教えられてイギリスで観たんだけど、本国ではまだ公開されていないの」

Pメディック

「でもあんなに格好いいんだもの。きっと 観られるようになるわ。 スネークも必ず観てね」

スネーク

「ああ」

P-Medic : "Snake, have you ever heard of 'For a Fistful of Dollars'?" Snake: "No, I don't know it." P-Medic: "It's an Italian western." Snake: "(Puzzled [怪訝 - puzzled; perplexed; quizzical; dubious; suspicious]) Italian? It's a macaroni western [spaghetti westerns are called macaroni westerns in Japan]." P-Medic: "It's cool. Especially main character's gunslinging." Snake: "Gunslinging...(reminds me of Ocelot)" P Medic. "I saw it in the UK after the Major told me about it, but it hasn't been released at home yet." P-Medic: "But he's such a cool guy. I'm sure you'll get to see it. Make sure you watch too, Snake." Snake: "Hm."

【Food Missing From Equipment】

【装備から食糧が消えている】

EVA

「あなたと同じものを食べてみたかったらし いわ(スネークにあこがれるがゆえの行動)」

スネーク

「どういうことだ?」

EVA

「わからない?」

スネーク「ああ」

EVA

「朴念仁」

スネーク

「......??? (全くわかっていない)」

EVA: " He wanted to try the same things you did (actions due to longing for Snake)." [憧れる - to long for; to yearn after; to admire; to be attracted by] Snake: "What do you mean?" EVA: "Don't you understand?" Snake "Hm." EVA: "[朴念仁 - 1. quiet unsociable person​ 2. obstinate person; blockhead]" Snake: "...??? (I don't understand at all)"

[hotel-japanifornia]

Like, I love Miles Edgeworth, but he's overshadowing literally everyone else. Like he's not overrated since he actual holds up to his love, but damn, there are so many fics on him and his story from the og trilogy only. Miles has grown up beyond it and I love him for it since it makes him three dimensional.

Ok, you wanna know what greatly amuses me about you mentioning how people only pay attention to him and his story from the og trilogy only?

Edgeworth plays an important role in 4 of the 5 cases in the original game (3 of 4 if you really hate RFTA and want to exclude it from your mind. Feel free to do so but you’ll be hella frustrated when you play AJ. Unless you liked Ema.)

He only appears in 1 of the four cases in JFA and is mentioned in 2 and cameos in 1. If you don’t count the cameo, which I do, that only adds up to 1 case. Comparatively a small role, but he has a big impact on Franziska’s motivations and is the reason she wants to crush Phoenix so badly. Points to Takumi for not doing a generic “avenge my father” plot. Respect him (and Franziska) for that. He does play an extremely important role in the one case he appears in, so don’t think I’m trying to downplay him or anything.

Edgeworth is majorly absent in the third game. He prosecutes in only one case and that’s his annoying 20 year old self. He comes back in the fifth case to fill in for the defense and does play a hand in Iris and Dahlia switching places. Had it not been for that earthquake, he wouldn’t have freaked out and lost sight of Iris in the first place. He doesn’t do a whole lot else after that though. 

I say this because if you think about it, Edgeworth is only in 7 of the original 14 cases if you count physical appearances only (6 out of 13 in the OG trilogy). While I won’t argue that Edgeworth isn’t important in the cases he’s in because he is totally, I will argue that it does feel odd how the focus is on him so much of the time.

And the thing is, I can see how people would argue how Edgeworth is the central character in the first game. Edgeworth is the character we see grow throughout the course of the game. We learn the most about him than any other character and the events of the game revolve around him (Turnabout Goodbyes, the DL-6 incident, etc) more than other characters besides Maya who shares a connection with him as they both lost parents to the DL-6 incident (how have those two not had more interactions, honestly?) and loses her sister in the second case.

I would argue however, that Edgeworth isn’t the character at the center of the second game although we do see him mentioned in conversations by Franziska and Phoenix. I don’t know why people will acknowledge his “Miles Edgeworth chooses death” note but absolutely refuse to acknowledge how awful of a move that was. The reason being is that it was cryptically worded and anybody reading it would think he killed himself which Franziska and Phoenix did, while Gumshoe was the only one who knew what really happened. I know what the note actually meant (i.e. the death of the prosecutor Edgeworth once was) but still, it was poorly worded. 

In actuality, Phoenix is the protagonist and central character of the second game. He’s the one who goes through the most growth as we see him face a huge moral dilemma in the fourth case where he has to choose between saving his friend or sending a truly guilty man to prison. It’s absolutely interesting to see him in conflict with the character he was up to that point (someone who believed his client was genuinely innocent) and it’s something I think needs to happen more often. By that I mean, defending truly guilty defendants. While I don’t think they should be like Matt Engarde necessarily, it would be interesting to see more truly guilty defendants. (I know there’s one in DGS but not everyone has played that one so I won’t spoil.)

As for the third game, it’s pretty obvious who the main protagonist in that game is. It’s the Fey Clan obviously. Specifically, we learn more about Mia Fey, Phoenix’s mentor, through getting to play as her during the tutorial case and the other tutorial case both of which are short but help us get to know Phoenix’s wise and calm mentor. We see her during her first two cases and even get to witness her taking down Dahlia Hawthorne in an amazingly cool manner (by asking her to prove her innocence by taking Phoenix’s cold medicine which she poisoned). We also see her during her first case which was mentioned in Turnabout Memories and was said to traumatize her so badly that she felt like she was never going to step into court again. Since her opponent, Bratworth, had never lost a case before Turnabout Sisters, we know that the case won’t end well. But even so, it’s what actually happens that makes the case so gutwrenching. Seeing Terry Fawles kill himself on the stand to protect his former girlfriend who was the true killer makes for a saddening end. Regardless of what you think of him as a character, seeing Mia so distraught over not being able to prevent Fawles’ death tugs at your heartstrings. 

What’s even worse is that six months later, she loses her boyfriend when he gets poisoned by Dahlia. Which does raise an interesting question: did she see the case against Wright and take it because she saw Dahlia mentioned in the case files and thought she might be connected to it? It’s likely, seeing as she brought the article talking about Diego’s poisoning with her but who knows? Either way, seeing her so determined to take Dahlia down that she’s willing to have her badge revoked is sincerely cool to watch.

And even in the present day case that Dahlia appears in, Bridge to the Turnabout, Mia doesn’t stop being rivals with Dahlia. When Maya channels Mia to ask her what she should do after Dahlia attacks her, Mia advises her to lock herself up in the Sacred Cavern in the Inner Temple and channel Dahlia in order to protect herself. It’s an extremely risky move on Mia’s part and had Dahlia not been so stubborn in seeing Maya’s corpse for herself without considering that she might be channeling her, Maya could have died of hypothermia in there (which isn’t something I had considered until the last year or so). Still, it works out in the end and Iris and Dahlia-in-Maya’s-body switch places during the second investigation period. Mia then proceeds to exorcise Dahlia out of Maya’s body with Phoenix’s help:

Dahlia: …Grr…Mmm…Nnnn… Grrr… Ahh! M… M… Mia F… F… Fey Mia Fey! Mia Fey! MIA FEEEEY! You… You… spinster!! I was supposed to kill Maya Fey like I swore I would! And if only you had gotten this spiky-haired jerk the guilty verdict… …I wouldn’t have been hanged to death!

Mia: …… True.

Dahlia: …!

Mia: But I think you finally understand, Dahlia Hawthorne. …You will never defeat me.

Dahlia: Wh-What…!? What did you say!?

Mia: Whether you’re alive, dead, or somewhere in between, you will never defeat me. As long as I’m around, you’re destined to lose for all of eternity!

Dahlia: Grrr… Grrrr… Grrrrr…

Phoenix: …I remember what you said earlier in the trial. You said there was no way we could punish you… …because you were already dead.

Dahlia: What about it!?

Phoenix: Then you said… “Even when the body dies, the spirit, the ego, it lives on… forever.”

Mia: …That’s very true, Dahlia. And that’s exactly the punishment you’ll never be able to escape from.

Dahlia: …!

Mia: For all of eternity, you’ll have to remain as Dahlia Hawthorne. A miserable, pathetic, weak creature who can never win at anything… And for you, there is no escape from that. No hope of freedom. Since the day you were executed… …the narrow bridge that once stretched out in front of you has burnt to a crisp!

This causes Dahlia to freak out and pop out of Maya’s body with a extremely loud scream. It’s extremely chilling and awesome at the same time. 

One thing that stands out though, is that defeating Dahlia never stops being Mia’s personal victory as Godot mentions later on.

Godot: The woman who had spiked my scalding hot coffee… Dahlia Hawthorne! Ha…! Good ol’ Mia. She didn’t let me down. She got her revenge before she checked out. In the end… There wasn’t anyone waiting for me when I woke up.

In a way, the way that Mia Fey and Diego Armando go about taking revenge against Dahlia serves an interesting contrast to each other. Mia, although angry at Dahlia for sure, never let her anger consume her when trying to take her revenge on Dahlia. The only thing that Mia sought out to do was to make sure that she received justice for her crimes and upon finally getting Dahlia convicted of murder, moved on with her life. Mia even took Phoenix under her wing, despite his past connection to Dahlia. Even though he really had nothing to do with her crimes and even was supposed to be one of her victims, you can’t help but admire her for that.

On the other hand, Diego Armando never let his hatred of Dahlia Hawthorne go. Even after waking up from his coma and realizing that Mia had gotten revenge for him and got her sentenced to death. He was so blinded by hatred that upon encountering her at the Inner Temple Garden, he stabbed her with the cane sword, killing Misty Fey in the process. And unlike Mia, Diego hated Phoenix and even blamed him for Mia’s death. There’s also a line that suggests that he knew that Phoenix was the one that inadvertently helped Dahlia hide the bottle necklace containing the poison:

Godot: …… I never liked you. Six years ago… …you helped the woman who put me to sleep by hiding her bottle of poison. 

It’s an interesting line, indeed, and implies that Diego’s hatred of Phoenix went beyond Mia’s murder. Because Phoenix “hid” the bottle of poison, Dahlia was never able to be caught for Diego’s poisoning and thus escaped justice. In summary, Mia was able to move on with her life after Dahlia got caught while Diego wasn’t which ended up being his downfall.

I can also see how some people might make a case for Maya going through development of her own throughout Trials and Tribulations. During the second and third case, we see her express doubts about her own abilities as a spirit medium and it’s implied that she’s still shaken up by the murder in Kurain Village to the point that she hasn’t even returned to the village in a while:

Maya: Well, I’m kind of taking a break… I’m having a bit of trouble right now, you know?

Phoenix: (Last year’s incident must still be on her mind… I haven’t seen Maya train at all since then. I think Mia said it’s because Maya’s “at a loss these days”…)

It’s an interesting line, and is definitely one that people seem to overlook while playing through the game. Despite her lack of training however, Maya is still able to channel Mia during the last portion of the Stolen Turnabout. The conversation the two of them have reveals that Maya is going through a dilemma currently.

Mia: I’m just joking, Phoenix. Don’t take everything so seriously. But on the other hand, Maya… She seems kind of lost these days.

Phoenix: You mean about becoming the Master of the Kurain Channeling School?

Mia: Becoming the Master… means saying goodbye to our mother.

Phoenix: You mean Misty Fey…?

Mia: …Watch over her, will you Phoenix?

One thing I find interesting though, is that Maya’s dilemma about becoming the Master isn’t overly prevalent in dialogue. Sure it’s a part of what she goes through over the course of the game but it doesn’t take a huge focus. It’s certainly unique. Here’s one such example in Recipe for Turnabout 

Armstrong: You ‘ave la perfect face for a waitress, you know.

Maya: Um, thanks. I guess if things don’t work out someday, then maybe I’ll be back.

Phoenix: (What things? Is she talking about her being a spirit medium…?)

I honestly appreciate it for it’s subtlety; little character moments like this one, is what adds to the replay value of the games. True, you can just breeze through them, but taking the time to present random things to people can also reveal tons of interesting dialogue that can reveal more about the characters than if you were to do a regular playthrough and do what you need to do to progress further through the case.

All of this culminates in the last case when Maya goes to Hazakura Temple with Pearl and Phoenix to do some training which as mentioned before, she hasn’t really done much of since the Kurain Channeling incident. And unfortunately for her, it ends in disaster with her nearly being murdered by the ghost of her cousin, Dahlia and also witnessing Godot stab the spirit to death which kills her mother in the process.

When we first see Maya in the last trial portion of Bridge to the Turnabout, she’s more traumatized than we’ve ever seen her. And through this line, we get to see how she feels about the Kurain Channeling Technique in her current situation:

Maya: … I… I’m frightened. The Fey clan… I don’t want any more to do with it.

Now, let’s think about what this line means. Maya has dealt with a horrible amount of tragedy in her young life due to her heritage. She lost her mother, her sister left the village partly because she didn’t want to feud with Maya over the title of Master; her aunt plotted to have her convicted for murder and later tried to murder her through her beloved cousin, Pearl; and the one time that she decides to start training again, another tragedy occurs. Her mother was killed right in front of her by a man who was blinded by hatred towards the spirit possessing her body. It’s hard not to see why Maya would not want anything to do with her heritage after all the grief it caused her, so then, why does Maya decide to inherit the title of Master anyway?

Well, here’s the deal: The Fey Clan is extremely screwed up and has caused many of its members grief over the past two years. It’s no secret that the branch family has plotted against the main family before and has done so throughout its history:

Bikini: There is only one heir to the title of “Master” at any time, and it’s usually the eldest. That child becomes the new Master of Kurain, and her daughters, the main family. All other mediums become branch family members, with no hope of controlling the clan. That’s why nothing has changed throughout the history of the clan… Branch families always have and always will plot to erase those of the main family line.

However, Pearl doesn’t hold any sort of resentment towards Maya despite her being the heir to the title of Master. In fact, Pearl adores Maya and vice versa. The only reason she ever went with Morgan’s plan was because she thought by “It’s for the good of the Fey Clan” that her mother meant that her plan would benefit Maya and Pearl both. Maya similarly doesn’t hold any resentment towards Pearl  when she tries to blame herself for the death of Maya’s mother.

If you think about it, the fact that Maya stays and decides to become Master could also considered to be not only a result of her strength but a result of her deciding to fix the screwed up legacy of the Fey clan. As two of the people hurt most by the rivalry between the main family and the branch family, Maya and Pearl could work together to fix their family’s screwed up background and restore the Fey clan to its former glory. That’s the way I see it anyway.

Sorry for my long rant there, the Fey clan is very interesting to me. Honestly though, I’d argue that Edgeworth is more like a tritagonist. He’s extremely important at first but he becomes relatively less important over the course of the trilogy to the point that he’s only ever in one case in his present day form in the last part.

Maya is more or less the deutragonist of the games. She’s in 10 of the 14 cases in the trilogy and 6 of those cases (1-2, 1-4, 2-2, 2-4, 3-2, and 3-5) have her involved majorly in the plot whether it be her being accused of murder, dealing with her and her family history, or kidnapped (in which we get to control her too!). While she isn’t involved in the plots of 1-3 or 2-3 directly, she is the person who convinces Phoenix to take both cases and she even helps Phoenix out in the latter by raising the question of where Max’s bust is located which helps him catch Acro as the true murderer.

However, despite Maya’s overall importance to the trilogy, what stops her from being the main protagonist like Phoenix is that we don’t get to go into her head very often. We see Phoenix react to the situations around him, we get to see his thoughts while dealing with crazy witnesses and when he’s having a difficult time trying to prove something in court. Through this, we get to know Phoenix and in a sense, feel like we can connect with him. Even Edgeworth gets to be played during the first investigation and trial day of Bridge to the Turnabout where like Phoenix, we get to go inside his head and see how he thinks and how he feels about what’s going on around him.

With Maya, the time that we do get to control her in 2-4 is extremely short and doesn’t exactly allow us to get into her head. That’s not a point against her however as we do see her react to what’s going on when we aren’t in control of her. It makes sense that it would be extremely short though, as Maya is currently kidnapped when we do control her and the areas you can have her go aren’t very numerous. 

Still as much as I argue that Phoenix fits the central character and protagonist mold more than Edgeworth and Maya do, I believe that all three characters are important in their own unique ways.

[shipmistress9]

FTLOAP - 39: Once Upon A Time We Had A Lot To Fight For. We Had A Dream, We Had A Plan

Fandom: HTTYD

Theme: Hiccstrid - Medieval-style AU - Romance - Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Reduced to little more than a stable boy, Hiccup, despite his noble birth, has few prospects for more in life. But when he meets a girl who came to look at the horses, being a stable boy might not be enough anymore. Together, they have tough choices to make and great risks to navigate if they want to survive and be together.

Rating: Explicit

FF-net  -  AO3 -

Discord-server for discussions and questions

Part 1: Prologue; Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8; Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11;

Part 2: Chapter 12; Chapter 13; Chapter 14; Interlude 1; Chapter 15; Chapter 16; Chapter 17; Chapter 18; Chapter 19; Chapter 20; Chapter 21; Chapter 22; Chapter 23; Chapter 24; Chapter 25; Chapter 26; Interlude 2; Chapter 27: Chapter 28 ; Chapter 29 ; Chapter 30; Chapter 31; Chapter 32; Interlude 3; Bonus 1; Chapter 33

Part 3: Chapter 34; Chapter 35; Chapter 36; Interlude 4; Chapter 37; Chapter 38

Alpha/Co-author: @athingofvikings

. – * – _ . o O o . _ – * – .

AN: Okay, this was a tough chapter to write, though for once not because of the content. Let me tell you about the fourteen days since I last updated. The first nine I had writer's block and couldn't get even one word down for this story. Then followed two days where I was on quite a high and got down 7k words, which is a lot for me. And after that, there were two and a half days through which I struggled again to get anything done, which left me and my alpha-reader with less than half a day for edits. I still can't believe it's actually done by now, and if it sucks... well, then I'm sorry!

In addition, I'm not quite sure of this chapter. It got awfully long, but somehow I feel like nothing happens. I mean, I know that's not true. But still, it feels off. Well, it's something of a bridge chapter, I guess.*sigh*

This week's chapter owes its title to a friend who made me listen to The Rasmus again after many years of not thinking much about this band. And when I listened to 'Sail Away'... well, the very first lines of lyrics of that song just really hit me. They fit so well to how Hiccup and Astrid feel right now.

Also, a special shoutout to @lauracalabresi Thank you for your comments over the last few days, they were a great encouragement! ^^

. o O o .

Hiccup couldn’t remember how he’d made it back to the stables, nor how the night had passed in any specific detail. It was all just a blur of pain and sorrow, of desperation and hopelessness. It was over. Everything was over. It was true what he’d told Cami once, after all, that his entire life only revolved around her. But now, she was gone, and he didn't even understand why. He’d been so sure...

But now, it seemed as if the Gods had abandoned them, if not for that guttering spark in his chest that kept reminding him of her, cruel and unrelenting.

When Eret arrived at the stables, hours after the sun had risen, Hiccup was still sitting in his stall, unmoving, staring blankly out the small window, and registered nothing until his cousin’s broad hand touched his shoulder.

“Hey, Hiccup. You okay?”

Slowly, Hiccup turned to look at Eret, and forced a wry grin to his face.

“Hey. Yeah, I’m just… just tired, I guess. I’m sorry, I didn’t finish polishing all of your kit, but I’ll get back to that today.”

Eret gave him a scrutinising look, but nodded, accepting this explanation. “That’s fine, I won’t need it right away. But–” He paused, his eyes on Hiccup’s injured and bandaged hand. “What’s this?”

Quickly, Hiccup covered the hand with the other one. “Nothing. I cut myself, but it… it’s nothing.” At some point last night, the pain of the cut had eventually registered in his mind, but it was still too dull and unimportant to matter. All it did was remind him of her hands on his as she’d attended to the cut. Probably the last time he’d ever felt her touch… He swallowed, then made an effort to appear normal. “Anyway, what brings you here today? Don’t you need to do some training, or so?”

Eret still looked at him funny, but then shook his head. “Maybe later. But I came here for another reason. The thing is… I’m going to need my squire from now on. The hunts start tomorrow and then there’s the first small tournament in a few days, and… I already talked to father and we agreed that it will be safe enough now to keep these hotheads–” he nodded at the stallions, “– in a separate part of the main stables, now that the herd isn’t there anymore and there’s enough free space. They need to get used to that anyway. So... for the rest of our stay, you’re going to be my squire full time, which also means you’ll have to move; I can’t afford the time for you to hike back and forth to these stables. We could move to our townhouse, where there’s enough space for you to have your own room… but Grandfather’s staying there and...” he shrugged helplessly.

Hiccup needed a moment to wrap his head around what Eret had said. He seemed to be sorry for some reason, but Hiccup actually couldn’t see why. As much as he’d enjoyed the solitude of these outer stables during the past months, a change like this seemed like the best thing that could happen to him right now. It would keep him busy, would keep him from mentally tearing himself apart. It would keep him from remembering all the nights they’d spent here...

And then the rest of it registered. Oh. Right. His grandfather, who thought of him as a failure. Well, he was right, after all, but that didn’t mean Hiccup needed to hear it from the old prune.

“So what else is there?”

“Sharing a room in the squire barracks or the couch in my rooms,” Eret said apologetically, and then hastened to add, “It’s clean! I promise!”

Hiccup almost laughed – out of humour or despair, he had no idea. But he managed to keep the smile up. “The couch will do,” he murmured.

Something like a relieved smile played around Eret’s lips. “I’d hoped you’d say that. Dag and I already organised a trunk for your things and while it’s not an enclosed room, you’ll at least have a separate corner for yourself there. A little bit of privacy. Come, I’ll help you pack your things, then we can get the horses ready to be moved.”

Not having any reason to hold back, Hiccup got to work. His few possessions were quickly tossed in a rucksack – with Hiccup carefully avoiding a certain object hidden between the straw bales least Eret would ask unnecessary questions – before they turned their attention to the horses. All the while, Hiccup felt as if Eret was throwing him weird looks every now and then, but it never became so obvious that he felt like asking about it. To him, it wasn't important, and if Eret wanted to talk about something… well, then he could bring it up. Which he eventually did.

They had just started their way to the main stables – with Hiccup riding Chomp and leading Hunter at his side while Eret rode Squish and led Crusher – when Eret eventually broke the silence. "So… what do you think of these… new plans?"

Hiccup snorted. "What's there to think about?" he asked and tried not to sound as bitter as he felt. "I’m your squire and I would have needed to fully act like it by now anyway. So this is good, a change for the better.” Wrong! “And in case you meant the… the festivities... It's the King's right to entertain his people with hunts and tournaments and whatever else he's planned. It might even get interesting for us.” He forced himself to shrug nonchalantly in case Eret was still watching him.

“Yeah, interesting might be the right word.” Eret let out a deep sigh. “But that’s not what I meant. I mean this whole wedding scheme. I don’t get why Uncle Osmond thought that was a good idea. Or Daniel or my father, for that matter.”

Hiccup’s hands around Chomp’s reins tightened; it made him wince when the cut stung and the stallion snort in annoyance. Was Eret honestly asking him what he thought about her impending wedding? If he hadn’t been in danger to spill out exactly what he was thinking, he might have laughed. Instead, he just said, “Same answer. I don’t think it is my place to question the King’s decision. She’s going to marry one of these noblemen for the sake of the Kingdom. That isn’t really different from what was planned before, right?”

“True,” Eret admitted reluctantly. “But it still doesn’t feel right. And it’s certainly not right for Swanja! From what Snot said last night, she isn’t herself anymore. She lost her spark, her wit. He said she’d tried to appear unperturbed, as usual, but he saw right through her. All this must have hit her pretty hard; she was devastated at her birthday dinner. She wouldn’t even let us help or comfort her, for Odin’s sake!”

He sounded tense, worried, and Hiccup was incredibly glad that they’d reached a narrow path by now that wouldn’t allow them to ride side by side. It meant Eret couldn’t see his expression of soul-deep pain and self-loathing. Devastated… That seemed like an apt description of her the last few times he’d seen her. And it had been his fault.

Everything was his fault! And always had been… If he’d spoken his mind more firmly all those years ago, about not losing their connection to the Kingdom, his father might have stood up against their fellow tribesmen. If he’d acted more like the tribesman their people had expected him to be, they wouldn’t have been so openly against him being the heir to the High Chief’s title. If they hadn’t lost their standing within the tribes, his parents and siblings might still be alive and he would be a knight by now too. He could even participate in this competition for her hand as a ducal heir himself.

The thought was too good to be true, literally, and, unable to bear it, Hiccup pushed it aside. They all had thought they’d been doing the right thing back then, and reprimanding himself for it now, when he knew better, wouldn’t do him any good. Besides, he didn’t even need to go that far back into the past to pin down his mistakes.

He should have stayed away from her in the first place. The idea that, after all the things he’d messed up, his life could change for the better… this too had been too good to be true. Again, he’d made the wrong decision by becoming Eret’s squire just to be able to see her again, and now, she was paying the painful price for his impudence. Oh, he’d thought he’d been right back then, too. But the pain in her eyes last night was wholly and entirely his own fault, and any attempt of his to comfort her was bound to only hurt her more.

There was nothing he could do to help her.

Except…

“Don’t worry,” he heard himself say, oddly calm and composed. As if it wasn’t really him who was speaking. “What was is you said once? The Princess is a fighter. She’s tough. This whole wedding thing took her by surprise, but I’m sure she’ll accept it, eventually. She’ll come around and then you all can be there to support her when she’s ready for that.”

Eret grunted, but didn’t say any more until they’d reached the end of the narrow pass where he waited for Hiccup to take his place next to him. “You’re right,” he admitted, face turning to Hiccup, who was now focused entirely on keeping his feelings locked away as deep inside himself as possible. “But this is still different. Our fathers want her to marry one of us. How can we support her as her brothers when everyone is looking for signs as to who she’ll choose as her betrothed?”

“But maybe that’s the point,” Hiccup replied with a light shrug. “She was to marry one of you anyway, wasn’t she? Maybe it’s time to get over how you grew up like siblings and start seeing each other as what you are. An option. I… I think I know her well enough by now to say that she won’t spontaneously fall in love with one of those strangers her father presented to her. But a love match was never a likely possibility – for neither of you. And I remember what Daniel said on that first night we spent here, your accolade. He said that you would be good for each other, and… and I agree.”

Saying those words felt like a hungry beast tearing at the dead remains of his heart and soul. It hurt! But it was better this way. His own pain he could deal with, but hers? Not so much. And if it wasn’t within his power to help her directly, then the least he could do was send comfort in another form.

As they rode on, Hiccup was aware of Eret’s scrutinising gaze on him, and all he could hope for was that he wouldn’t see how Hiccup felt inside. But he didn’t say anything else until they reached the stables where a group of grooms quickly took over the horses to lead them to their new stalls.

“Hey, Hic,” he eventually spoke again once they were alone. “I know I offered to help, but… Would it be all right for you to get Markor and Cassie on your own? They shouldn’t give you any problems, after all. And I’ll take your bag up to my rooms, and…” he paused, grimacing, then shook his head. “There’s a message I have to send and I need to see whether I can find Dagur. Gotta talk to him…” He ran a hand through his hair, and if Hiccup wouldn’t be feeling so dead inside anyway, he’d be sorry for his cousin. It wasn’t only she who’d gotten thrown into this mess, after all…

But still, it was better this way.

“Sure,” he agreed with a sympathetic smile and a clap to Eret’s shoulder. “See you tonight then.”

On his way back to the outer stables, he wasn’t able to control his thoughts and emotions any longer though. He didn’t cry; after last night he didn’t think he had any tears left, but the pain still returned in full force.

It’s better this way, he kept chanting to himself. No matter how much the thought of her marrying Eret or one of her other brothers hurt, it was still the best option there was. She would have a good life with a husband who respected her as a person and not just saw her as an object, who cared for her. It might not be the right kind of love that connected them, but at least there was some form of affection, enough for her to eventually find comfort in her fate. It was all that was left for him to hope for.

And if she chose Eret… Well, Hiccup did feel sorry for him and Dagur. Even with knowing that their relationship couldn’t last, having it end this abruptly couldn’t be easy either. No wonder Eret had wanted to talk to his lover.

Once back at the outer stables, he concentrated on getting Cassie and Markor ready. It was a welcome distraction, and the familiar motions and the simple affection the horses offered gave him comfort, Cassie especially. She’d been with him for so many years now, had been his only support during trying times, and now easily adapted to his pain again. He took several minutes just scratching her and accepting her rubbing her nose to his chest, until something like a smile was back on his face. Not a happy but at least a content one.

The smile didn’t last long though, only until he entered Markor’s stall. The gelding directly looked up at his visitor, clearly hoping and then being disappointed as it wasn’t who he’d hoped it would be. The sight gave Hiccup a new sting, and he did his best to cheer the horse up by rubbing and cuddling his neck.

“I know, I know. I miss her too,” he whispered, hiding his face against the gelding’s warm fur. It was three days now since she’d last been here – a long time considering how often she’d been here during the past three months. No wonder Markor missed her, especially since he couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t come. “But don’t worry, boy. She’ll get back to you. You’ll see.”

Hiccup let himself feel comfort from the horses’ presence for a few minutes longer, before he got them both ready. He struggled a bit with which saddle to put on Markor, but then decided on the ridiculously decorated side saddle. It was the official saddle, after all, and he would need to ask Eret where to store the unofficial but more practical one.

When he was done, he let his gaze wander through the stables that had been his home during these past wonderful months, and gulped. Leaving this place for good felt like a sign. It was truly over, and their time really had only been borrowed, had never been intended to last.

He was about to leave when he remembered the one thing he’d left here before and hurried back to his former sleeping stall to retrieve it. If anyone was to find it by chance, it would only raise unnecessary questions. Hesitantly, he picked up the small swan-shaped oil pot. His chest was tightening – at the sight, at the memories, and at what it stood for. He’d been so grateful to Cami for this gift, not just because of why she’d given it to him but also because of what else it represented. He’d meant to keep it during the weeks and months of their separation, as a reminder and a promise for better times. The scent of the oil alone would have served to comfort him over missing her. But now? Now, it only hurt to look at it, the cool ceramic feeling as if it was burning his skin. All it did now was remind him of what could never be.

With a low suppressed sob, he stowed it away into a pocket, then left the stables without looking back. He tried to leave it all behind him as he once more rode down the path to the main stables on Cassie’s back, but his thoughts kept whirling around the pot and what it stood for. Why had the Gods abandoned them? He’d told her that maybe they’d been wrong, that they weren’t soulmates meant for each other after all. But he didn’t believe that, not really. She’d been right, he’d felt it too, the connection, their bond – and still felt it! All that had been real! And yet… And yet, the Gods had turned away from them, had separated them without leaving them any hope. Why? What had happened, what had changed?

A whirlwind of thoughts blew through Hiccup’s mind, thoughts that, in a way, added another layer of pain to his battered soul, but that, at the same time, made perfect sense.

It was all his fault.

With shaking hands, he pulled the pot back out of his pocket – leaving Cassie to find the way on her own – and stared at it. They’d gone too far... It made sense, now that he thought about it. This had to be what had angered the Gods. Them ignoring the rules, getting intimate before it was allowed. A part of him wanted to blame Cami for her support, for her assurance that it would be all right as long as they kept to certain rules. But Hiccup knew that wouldn’t be fair. It had been his decision to go further than he’d felt comfortable, than he’d been taught was allowed. He had ignored the rules he’d learned, had given in to his desire. He should have known better!

His breath became ragged as he kept staring at the oil pot and everything clicked into place. Them getting intimate must have angered the Gods. The timing was a clear indication. They’d gone too far, and before they’d been able to break another rule with their forbidden plan to have anal sex, the Gods had put an end to it. The timing was unmistakable.

It was all his fault!

A pained sob tore itself from Hiccup’s throat. Having lost her… that was bad enough. But now, he knew that it had been his own doing, that he should have known better. If he hadn’t been so foolish and selfish… their future would still be in reach.

Hiccup’s hand tightened around the pot – until it cracked. Without a warning, he was emerged in a cloud of intense mayweed scent, and it momentarily rendered him blind and deaf to everything around him. His mind got flooded with the memories he’d tried to hold back – of her smile, of her being in his arms, of burying his face in her hair and inhaling deeply. Of the flush on her face and her little gasps, of the taste of her skin, of holding her through the night. Of all the things that could never be.

With a pained and desperate outcry, he hurled the pot away. He wasn’t looking, didn’t care where it might land. He only wanted to get rid of it, to never relive those memories again. It was too painful.

But when he heard the splash of water, he looked up after all, puzzled. Without him noticing, Cassie and Markor had paused near the little lake that used to house her swans, and the pot must have landed in there.

How fitting, Hiccup thought bitterly as he watched the waves on the surface getting smaller and fading away. Eret had told him about the swans’ fate, how that, too, had hit her. It felt oddly right that this place now was also where all their hopes, dreams, and plans for the future were buried. Forever.

He stayed for a little while longer, gazing at the now-calm lake, and let the pain wash through and out of him. It was over, and there was nothing he could do but accept it.

He let himself wallow for a little bit longer, then forced every remaining trace of pain into a distant corner of his heart to keep it locked there forever. From now on, he had to function. Be it the upcoming tournaments and other occasions or the possibility of still seeing her regularly in case she chose Eret – he couldn’t let her or anyone else see his pain.

From now on, he wouldn’t let his emotions slip ever again.

. o O o .

A part of Astrid still clung to the hope that she would eventually wake up. Nothing seemed real; not the days she’d spent getting introduced to all her suitors, not the evening meals she was to take in the usual company of her father, the Grand Dukes, and their sons, and not the nights when she lay awake crying or too agitated to fall asleep until exhaustion took over. And now, she sat beneath a neat little pavilion, overlooking the fighting grounds that were decorated for the first of many upcoming tournaments, and still didn’t feel as if she was fully awake.

The whole setting was just… surreal. The sudden snow from the previous week had all melted by now, but it was still rather cool, and the practical part of her mind was grateful for her gloves and the warm cloak she was wrapped in – even as her heart kept recalling the warmer days from not so long ago. Around her, everything seemed dull and bland, colourless beneath the grey sky, except the brightly painted flags and banners everywhere which seemed completely out of place. It all just felt wrong to her. And the fact that the men in the arena beneath somehow believed that fighting each other would gain them her favour was just absurd.

Not for the first time, a pained outcry sounded over the crowd followed by a wave of whispers as one of the fighters fell to one knee and clutched at his thigh. Blood quickly stained his blue-and-green-coloured clothes in shades of red, and Astrid hoped that the blow from his opponent's sword hadn’t severed his main artery. It was quite possible that he’d not survive if it had.

The thought upset her even though she didn’t feel as if there was much left of her to be upset. She’d probably talked to this man during the past days, and now, he might very well be dying a pointless death. And the worst was that, if he died, he wouldn’t be the first and certainly not the last one either.

The first had been an accident during a short hunting trip two days prior. The man’s horse had been wounded by a misguided arrow from one of his companions, and the fall off his horse’s back onto the uneven ground of the forest had caused severe injuries – or something like that. Astrid only dimly remembered how the King and the other men had talked about it during dinner. It had been one of three deaths on that day, and since then, the body count had only climbed higher.

And as much as the small sane part of her mind despised these unnecessary deaths, she still had to admit that they weren’t unusual. Accidents during hunts happened. Likewise, injuries during tournaments weren’t uncommon. Many of the young men who participated considered the event incomplete if they hadn’t gotten a scar out of it. Once she had agreed with that bit of joking humour, but now? Now, she just felt numb.

So it was with a heart of stone that she watched the loser be carried off to the healer’s tent, festooned with Freya’s symbol. He wouldn’t be the last victim of these festivities, that was for sure. But as much as she loathed that thought… it wasn’t what really bothered her.

As selfish and as vile as the thought made her feel, she couldn’t bring herself to care too much for these strangers who had all come to haggle over her future as if she was nothing but a pretty adornment for their household. They had known what they were in for.

Although… with a strong sense of unease, she remembered the half hour she’d had to spend with Thuggory the other day. And even though she tried to forget his words, they still lingered.

“So here we are, Milady Astrid, in a close and intimate conversation, just like it should be. I hope you’re enjoying my company, because you’d better get used to it.”

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I will never become your wife. There’s nothing you can do to make me choose you!” It had been nearly the only words she’d said for days she actually remembered.

But Thuggory had only laughed. “Oh, you naive and stupid girl. You think I can’t force you to choose me? What if there’s nobody else left? What if I remove every other candidate until you see reason? You will become my wife, whether you want it or not.”

A shudder ran through her at that memory, and she quickly buried it in the depth of her mind. Thuggory could talk all he wanted, and chances were that he’d get himself killed. She didn’t even really feel bad for hoping for that outcome. But even that wasn’t what really concerned her.

No, what truly occupied her mind was the same topic that was ruling her every thought since the moment the King had made his announcement on her birthday.

She could see him standing at the side of the battleground, holding Eret’s substitute shield and sword ready in case his master might need them. It was the first time she’d seen him since he’d fled from her in the armoury that night, and even though she’d known he would be here, the sight of him had floored her completely.

During the last few days, her heart had… No, it hadn’t started to heal, but it had become numb. She’d refused to think about him, hadn’t let her consciousness dwell on what couldn’t possibly be true. He couldn’t have been right! This wasn’t the first time they’d encountered difficulties or misunderstandings, like when they’d first started to get intimate and he’d more or less avoided her for days. Back then, they had only needed some good advice and the chance to talk openly until everything was clear again. This was no different… wasn’t it?

Her eyes were burning, her lower lip starting to quiver, and she turned her attention back to the fighting men before she would burst out into tears in public. It will all be solved, she repeatedly thought to herself. We just need time to work it out.

But deep inside, she knew that this was very different from the little problems they’d encountered before. Because they already had talked. And it hadn’t solved anything. On the contrary, as much as she hated to admit it, the words he’d said to her at the armoury were not ones she could easily dismiss.

‘We’ve already lost.’

Yes, she’d refused to believe those words, but she also couldn’t simply dismiss them as wrong. No matter how much she wanted to ignore them or how much she tried to come up with a solution… she couldn’t find one. Maybe he’d been right after all...

This was another thought she’d vehemently ignored during the past days, but now… Seeing him standing there tore all wounds open anew. No, she didn’t want to believe that their shared future had been nothing but a pipe dream. But arguing against it became harder and harder, especially with seeing the utter hopelessness in his posture. Oh, he might be trying to hide it, to appear unperturbed and focused on his work – but she easily saw through him just like he’d always been able to see through her mask. She could see how much he was suffering, saw the pain in his hollow eyes. He’d said that he still loved her, that their feelings hadn’t been just their imagination. And yet, he’d clearly given up. There was no fight in him anymore, no strength to even consider fighting. He was broken, and seeing him like that broke her, too.

Biting down on her lip, hard, she gazed down at her hands, clenched into tight fists to keep them from trembling. So, what if he had been right? She’d tried her best to find a solution, but everything she’d brought up he’d warded off as impossible, and rightly so. And he who was so much smarter than her, who was able to think so quickly and come up with solutions for every problem… had given up. Slowly and against her will, the realisation seeped into her heart.

They’d already lost…

Once more, she glanced at where he stood and it felt as if her heart was breaking all over again. It was over, really and truly over. Her hand wandered to her chest as if to catch the shards and keep them together, but it was no use. A fresh wave of pain tore through her and it only got worse when she saw him grimace and mimic her gesture, his hand pressing to his chest as if he could feel it too. For a short heartbeat, he glanced up at where she sat and their eyes met. It was like a last goodbye, a last shared moment, the acknowledgement that he felt the same but that that didn’t change anything.

There was no hope left for them, nothing they could do.

. o O o .

The realisation left her feeling hollow, even more so than the pain of the announcement and his words had before. There was nothing left for her. Nothing to look forward to, nothing to hope or to fight for. All that was left to her was a dull and empty future with a man she didn’t care for while always remembering what she’d lost, what could have been. It was a frightening thought, and for two days, it was all she could think about, making her tumble deeper and deeper into her misery, until Ruff put an end to it.

“This can’t go on,” she exclaimed when she spotted the plate of once more untouched tea and biscuits. “I get that you feel horrible and I’m sorry, I really am. But you’ve got to eat! You can’t let yourself waste away just because that boy turned your head and broke your heart. No matter how much you might despise this and how little I like to remind you about it, you’ve got responsibilities.”

Astrid snorted, the only reaction that gave away she’d listened at all with her standing by the window and looking out over Lake Vola’s calm surface. Responsibilities… Yes, that was all that was left to her. Fulfilling the expectations placed on her, marrying to keep the Kingdom stable and popping out children for her future husband until her body gave up. It wasn’t any different from what she’d been prepared for all her life, but where before she’d accepted the thought with a certain composure and even a hint of pride to fulfil this duty, it now only made her feel dreadful. But who knew… maybe she would be lucky; maybe she would end like so many other women and not survive such a life for long…

She flinched when, without a warning, a hand touched her shoulder. “Milady, you’ve got to move on,” Ruff said urgently. It could have come across as cruel and cold-hearted, but Astrid knew her maidservant well enough. Most of all, she was practical. “I know it’s not easy, but you have to. You have a few hours left before today’s hunting party returns and you’ll have to welcome them back; how about you try and get on other thoughts until then, take a break? You could visit your horse; Tuff can escort you there. Or the herb garden? Maybe there are a few plants that already grow, or you could clean it up for the warmer days?”

Swallowing, Astrid closed her eyes. Ruff was right, and she knew that. She couldn’t continue like this forever, like nothing but an empty shell. Eventually, she would have to go on, to get over him. A tiny voice in the back of her mind was screaming at her that this was wrong, that she shouldn’t have to get over him, that they were meant to be… But she ignored it and hoped that, one day, the voice would disappear. So far though, it only threatened to tear her apart – the logical knowledge that they had no chance against the denial still simmering beneath – and she wrapped her arms around herself in a fruitless attempt to keep herself together. Suddenly, seeking distraction sounded like an excellent idea.

“Okay,” she whispered weakly. A slight frown crossed her face as she thought about Ruff’s suggestions though. The idea of visiting Markor was alluring, but even with him now housed at the main stables, he was too tightly linked to all those wonderful memories she tried to forget, and she wasn’t sure whether she could stand being near him yet. No, that wasn’t an option, and visiting the herb garden wasn’t an appealing idea either; it would only remind her of these last few days at the dead royal gardens where she’d been offered like meat to a pack of wolves. But what else could she do?

Something like a small smile tugged at her lips as she remembered another option, another place she could go and hide from reality, from who she was, and where she got treated like a normal person.

“Is Tuff ready?” she asked in a quiet but somehow steadier voice. “I’d like to go visit Fishlegs.”

Ruff reacted with an approving grin. She even went so far as to pack the biscuits and other pastries to take with her, even though Astrid felt odd bringing food Heather might very well have prepared herself as a gift. However, she understood that Ruff’s main motivation was her hope that Astrid might still eat something, so she didn’t say anything, and not even half an hour later she knocked on the door to her friends’ house.

There were grunts and the shuffling of cloth audible, even through the door, but it still took over a minute before a tired looking Fishlegs opened her. When he recognised her though, his face brightened. “Astrid! Now, that’s a surprise. Uh, come in, come in.”

He stepped aside and waved her in, threw a wondering look at Tuff but shrugged and closed the door again when her warder made no attempts to come in as well and instead stayed with the chickens outside. He hurried around on his short legs to which he owed his nickname, and picked up boxes and other stuff to make room for her.

Astrid hesitantly took the seat he eventually offered to her and watched him with a worried expression. “Is everything all right? Is this a bad time for me to visit?” she asked, a little self-consciously. She’d looked forward to coming here once the plan was made, but hadn’t spared even a second to think about whether her friends even had time for her. But Fishlegs directly warded her concerns off with a smile and a shake of his head.

“No, no, don’t worry. We were just taking a nap, but it’s time to get up anyway.” As if to contradict himself, he yawned. “Uh, sorry. ‘s been a tough few days, but who am I telling this… Still, it’s good to see you. How are you doing?”

Warding his question off with a grimace and a shrug, she began to unpack the parcel of treats Ruff had given her. She hadn’t come here to dwell even more on her situation though, so she directly changed the subject. “And you?”

Fishlegs gave a little shrug, then longingly eyed the biscuits. “May I?” He reached for one when Astrid nudged the parcel toward him without a word, and ate it with obvious delight. “Mmh, that’s good. Not sure when I last ate anything.” He took another one, and only continued speaking once it was gone, too. “I’m okay. Tired. Overworked. Usually, I wouldn’t take a nap at this time of day, but Master Mulch insisted on it. He claimed that I’ve been on my feet for over thirty hours – and the fact that I don’t know whether that’s true is probably proof enough. But there’s just so much to do! It’s like these men are actually out on getting severely injured. More than one even asked whether he’d keep a ‘cool scar’ out of it.” He shook his head and helped himself to another pastry.

Or others are out to get them injured, she thought, grimacing as she again remembered Thuggory’s sneer. She shuddered, but ignored Fishlegs’ inquisitive look. “So, what kind of injuries do you have to treat? Mostly cuts, I assume?”

“Aye. Or that’s my job, at least, while Master Mulch treats the more urgent injuries,” he nodded, then intently looked at her. “Do you remember how to treat such a cut?”

Astrid chuckled, surprising herself with the sound. It felt odd, as if her being happy was some form of betrayal. But that was a stupid thought; Ruff had been right in insisting for her to get distracted would do her good. And she also was incredibly grateful for Fishlegs to catch up on her mood so quickly.

“I think so?” she replied to his question, focussing on what he’d taught her. “First, you have to clean the wound, with clear water or maybe strong alcohol. Then you put willow bark tincture on it, for disinfection and against the pain. Depending on how deep the cut is, you might need to sew it shut with a good needle. At last, you cover the wound with moss to soak up blood, put a tight-enough cast around it, and threaten the patient with your eternal wrath in case they don’t give the wound enough rest to heal properly,” she recited Fishlegs’ former lesson – even though the last bit was her own addition. It had the desired effect as it made him laugh and congratulate her on still remembering.

They chatted for a while longer, with Astrid feeling lighter by the minute, until Heather joined them. She looked even more tired than her husband had, and gracelessly slumped onto the bench next to him. At first, she eyed the pastries Astrid had brought with a slightly wrinkled nose, but then shrugged and picked one to nibble on.

“Hey, love. Had a good rest?” Fishlegs asked, then jumped up, startling Astrid. “Wait, I’ll make you a mug of that herbal tea. Astrid, what about you?”

“Sure, why not,” she replied with an amused smile, then turned her attention back to Heather. “Lots of work for you too, I guess?”

Again, Heather shrugged. “Yes, but it’s manageable, all in all. Mostly providing refreshments for those watching the tournament and preparing and preserving whatever them men bring from those hunts. It’s not like the crazy increase of work Justin has.”

Astrid raised an eyebrow at her, which made the other woman chuckle.

“Yes, yes, I know what you’re thinking. I say that, but still, here I am, looking as if I’d been up for over three days straight.” She shook her head, a soft smile spreading over her face. “But I still say it’s not the work. I’m just kinda always tired lately. Maybe I’ve caught some bug, or so. It’ll pass.”

Before Astrid could reply anything, Fishlegs returned and placed a steaming mug in front of each. “So, here you go. But I’ve gotta leave you now. I’m sure we’ll get new patients once the hunting party returns, and I need to help Master Mulch prepare for that. Bye, Astrid. Was great to see you again.” He waved at her, bent to kiss Heather goodbye, and left.

Astrid reached for her mug, and hummed. She knew that the brew was too hot to drink it yet, but she could still enjoy the heat as part of the comfort around her, and she basked in it all, in this small sanctuary.

Until Heather brutally tore her back into reality.

“So, you’re getting married,” she stated.

It wasn’t a question, and when Astrid threw her a short baffled look before quickly averting her gaze she thought she detected a strange expression in Heather’s eyes. Pity, determination, and… satisfaction? But no, she certainly had imagined that last one, she thought and shook her head, chiding herself. She, too, was overly tired and exhausted, that was all. “Yes,” she breathed, the only answer she could think of. What else was she supposed to reply anyway? It wasn’t a secret, after all. Not anymore.

Heather watched her for a minute, quietly, and then sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said, sounding weirdly formal. “I remember what we talked about some while ago, and… Well, judging by how you haven’t openly proclaimed your love yet and your gloomy mood… I guess the one you had feelings for isn’t someone your father would approve of?”

Astrid pressed her lips shut, her hands around the mug tightening. This was not why she’d come here. She didn’t want to talk about this, about him, didn’t want to think. She wasn’t strong enough for that, not yet. “No, he’s not,” she mumbled weakly. “And-and it’s over anyway.” Saying it out loud, now that she knew it was true, hurt even more, and she hoped that Heather would drop the topic now. But apparently, she wasn’t that lucky.

“I see,” Heather sighed. “Well, again, I’m sorry for you. But this is part of what I meant, you know? When you asked me about how it feels to be in love and I told you to be careful? And it’s probably better this way anyway, that it’s over I mean.” She sighed again. “Gods, I sound heartless. I’d apologise, but what I wan– what I need to tell you won’t sound any better to you.”

Astrid wanted to make her stop talking, to order her if necessary, but she couldn’t find her voice. Unbiddenly, just thinking about him made images and memories flash through her mind, of his shining eyes when he smiled, of his touch when he cradled her cheek, of his warmth when he held her in his embrace. They flooded through her, leaving her powerless to rein them back in, and only Heather’s voice – even as it had caused this in the first place – was able to tear her out of it again.

“The thing is… I know that a marriage out of love is one of the best things that can happen to a person. But you are more than just an ordinary person! You aren’t just responsible for your own happiness, but also for that of your people. And even though I wouldn’t want to begrudge you a love match… I want to ask you to make a prudent choice. Please, think of your people.”

Astrid was trembling, but with the painful memories had also come the numbness of the last few days. As if her body and mind reacted on reflex, shutting down to ward off any harm. “What exactly are you asking of me?” she heard herself ask, her eyes on the little waves on the tea’s surface.

Heather gave a deep sigh. “I… I want to ask you to marry Dagur – or his horse-crazy boyfriend, if necessary. These two… with their impossible relationship and their refusal to marry and take responsibility, they’re a bigger threat to the Kingdom’s stability that those pathetic Malarians who can’t do anything but be an annoying pain at the border. Please, I-I’m begging you. It is within your power to separate them and end this selfish infatuation of theirs that so easily can turn half the Kingdom into chaos. Marry Dagur and give him an heir. It’s w-what the people need!”

There was a heavy silence once Heather stopped talking. To Astrid, it felt oppressive, like a thick blanket smothering everything; every sound, her thoughts, her movements, even the air to breathe. Only slowly, she managed to raise her head and to look at the other woman.

Heather was clearly afraid of having spoken her mind so openly. She was watching her with wide eyes, one hand over her mouth to cover it, the other wrapped around herself in something like a protective gesture. It was a funny sight, in a way. This woman, who had adamantly fought expectations and the people who had wanted to keep her in the place she’d been born into, was afraid of her, a powerless puppet who wasn’t even allowed to choose what she was wearing? It was ridiculous.

But Astrid felt too numb to laugh. Instead, she silently gazed at the woman who she’d thought of as a friend until now. “Thanks for the tea,” she eventually whispered, let go of the untouched mug, and rose to her feet to leave.

In passing, she heard Heather mumble another “I’m sorry!” but she wasn’t in a condition to accept the words.

Tuff looked up in surprise when she appeared next to him, but quickly caught on to her mood after he caught her expression. “Guess that didn’t go as Ruff hoped, eh? What a surprise… You wanna go back?”

Astrid nodded and mutely followed Tuff back to her chambers. And all the while, her head was spinning around what Heather had said.

How dare she? How dare she ask something like this of her? Essentially, it was the same thing the King had asked of her, the same he had suggested. But marrying Dagur – or Eret or Snotlout for that matter – that was insane! How could people even think of this option? It was ridiculous, and wrong, and simply impossible.

. o O o .

No matter how much Astrid tried to dismiss Heather’s suggestion as pure idiocy, the thought kept popping up in her mind at the weirdest of moments. Over and over, she mulled it over in her head, all the reasons why it was a stupid idea and could never work out. It was annoying – but she was still grateful for it. Thinking about this kept her mind occupied and prevented her from drowning in pain. At night, she was still helpless to the onslaught of memories, crying until she had no tears left, but at least during the day she was managing better now. And during dinner two days later, she was even able to pay attention to what happened around her again.

“Hey, Dag. Could you hand me the cheese plate?”

The question came from Snot next to her, and Astrid reacted without thinking as she reached for the plate that stood right in front of her and pushed it over to him.

“Uh… thanks, Astrid,” Snot grunted, clearly perplexed.

She gave him a nod and something like a small smile, then looked around into the astonished but smiling faces of her brothers. “What?” she asked, a little defensively. It wasn’t as if she usually was too proud to help either.

Eret’s smile softened a little. “Nothing. It’s just good to have you back.” She frowned, but he didn’t elaborate and she was grateful for that. She really hadn’t been here lately, had she?

With a low sigh, she reached for a bread roll and the cheese as well. She did it out of reflex, to not get scolded again for eating too little, and only after taking a first bite did she realise how hungry she actually was. Maybe Ruff had been right after all. Maybe it was time for her to accept the lot fate had dealt her and roll with it. As always, the thought came with a hidden, painful sting, but she refused to let it hit her, to even let the tiniest of thoughts about… about this topic reach her consciousness. She might be more composed now, but she certainly wasn’t strong enough for that. So when Eret addressed the older men at the other end of the table a minute later, she happily focused all her attention on their conversation.

“Uncle Spitelout? I know I’m asking this every night, but have you received any news from Daniel today?”

At that, Astrid looked up with real interest now. Whenever Spitelout was at the castle, he happily took over overseeing the royal pigeonry for the time being. She’d never understood his fascination with the birds, but then, everybody needed a hobby, she assumed. It made him happy and also meant that he was always informed about what kind of messages had left or reached the castle through the homing pigeons. And even with how twisted her thoughts about Daniel were these days, she was still eager to hear from him.

However, Spitelout, who’d just pushed his plate away with a clearly satisfied sigh, just gave a little grunt and shook his head. “Sorry, boy, but there still was no answer. The last time we heard from him was a week ago when he informed us that everything goes as planned.” He shrugged. “Beyond that, ‘No news are good news’. Besides, who knows whether your message has even reached him yet? My birds only fly to their nests in Westhill, after all, and from there a courier would have to be sent out to find him and deliver your message – and while we know where the Prince is supposed to be, itineraries in that region can be seen as little more than polite suggestions.”

“Looks like you’ll have to wait until he’s back, son,” Eret II added with an amused smile. “Just be a little patient, he’ll be back in two weeks anyway.”

Eret grunted, but didn’t ask anything else, and instead focused on his overly full plate.

Astrid had watched the short exchange with a bit of apparently obvious bewilderment, so Dagur, who seemed to have caught her puzzled look, now leaned over to explain in a low voice. “Eret sent a pigeon with a message to Westhill, a day or two after… well, after this whole mess started. I read a part of it and it was hilarious; a collection of not-very-nice insults and the repeated demand for what in the name of Hel’s pale tit Daniel had been thinking.” He shrugged, grinning. “To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if Daniel chose not to answer. I certainly wouldn’t. Either way, their next meeting is going to be fun. Chippy was fuming in the beginning, and I bet he’s still not entirely calmed down, though don’t ask me what exactly it was that had set him off like that. He didn’t even tell me.”

She threw a glance at Eret, and the tight grip with which he held his cutlery and the slightly troubled grimace on his face seemed to prove Dagur’s words true. It made her wonder. Sure, she didn’t have the most sisterly feelings for Daniel these days either; his knowing about this plan and not telling her felt like too much of a betrayal. But it made little sense for Eret to have the same reasons for his anger. She didn’t get the chance to further wonder about his behaviour though.

“I’ve got to agree, it’s good to have you back among the living,” came suddenly Snot’s voice from beside her, and when she turned to look at him, he had a wide grin on his face. “And since the kitchen provided us with this dish tonight... May I suggest you try this cold venison? It’s deer prepared after a recipe our chef in Westhill developed, and it is delicious.”

Perplexed, she watched as Snot placed a piece of the rosy meat onto her plate before she could even react. Then she grimaced, and shook her head. “No, thanks. No venison for me,” she mumbled. Snot couldn’t know her feelings there, of course. But she simply wasn’t able to eat any form of venison – or meat in general – lately. Not since her birthday.

“Snot, you really are an idiot, do you know that?” Dagur commented dryly as he reached over to pick the venison off her plate and devoured it whole. The sight made a small amused smile tug at her lips. Good manners weren’t exactly one of Dagur’s strong assets – and probably never would be.

Snot huffed, but didn’t further react to Dagur. Instead, he turned his attention back to Astrid and the cheese plate between them. “I’m sorry, how thoughtless of me. But… well, then how about this?” He cut off a piece of soft cheese with a greyish-yellow rind and held it out for her with a broad smile. “Father and I brought this on your father’s request; he liked it a lot the last time he visited Westhill. It has a rich and piney flavour that only develops when the cheese gets extra time to age.”

Hesitantly and with a slight frown, Astrid accepted the offered cheese, more out of reflex than of real interest. What was up with Snot? It wasn’t as if she didn’t know this behaviour from him; focussing all his attention on one person, being friendly and observant while more or less subtly advertising himself, his family, or his home. But so far, he’d never directed it at her! Was he actually flirting with her? He couldn’t be serious, could he? Surely, he had to be joking, overacting to throw it back into their fathers’ faces… right?

She looked at him, trying to detect something in his expression, a twitch of his lips maybe or an amused spark in his eyes. But there was nothing. Still trying to make sense of Snot’s behaviour, she took a bite of the cheese, but couldn’t help but grimace at the weirdly unctuous taste. “Urgh, sorry, but I think I’ll pass this one,” she said in as polite a tone as she could muster. She kind of appreciated Snot’s attention as it served as a good distraction, but it still left a strange aftertaste.

Hoping he would leave her be now, she wanted to reach for her glass of wine, but sighed when she found it empty.

“Here, let me get you a refill,” Snot directly prompted. He reached for one of the wine carafes at the end of the table, and before she could even blink her glass was filled again. “This one is another speciality we brought from Westhill, and if I remember correctly, you quite liked this one. ‘Rich-yet-not-overpowering berry fruit flavour surrounded with hints of cassis and cherry’ was your description, I think.”

Despite her annoyance at his renewed attention, Astrid couldn’t help but feel grateful, both for the wine and that he’d remembered. She tried a sip, and couldn’t help but hmm. The rich liquid tasted wonderful and made her relax almost instantly. Before she knew how, the glass was empty, and with a low, regretful sigh, she placed it back onto the table. She didn’t want to get drunk, couldn’t afford it, but the idea of getting rid of all her problems, if only for a few hours, was alluring. And the wine really did taste good.

So she didn’t object when Snot got her another refill, and didn’t even mind him directly diving into his next story about all the formidable vineyards they had in Westhill and how much more they could have.

With a resigned sigh, she settled on sipping her wine and tried to drone out his monologue. A part of her tried to reason that he certainly didn’t mean to annoy her into anger with his apparent flirting. Maybe she was just too over-sensitive and strained right now to detect the signs of joking.

Because he couldn’t be serious, right? He couldn’t be actually flirting with her. No matter what their fathers wanted, he was still her brother! But the longer the dinner lasted, the more plain his advances became and the more she wished to get away from him. Snot, like all of her brothers, had always been a source of comfort to her, but tonight she felt the opposite.

His behaviour reminded her of the impossible implication of her marrying one of them. Although, at least Snot didn’t seem to think it impossible, even though the thought made her shudder. Marrying one of her brothers… that was completely insane!

Wasn’t it?

 . o O o .

Right...Yeah, it still feels like not much has happened in this chapter, but it's actually been a lot, I think. Many little things, development, preparation...Sorry if it sucks...

And I promise this is still very much a Hiccstrid story!

*jumps back into hiding*

Next chapter

[immediatehearts]

“One of the happiest moments ever is when you find the courage to let go of what you can’t change”

You know, during my younger years when I was a teenage kid; I was a carefree-whatever kid. I didn’t pay much attention to my looks, my clothing taste, my hair style, nor money. I was always curious about my next adventure outside riding bike or how fast I can roller blade ‘today’ than ‘yesterday’. Just doing outside activities like what any normal kid did back then (who stayed away from drugs and drama people).

Of course I cannot forget to mention that in middle school (then) I thought I knew the love of my life. (lol, right? But I’m sure I’m not the only one). Getting exposed to middle school puppy love/romance was probably the weirdest shit that has ever happened to me because it was such a confusing time. Fell in love, had my first heart break, but then we were still close friends. Either I was going through some tough shit or I thought the world revolved around me.

I met him in 6th grade in my home room. I don’t think I cared too much about him until I was put in a lot of group activities. We became mutual friends at first and then I started to fall for him because of his quirky humor. He was a pale skin hmong boy with black hair that was always combed straight up in the front. I remember he always wore his gold pendant his parents bought for him. Said it was lucky. I had one too with the initial “S” that my parents bought for me. My mom told me “If you ever lose this necklace, I will slice you into pieces!” It didn’t take me long before I summoned all my courage to tell him in the most secretive way-a letter. (I know, so lame. But it works without me really being there to say it. It’s like facing a confrontation but hiding while speaking).

He wasn’t too surprised. In fact, he felt awkward, I felt awkward, and at the same time, we still talked and joked about things like normal. It was always awkward but I guess to me, it wasn’t because I got to be around him as much as possible and he never once pushed me away. I remember he did tell me he would give us going out a try but ended up backing out and we stayed as good friends while I was still very much infatuated with him.

Anyway, besides puppy love and heartache, I also went through my first “back stabbed” with my Best Friend with the one and only guy I liked all 3 years in middle school. It was our 8th grade year together. It first started with the “Oh, who do you like?”, “Let me talk to him for you and tell him you like him.”, “I’ll get him to go out with you.” That sort of naive, cheesy, cliche thing. She had this one class with him and I guess she was my best friend too so I said alright. I had high hopes. I had imagined that in a couple of weeks, he was going walk up and be interested in me. But as the days went by, he didn’t talk to me as much anymore. He avoided me and was so damn shady. I would ask my best friend why she thinks he was like that and she would tell me “oh, may be he is being shy.” I believed her.

I don’t remember when I started suspecting, But eventually, I had a gut feeling that I was envious of my best friend having class with him and being able to talk to him. Because I would see how they both spoke and joked with each other and I felt like I knew it right before my eyes but I wanted to protect my friendship. I pushed the thought of the possibility of “what if” in and out of my mind. If it was true, what would I do? He was the one I liked and she was my best friend through thick and thin. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I told myself many times that if it was true; what I was thinking was true, I would let my best friend be happy before me. I would let my feelings go for her to receive his. I was really messed up inside. I’m so sure I was developing a depression of some sort. I just didn’t know how to answer these teenage emotions while at the same time walking in those teenage shoes carrying on day by day doing everyday things that just went through me.

However, there was a break to rest the case. There was a moment of truth so clear that I had to take my chances to know the honest truth of what was between my best friend and my crush, I should of known better that it was not just a friend helping a friend out. It seemed like it was becoming a stupid triangle love drama.

It was science class. The last class of the hour. It was the only class that my best friend and I were lucky enough to be assigned to sit together. Those dopey school planners where if you were a cooler kid if your planner had awesome folded papers in triangle 3d flaps, or if you did pretty bubble letters all over the agenda. You were the coolest one if you started a picture book in the planner with your Qstudio pictures with your colorful marker boarder corners. yeah, that kind of shit. (I know ya’ll know what I’m talking about).

Anyway, she was feeling especially happy in science class. I think we spoke on a lot of topics about family and fan crushing korean/chinese actors and then; she said to me “ I like someone. but I can’t tell you who it is.” I kept nagging her to tell me because duh, we are best friends. why would she not tell me? So then she opened her planner and said, “if you can read this, you will know who it is.” I took one look at the letter art and shit.. it was a fucking mess. there were circles, swerves, curves, thick lines, thin lines, dark pencil marks and light marks, it was a very huge piece of letter art. She told me she would only give me 1 minute to figure it out. But I had already knew.

Sometime later in the year, my best friend started to become an emotional roller coaster around me. Some days she was in a good mood and some days, she just shut everything out and was quiet for the whole day. Nevertheless, she was always so happy when she was going to the class my crush was in. I had asked her out of the blue what was going on with her and why was she so moody all the time. She did cry a few times when I tried getting through to her. but it was then that she told me she was sorry. I felt my body go weak because I knew what she was going to say.. I was waiting for her to say it. I wanted to hear her say it. I told myself I would not hate her if it was true and that she would still be my best friend no matter how hard the truth was going to hurt. I really just needed to hear it.

She told me she fell for my crush and he fell for her too. He wanted them to date and even though she would of liked that, she felt bad for me and because I was her best friend, it was wrong. So she turned him down and didn’t know what to do. I think we both cried and had a long conversation about it. I really, truly valued my friendship with my best friend. I did not want to lose my friend because of something so foolish. I was angry, I was upset, I was disappointed, and I was every kind of emotion at that time. I didn’t know what to say or do but I knew that I had the truth and I had to go on. Let it go. Life goes on..

My best friend and I; we got through that hoop. Not long afterwards when seasons change and classes are shuffled again with different people, my best friend was normal again. I believe it was the huge amount of guilt that made her felt the way she did. Because like I said; not long afterwards, she fell for some other hmong guy (believe me, she was nuts). But she okay. 

As for my crush; I wasn’t into him anymore. It took time but not too long. Eventually, I started to fall out of love for him because there was nothing to love anymore. I realized the grass is greener on the other side. I met new people, I grew in touch with old friends and I was okay being with just me because I was excited for high school. The last time I ever spoke to my middle school crush was when I was moving to another city and 8th grade was ending. I made thirteen paper hearts and I asked him to meet me at the creek bridge by the school. I lived two blocks so I walked there and he biked there. I believe the universe has its way of tickling people. Because while I was sending paper hearts off as my good byes to him, He was turning around back for me. I have no regrets.

Why I retell this often because through it all, I started there. When I wasn’t a kid anymore. When I started my journey. “It makes you or breaks you”

Thank you for reading my long experience. One I will always remember because it has taught me self-love, friendship, and courage.

[twdmusicboxmystery]

Season 8 Opening Credits - Just Wow!

Okay Peeps! How is everyone's week. I must confess my head has been absolutely SPINNING with TWD stuff this week, and I've gotten little else done. Welcome to October, yeah?  

So I've been promising to do a post about the opening credits. Even though I've watched the episode 3x now, I really haven't paid attention to the opening credits. I knew I'd have to sit down and focus on them specifically, and because I couldn't do that before, I didn't bother.

I honestly didn't expect of find more than one or two things to talk about, and maybe analyze new character cards. Boy was I wrong! The opening credits are actually very intriguing and can tell us a lot about what to expect moving forward.

I'm just gonna move through the images in the opening sequence chronologically.

1. The Beth running flash is still there. If we're being totally honest, I would have read into it either way. If it was gone, I would have seen it as evidence of her imminent return. The fact that it's there simply tells me her escape arc is still in play. Still, worth mentioning. Once again, if she's dead and gone, why is this flash still in the opening credits. Cards, images and names for deceased characters generally disappear immediately after their demise, with a few notable exceptions.  

2. Rick's/Andy's card is still the same. He's still the sheriff with the red-handled machete. I think it's especially interesting because, though that's been his card since S5, I actually think it will change after this season. But more on that later.

3. Daryl's/Norman's card (vest through tire spokes) is also the same. @thegloriouscollectorlady pointed out something interesting to me. She said that we see Dwight wearing Daryls' vest through the spokes of a tire in 8x01, which is a direct link to this opening credits image. To me, it just shows that Daryl's arc has been planned for at least as long as this has been his opening credits card. So the arc from S5 on is still going.

4. Then we have Lauren Cohan's card which remains the same. Not much to say about hers.

5. Then Chandler Riggs' card, which is also the same. Two things I want to point out here, despite there being no change. 

A) His image comes from Morgan's residence in Clear, which may suggest that his and Morgan's arcs are intertwined. If you've read spoilers lately, you may be able to guess what I mean by that. 

B) Morgan's wall being used here is actually a good example of what I mentioned above. If Morgan died, but Carl remained, I think they would change Chandler's image here because Morgan was no longer in play. Yet, even when we didn't know it in S4, Morgan was still in play, so it's okay to use this image. Again, Beth's flash shouldn't be in the opening credits if she's not still in play.

6. Danai's/Michonne's symbol has actually changed. It used to be an architectural framework. Now it's a closeup of the symbol on her katana. Not sure what to make of that, but I think it signals a change for her. Her sword has often been a physical symbol of her mental state. She put the sword up above the fireplace in Alexandria as a symbol that she wanted to move away from using it. She took it down again when it became obvious their lives wouldn't remain entirely peaceful.

7. Melissa McBride/Carol's symbol of the knife handle remains the same. Again, I think it just shows that her arc is still going. Changes will occur in her arc, but it's not a whole new arc for her.

8. We do see the baby shoes in a very quick flash still, but there's no name attached. Especially because of the Beth as Protector of Children stuff, it's been suggested that this might be a place holder for where Emily's name will go when she returns. 

Just a theory, but I think it's a really good one. Why? Michael Cudlitz. 

I've always said he was a major Beth proxy. And even in terms of the opening credits we've seen it before. His name was only in the dark tunnel during 5b, and then it came out for S6, replaced by Sonequa's. I've always seen that as a resurrection thing. A name who was in the dark tunnel (marked for death) who will be resurrected. Obviously because of how he died, Abraham isn't coming back. But who was he a proxy for? Exactly. And where did MC's name go when it left the dark tunnel? (The above pic is from the opening credits of S6). To the baby shoes card. So it makes total sense that when Beth comes out of the dark tunnel (death), Emily's name will appear on the baby shoes card.

9. Lennie James's card for Morgan remains the same as well. I think this is interesting because it's an image of the forest, but it phases in and out of focus, much like Morgan's view of the world did in 6x04 when he was still dealing with PTSD. This is a representation of that. Morgan came out of his PTSD with Eastman, but since the end of S7 when he lost Benjamine, he's back to that same darkness, even if he's still functioning better than he was. They made a big deal about this on TTD as well. That Morgan, who didn't believe in taking life, is killing without hesitation now in 8x01. Doesn't bode well for Morgan.

10. Alanna Masterson's image HAS changed, and that’s interesting. 

Remember before that her tag had the boat. (Season 8 above, Season 7 below.)

That made sense as her arc in S7 was all about Oceanside. That, it seems, has changed. I don't think she'll be going back to Oceanside. They may come to her, of course, but I don't think her arc will revolve around them this season. 

I'm really starting to wonder if we'll lose Tara soon. I don't want that to happen, but I feel like especially this season, Tara is being used as a stand-in for Beth. There's this promo pic:

Think of Beth's line, "I'm not Michonne, I'm not Carol, I'm not Maggie, but I made it!" The three ladies are even in the right order here, so I feel like Tara is a stand in. Then there's Tara and Carol on the bridge together in 8x01. 

It really felt to me like a parallel to Beth and Carol at Grady. So again, Tara = stand in. And that implies that when Beth returns, Tara's arc will close. Now, I don't think her image card here necessarily implies that. All we can really say is that it doesn't suggest Oceanside anymore. The satellite station implies that her entire arc will be about attacking the saviors. But who knows where that could lead?

11. Josh McDermitt's is the same as last season: the bullet factory.

12. Christian Seratos/Rosita's has changed as well. Last season, she had broken windows. 

This season, guns:

Hard to say what the guns imply, other than just war/battle/warrior stuff. I think the broken windows make sense for last season. Poor Rosita did a lot of emotional breaking last season. First Abraham, then Spencer (I know she wasn't in love with him, but they had a relationship and seeing him gutted still had to mess her up) and then Sasha. So maybe that was very much her character breaking. Maybe the guns represent a strong, warrior Rosita this season, which I would be all for. Christian also did an interview recently (HERE) where she talked about Rosita being a warrior on her own and not getting into another relationship. Her character has always depended on men in some way (as she told Sasha in 7x16) and not she needs to stand alone for a while. (Which Denise foreshadowed, btw.) So the guns may symbolize Rosita’s autonomy.

13. Seth Gilliam/Father Gabriel's may be the most fascinating to me. Look at this image. The dark tunnel card (which Beth, Tyreese, Sasha, and Abraham were all in at some point) has disappeared entirely. I'll talk about that in a minute. But this is a tunnel of sorts. It looks like a sewer tunnel that lets out into the woods. You can even see water pouring out at the bottom. The thing about this tunnel is that it's not dark. And it’s the outside of the tunnel rather than the inside. Someone walking out of this tunnel would be walking out of the darkness and into the light. And then there's that water. (Oceanside perhaps?)

And I know that this card is for FG, not Beth, but I’m still seeing TD stuff here. As I said on Monday, I do think he's being a proxy for her in 8x01 (left behind by Rick, ends up with Negan; they even specifically show Rick making the decision to leave without him, and Daryl suggesting otherwise, but ultimately going along with it.) Then there is the strawberry stuff and all the other ways he's been paralleled with her. For the most part, FG parallels have been subtle, but they're there. So I'm seriously side-eyeing this image.

14. Ross Marquand – So Aaron is officially a mainstream series regular. There's never been a card for him before. Looks to me like one of the ruined houses outside of Alexandria's gates, with a ruined car in the foreground. Yeah, that could portend just about anything.

15. JDM/Negan's remains the same with the fire, bat, and iron.

16. So then we go into images that don't have character/actor names on them at the end. Most are ones we've seen before, including walkers pounding on a boarded up window, 

three lights, which I believe are from Woodbury, 

melted candles, 

the bloody ax, 

the doors from 1x01 

and this brick building. 

Also sunlight through the trees.

17. HERE’S THE BIG CHEESE! Are you guys ready for this one? Look at this crazy image. 

We have NEVER seen this in the opening credits before. If you look at the line and circle drawn on it, this is obviously the D.C. map Abraham drew for Rick in S5. See? 

Now, we have seen a map in the opening credits before. In previous seasons, it looked like this: 

which is interesting because it's an upside-down mirror image of the first. (Kind of like the clocks we’ve seen recently?) We always thought that meant something was backwards, a time-screw thing, etc. Now, the D.C. map is being burnt. Like, "we should burn it down?" The famous burner-downer (totally a word) of things is coming to D.C. this season? I actually think we can read a LOT of different things into this. I think it has to do with recent spoilers that came out, with season 4, and with both Rick and Beth's arcs. I'm not going to get into that right now, but this image is SUPER important!

18. The final images we see are crows in the tree, which have always been there, and then the TWD logo. 

I've had people ask about the fact that it's still decomposing. In the promos, it was white, remember? Which seemed like a resurrection symbol. All I can say is that I don't know. Maybe it won't turn white for the opening credits until after she returns. My hunch right now, again for reasons I won't go into in this post, is that maybe it will turn white after the MSF. I'll talk about this more in later posts, but for now, I'm not entirely sure. It doesn't threaten my faith in Beth's return, though. I mean, she didn't come back in ep 1, so there's no reason to show the white logo there. And it could be that the promo of the white logo was to show what to expect for the season, but they actually won't ever turn it white in the opening credits. It was just symbolic. Who knows?

19. Finally, let's talk about the dark tunnel card being gone and why that's important for TD. We said after Sasha's death that now all people (Beth, Tyreese, Sasha, and Abraham) who were in that tunnel are now dead. If they'd kept the dark tunnel card and merely put another character in, it wouldn't have been good for TD. That would have meant that they just use that card to show who the next major death will be. So if, for example, Danai's name suddenly appeared in that tunnel (really just throwing an arbitrary name out) it would mean that she'll be the next major death and Beth's name being in there was nothing special. Obviously not a good thing for Beths' return. 

But that's not what happened. The card is gone, which suggests what they used it for is over and we're moving onto the next thing. Also remember that, three out of four of those characters are obviously dead and not coming back. Three of them (Ty, Sasha, and Abe) had injuries it would be impossible to survive, and we saw deaths, burials and funerals for all three. Beth is the odd one out. The thing that doesn't fit. For her, they chose an injury that, while definitely traumatic, CAN be easily survived. We didn't see her a funeral or burial for her, and didn't even see another closeup of her face after death. 

Then there's the fact that not only did the dark tunnel card disappear, but they put in another one (Father Gabriel's) of the outside of happy woodland tunnel. With water flowing out of it. Then there's the Abraham/Baby shoes card. 

See what I mean? Everything about the changes in the opening credits is good for TD. I'm more certain than ever that Beth is not only on her way, she’s circling the neighborhood.

[dubsism]

Today’s Movie:  Hollywood Air Force (also released as “Weekend Warriors”)

Year of Release: 1986

Stars: Chris Lemmon, Vic Tayback, Lloyd Bridges

Director: Bert Convy

This movie is not on my list of essential films.

NOTE: This installment of Sports Analogies Hidden In Classic Movies is being done as part of something called the Second So Bad It’s Good Blog-A-Thon being hosted by Taking Up Room. I keep telling her this will easily be the worst movie in this event, but she thinks the competition is stiffer than I think.  You’ll have to be the judge; you can see all the contributors to this blog-a-thon here:

Days One, Two And Three

The Story:

If we were to have a contest as to the bona fides for a bad movie, I would bet a large amount of money I win on this one phrase:

“Produced and directed by Bert Convy.”   

When you have a D-:List comedy bankrolled and directed by a 1970s/80s game-show host…well, doesn’t “bad” just seem to be in the cards?

If that’s not enough, let’s talk about this movie’s first-class pedigree for “bad.” The best way to describe it is the 1950s kids from the “teen” comedy “Porky’s” grew up, graduated, and ended up in the “Cold War” American military of the 1960s. But fret not, you fans of the “Porky’s” franchise…this movie still comes with a full complement of bawdy sex and bodily-function jokes, complete with a bad-taste-defining “hula dance” and a “fart-lighting” scene.

The plot is equally as formulaic; it’s all about the protagonist and his buddies and the perennial struggles against authority. In the case of “Porky’s,” “authority” comes in the form of overweight gym teachers and morbidly-obese brothel owners.  Naturally, “Hollywood Air Force” replaces those with the “out-to-get-everybody” Congressman Ernest W. Balljoy (played by Graham Jarvis) and the stoogish Sergeant Elroy Burdge (played by Vic Tayback).

Sergeant Elroy Burdge…”the world’s ugliest hot fudge sundae.”

Set in the height of the Cold War in 1961, “Hollywood Air Force” revolves around an Air National Guard unit based in Southern California comprised of an exceptionally not-very-military group of misfit Hollywood actors, writers, stuntmen, make-up artists, and various studio personnel. The one thing they all in have in common is they joined the Air National Guard in order to avoid being drafted into full-time active military service; hence the alternative title “Weekend Warriors.”

The leader of this group of misfits who when not spending his weekends as part of the California Air National Guard’s 73rd Transport Wing is a Hollywood screenwriter named Vince Tucker (played by Chris Lemmon…yes, he’s the son of Jack...).

Lloyd Bridges, Bert Cony, and Chris Lemmon

Flyer Tucker and his band of merry airmen fall into disfavor with the visiting Congressman Balljoy when he walks into some of their shenanigans during an inspection of the 73rd’s base. As a result, Balljoy announces in a national press release that the 73rd is ready to be called up for active Air Force duty to meet a looming threat as the Soviets are actively building the Berlin Wall.

However,it is Balljoy’s intent to have the 73rd not only out of his district, but sent to an isolated Pacific island. To avoid this, the unit must pass a full Air National Guard readiness inspection; otherwise they will be called up to active duty and lose their status as “Weekend Warriors.” (Yeah, I know that doesn’t make much sense. You would think failing the inspection would get them sent somewhere for training, but that’s one of several reasons why this is a bad movie.)

But this is where they put the “Hollywood” in “Hollywood Air Force.” Led by Tucker, the men of the 73rd come up with a plan that will thwart Balljoy and insure they remain in California. They use their connections to hire an entire Hollywood production company using it’s “magic” to portray the 73rd as a top-notch transport unit.

The show is a success, Tucker and the 73rd dazzle the Air Force brass, Congressman Balljoy and his guest, a stone-faced Romanian ambassador, whose presence is another thing which makes no sense. Balljoy fully expected the 73rd to be the Air Guard’s answer to the Keystopne Kops, so why would you have him there knowing full well he would report back to the Soviets what a bunch of stumble-bums the American military was?

Here’s the bottom line. If you can get past the stuff that just doesn’t add up, and if you want to laugh at the same kind of stuff you did when you were 12, this movie won’t disappoint.

If nothing else, you can get a few chuckles out of the 73rd’s commanding officer, Colonel Archer…he’s basically Lloyd Bridges reprising the “picked the wrong week to quit smoking guy” from “Airplane!” spiced with a few dashes of “Colonel Klink.”

  The Hidden Sports Analogy:

“The Luftwaffe…the Washington Generals of the History Channel” ~ Homer Simpson

At first, this may sound strange, but there’s an art to being a professional loser. After all, nobody sets out to lose every night. The most inept sports teams throught history all had one thing in common. Be they the 1962 New York Mets, the 2008 Detroit Lions, or the 1972 Philadelphia 76ers just to name a few…well, they all had one thing in common. They were all trying to win.

You can’t say the same for the Washington Generals. For the better part of seven decades, the Generals’ job has been to play the foil to the clown princes of basketball, the Harlem Globetrotters. Granted, there was a script; the Generals weren’t supposed to win. They were the “straight man,” the “Abbott” the the Globetrotters’ “Costello.” The trick was there had to be enough legitimate basketball to make the gags work. The Generals would run up and down the floor with the Globetrotters and hit their share of shots for forty of forty-eight minutes, the other eight ear-marked for the Globetrotters’ half-court heaves, dribbling wizardry, the trademark confetti and ice-bucket tricks, all preceded by the passing-drill warm-ups to the dulcid tones of “Sweet Georgia Brown,”

The that was the formula; a few parts crowd work, a few parts tomfoolery, and a few parts actual basketball baked into a cake of pure entertainment…with the stars winning at the end.  Well…with the stars almost always winning.

A Harlem Globetrotters “game” was a bit like the basketball version of professional wrestling in terms of being more entertainment than sports and having a pre-determined ending.  But because it was basketball, maintaining the illusion of the game being somewhat “real” required the Washington Generals to look like they were trying to win when everybody expected they wouldn’t.  In fact, nobody lost more consistently than the Washington Generals or their various aliases (Boston Shamrocks, Atlantic City Seagulls, and Baltimore Rockets to name a few).  Regardless of name, they  have lost to the Globetrotters more than 17,000 times since 1952. The Generals long-time player/coach “Red” Klotz used to compare his team to Ginger Rogers; they had to keep up with the greatness of Fred Astaire, except doing it backwards and in heels.

That brings us to that “almost always” thing.  It was January 5th, 1971. when the Globetrotters faced off with the Generals at the University of Tennessee-Martin, The problem was the Globetrotters were without their featured star, Curly Neal.  Since he was the guy who filled most of the game with his dribbling ball-handling wizardry, the Globetrotters were without much of the gags present in the “show” part of the game.  As a result, they played this much more like an actual basketball game.

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It so happened that this would be the day the Generals (playing as the Jersey Reds) played a tremendous game. The had one of those days where everything went their way; they couldn’t miss shots if they tried. Next thing you know, they were leading the Globetrotters by 12 points with only a few minutes left in the game.  In an attempt to keep to the script, the Globetrotters mounted a comeback to take a 99-98 lead with only a few seconds left on the clock.

The Reds in-bounded the ball to “Red” Klotz, their 50-year old player/coach, who promptly tossed up a two-handed set shot that clanked around the rim, then dropped in to give the Reds a 100-99 lead as the buzzer sounded.

But much like a rigged Chicago election (or when the U.S. men’s basketball team got robbed in the gold medal game in the 1972 Olympics), there was some shenanigans involved in adding time to the clock to give the Globetrotters a chance for a last-second shot.  But despite being given several opportunities, the Globetrotters’ other main star Meadowlark Lemon bricked a bunch of close-in hook shots at the buzzer.  Finally, they ran out of reasons to extend the game without making it plainly obvious they were just trying to get the win for the Globetrotters, and the Reds/Generals were finally winners. The popular story is the crowd booed and children cried when the Globetrotters lost.

Klotz passed away in 2014, and despite being asked several times, he never admitted whether he was actually trying to make that shot.  It matters little, because for that brief moment in 1971, The Washington General conquered the Harlem Globetrotters’ world.

The Moral of The Story:

Sometimes being bad is the point; it takes talent to be reliably bad.  Just ask Bert Convy or the Washington Generals.

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Sports Analogies Hidden In Classic Movies – Volume 68: “Hollywood Air Force” Today's Movie:  Hollywood Air Force (also released as "Weekend Warriors") Year of Release: 1986…

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Contracts and Demands Part 4

        If you find any of the sections of stories I write interesting, I’ve tagged every story with “Isen” so if you search for Isen’s name you get every part I wrote.  If you have any questions about my stories, or want to tell me anything, go ahead and send me a message.

        Contracts and Demands Part 4

        The Royal archives was a massive library that took over an entire section of a tree, inside the palace grounds which was by five trees connected by walls. The Archives were only accessed through the courtyard, which was walled off from the rest of the city, protected by thick metal gates, and hundreds of guards armed to the teeth. The courtyard was covered in vines, and these vines connected the five trees together, creating walk ways, bridges and zip lines. I was watched intently by every guard I passed, but none talked to me and the guards were dead quiet, only the trees spoke in soft silence when the wind shifted the leaves.          The front doors of the archives were warded with enough wards to impress Lynn. The magic protecting the archives was immense, if I wasn’t let in by key and tried to break in. I’m sure I would have just exploded right where I stood. I wasn’t even let in by a guard, the doors only opened outwards and were locked from the inside. I was greeted by the head librarian an ancient tortoise, slow and careful in his movements as he leaned on a walker fashioned from wood, in the basket of the walker was a stack of ancient books. On his eyes were round rim glasses that gave him a rather comedic large eye effect. But I didn’t laugh, it would have been beyond rude. Elders as old as this tortoise were utterly respected. Mincridarins respected elders, treating them nearly like royals. When Mincridarins hit a certain point in age it was a huge deal, and you were respected even by royalty, at least in some regard. So to laugh or snicker at the large eyed glasses would have gotten me beaten by any Mincridarn nearby.          I waited for the tortoise to come closer, and he shifted closer I looked at his heavy and warm looking clothes, furred cloaks over his back from many kinds of beasts, and thick a scarf that was draped over his neck. A young female Avian followed behind him, with a simple clip board in hand, a megaphone on hip. The sparrow female wore subtle black silk robes much like a mages, and wore glasses upon her beak that were kept in place with small patch of paste, binding them to her beak. The glasses weren’t as large at the tortoises’ and were cut in half, simple gold framed reading glasses.          She looked up at me and brought the clipboard to side, the tortoise looked up at me and craned his head forward to look at me, craned his head back and adjusted his glassed before looking at me again. “The Queen told me about you, it’s good to see cub like you so interested in the Raven past, what a dark past, full of pain and misery.” The Head Librarian said softly pulling his head back after a moment. “It’s a pleasure to meet you sir.” I said giving a simple bow of respect, the old male looked at me confused and then the sparrow took out a large horn and brought it to her beak. “HE SAID IT WAS PLEASURE TO MEET YOU!” The female yelled loudly into the tortoise’s ear, and he nodded. “Pleasure to meet you as well cub, come we have plenty to review.”          I followed behind the reptile closely, it was annoying, because I was one stepping behind the old male, but one stepping allowed me to look around the library taking in the mass of knowledge that was kept inside the ten tall sectioned library, filled to the brim with books. Books new and old were visible, and the entire place was lit with five bright crystal chandeliers, spread around the room hanging at different levels. And on the tall bookshelves were crystal scones, bringing light to the room even more. The ten sections were connected by stairs at the back of the library, forming a V that went left and right and around the circular walls. Avian Mincridarins flew around the room taking care of papers, dodging the chandeliers with precision similar to dog fighting jet maneuvers.          The bottom floor where I walked were book shelves arranged in a circle with tables covered in papers and books in between; in the center of the main floor was a circular sitting area just as heavily covered by books and paper. We stepped closer to shelves which were branded with the Raven Royal Seal. The twin books shelves were as twice as tall as I was, and separated by five shelves. Along the book shelves were sliding ladders.           “All of this is related to the Raven history, their business transactions, a history of everyone they owned  and what they owned, summaries of the family members and lineage, Even a few personal books written by members of the family, and journals from the deceased. All of this history now belongs to you Master Dale, treat it with care. If you need any help with how to look for books please just ask. Also you are not to wander in the library, the queen has only given permission to open these books, all else are sealed. If you are to look into any books that don’t belong to the Raven family, you will be banned from ever entering again.” The tortoise warned as he looked up at me and I felt my head groaning. “I’m going to need help, this’ll take me years to go through.”          “Yes I’m sure it will, but this is the first time in all my years that I’ve met someone who wanted to review the entire family history. Sounds very fun.” The tortoise said with a happy little cough before starting to walk away. “I might as well start on the easy thing and start creating Excel spread sheets.” I groaned and shifted to the table and laid out my lap top bag and started up my computer and went to work.          The first thing I started with were giant books that contained the history of the families’ taxes and disclosed purchases and so on. If I was going to own the Raven name I needed to understand the burdens it came with, how much I truly owned and how much I was losing because of debts or something of that kind. So I just started to listening to music and working on what was in front of me. Each page in the ledgers were as long as my arm and written in a beautiful script that took some effort to get used to reading. I worked the full day typing and reviewing the first ledge, only leaving the Archives for bathroom breaks and to get food. A few slaves from the Brothel came with me when I returned, the only two that could read, and they followed me happily since I told them I’d end their contract if they helped me finish my review of the family title. When they saw the task I asked them to join me in they weren’t all that happy, but it was better than doing chores, and being around the abusive Raven.          It took me three days and I was only half-way through the first ledger, that amount of work showed me how often I’d need to be at the Archives, so I made it a point to come to the Archives after combat training and work with the two slaves. My life revolved in this circle, I was always busy, teaching, training and typing. Days turned to weeks, and then into months, and towards the end of the year a letter was hand delivered to me one weekend by a Regal gray feline dressed in purple. The court messenger, he stood by me as I flipped open the letter with my claw.          I read the short and prompt letter, it was an invitation to the ball being held in honor of the New Year, a day of celebration and prayer. The ball would be a week from now, on the finale day of the year. I didn’t want to attend, but I knew Raven and Ria would have my ass if I said that. I was a member of the royal court I had to attend, it was my duty. So I waved off the messenger and he left, and I tucked the letter into my bag. Before continuing my work on the ledgers.          When I told Ria and Raven about the ball they were ecstatic, and quickly bolted into action, they stopped me from going to library in order to train me to be more regal. For the next week, I wore a brace on my back that forced me to stand straight, I was trained how to dance and speak… None of it was pleasant. Though the one thing that was good, was that I wasn’t scared of spiders anymore, all the forced exposure forced me to accept the spider’s presence and get over it. I didn’t still like being around them, but I never pissed myself in fear. In order to make sure I wasn’t scared of fruit spiders any more they brought the spider outside and they had me chase it off. I did it with a bit of resistance but the spider left, and with that fear taken care of we could start working my other fears.          Then the ball came around, and I was dressed in bright yellow, since my Royal Brand was Yellow, on my chest across my heart was my mark of nobility stitched in place with red thread. A shield bearing a vertical venn diagram, the two circles represented Earth and Ecorein. The mark symbolized my duty as a transition aid, though above this shield circling the tip was a halo, a call back to my time as the Angel of The New York Sanctuary. Against my gray and black fur, the yellow truly stood out, my legs were covered yellow silk pants. On my hip was a single edged blade; in a sheath sewn into my yellow elbow length gloves was a wand. There was sure to be combat and it was possible I could be challenged by another noble, but the thing Raven warned me to do is not to challenge someone, only accept challenges so I could determine how the battle was fought.          Raven and Ria weren’t allowed to attend, and so I was left without any guards or aid during the ball. The Palace gates were open and I shifted inside past the guards and blended in with the vibrant colors, which made of the nobility of Matra, and some foreign dignitaries from Adestria, Leggala, and Cadara. These nobles, crowded the court yard and filled it with conversation and greetings, a few fights had already broken out between some nobles and swords were clashing in the back ground. Though most everyone was in the courtyard, the main party was inside the palace. I never liked going to events like this, I always felt out of place, a wall flower. Even in high school I never attend prom or any of the school dances. They just seemed boring and pointless, because those kind of events I was always ended up going alone and I didn’t have many friends to interact with so I just fell to the way side. I had the choice of brining a plus one, but Slaves weren’t allowed to attend, so I couldn’t bring Raven. I couldn’t bring Ria because she wasn’t a noble. Only nobles and wealthy individuals capable of buying a ticket could attend this ball.          But what I hated the most about these kind of things was the stories, and back stabbing involved in the back ground. These were the places that nobles went to undermine one another, to ruin each other publicly and shun others. It was about controlling politics and managing power, authority. A well-dressed slave wearing a tan trimmed silk vest and only a silk vest offered me a drink, which I plainly refused and he left; I didn’t drink alcohol and that’s all he offered.          As I walked around the courtyard heading for the palace I’d get looks from other nobles and they’d scoff at my presence and say back handed comments about who I was and mocked how I dressed. I nearly had half a mind to avoid all of this and shifting into the royal archives and read one of the many books that I had yet to touch. I did my best to keep a straight face and walk with a proper stance, carrying myself just as other males would. Though that was when I was confronted, by a female, a slim vixen, with smooth red fur, and soft yellow eyes, her body was covered with a smooth green silk dress, slit along one side. Her arms were revealed, but she wore plenty of gems around her neck and wrists, even a gold diamond anklet.          Her dress had no noble mark, so she was a noble or a plus one, probably not nobility, but from a wealthy family which were just equally allowed if able to gain an invitation. In her hand was a crystal glass filled with wine.          “What happened to your tray? Here take my drink away I’m done with it, this wine is terrible.” She simply stated holding out her glass to me. I approached her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you miss, my Name is Isen Dale, owner of the Raven name. I understand your confusion but I’m not a slave.” I simply and passive aggressively mocked, as I took the glass from her hand, though I gave her a warm smile and handed it to a slave passing by. The Vixen raised an eyebrow and looked at me watching me for a moment before speaking again.           “I’ve never seen that family Emblem. Where do you come from Isen Dale?”           “I’ve a new noble family, created under an agreement with the royal court…”           “I’ve never heard of this, and I hear many things?”           “Then your connections may not be as good as you think because I’ve been here for quite some time? I’ve made a quite a few public quarrels, I’m sure the public have spoken of the strange cat who wears the collar bearing the Royal Raven Mark.” I countered and my words were attracting ears, and gazes, the vixen turned to me and looked at me closely.           “I thought those were mere jokes, so I never paid much mind to them.”           “Well they are very much true, but as much as I would I like to stay and talk I have something to discuss with the Queen.”          “No one speaks with the queen today.” The vixen said very sure of herself.           “You could say I have an appointment.” I simply stated and the female came closer to me. “Well how does a noble that just came out of nowhere like you know the queen so personally?” The vixen asked coming closer to me and holding my arm close to her chest.           “Miss, you are here with someone else, I don’t wish to intrude. Please enjoy your evening.” I simply countered and shifted out of her grasp. The vixen looked at me with a small smile. “I’m with no one, I was able to obtain an invitation personally; you don’t need to worry about anyone else. So let’s talk.” I looked at the other nobles around me, they eyes judged me extensively, but to refuse a simple interaction would look bad so I just agreed, and held out my hand. “If you are truly alone, I would have no problem speaking with you.” I simply stated, and the female took my hand and moved closer to me, and we continued to walk towards the palace. I answered the Vixen’s questions, though I at points questioned her, from those questions I already knew I wouldn’t enjoy her personally. She was a rich snob, came and grew up in a wealthy family, was trained by of course the finest of teachers, and would eventually take over the family trading business, which had ties in many markets, jewels, provisions, and cloth. She also was of course single and looking for a mate, at this point I knew what she was trying to do. So when we entered the main hall of the Royal palace I gave her a simple goodbye and thanked her for her time. I left her before she could say anything else to me. It seemed snobbish but I wasn’t looking for a mate. Not now, and I knew she was latching on to the weakest noble she could find, me someone no one knew hardly anything about, and apparently had plenty of pull.          Though with my freedom restored and being no longer distracted I looked around the beautifully detailed palace, every wall was like a forest of woven vines, the details on the leaves were beautiful. The structure of the vines were elegant and smooth. I had been told the palace was something to behold, but I hadn’t thought this is what it meant. When I looked upon all the wood work, I didn’t see wood work, I saw a life, I could feel the presence of the art, the soul of the first queen who carved and manipulated every inch of this palace. The main hall was just as tall and just as wide, hallways went to the left and right of the main entrance, and were walled off by guards standing at attention, dressed in full plate armor. Stairs led up to the throne room where the main ball was. Nobles and wealthy individuals shifted around the hall, but most avoided me except the slaves who offered me a drink, and refused. The top of the steps went into hallways once again walled off by guards, I came to a giant set of foot thick doors decorated with vines and the royal seal, open to only those who paid.          A large elk wearing nothing but a tan vest and collar came to me carrying a small brass gong and mallet in one hand. Raven told me to give a slip of paper to the caller at the front doors of the throne room, so I dug into a vest pocket and showed the caller what was inside the slip of paper and he leaned down to read it and nodded. He came in front of me, and with the single beat of the gong he introduced me to the entire throne room. Which seemed like a bit much, but Raven said I should. It was probably the best thing I could do for myself, because hardly anyone would know who I was, and would judge me based upon the collar I wore. So an introduction might bring some positivity to my figure.           “Introducing, Master Dale, Hero of the Market Circle, Owner of the Raven name, Bearer of Master Gageth’s Brand!” The Elk bellowed into the room and the room looked upon me, with looks of surprise, confusion, and annoyance, I felt the varying moods as I entered the Throne Room. Nobles watched me closely not sure of what to make of me, and as I walked past them heading for the queen I gave simple introductions as I passed a few nobles and wealthy onlookers, just to try and ease the tension. The throne room was a large hall, just as tall as the main hall, but nearly twice as wide, along the edges of the room were tables of food that I could smell from where I stood. Meats and fruits, they smelled wonderful. Music played throughout the hall, strings and wind instruments, soft and light but the music carried around the hall.  I countered drinks when they came my way, and I moved myself to the front of the room to where the queen sat, guards confronted me before I moved too close, but the queen stood from her throne and approached me, and I took a knee in front of her. The guards moved away upon her command.           “I half expected you not to come Master Dale.”           “I didn’t want to be rude to the queen who has shown me such kindness. I’m part of your royal court my queen I couldn’t refuse your invitation.”           “Thank you for attending, I do hope you enjoy the ball.”           “My queen before we part our ways may we speak in private? I’ve come up with my answer.”           “Very well, come with me, we can’t be too long.” The queen said and I stood up and with guards on either side of me, I was led through a door behind the throne that opened up into a large office, decorated with book shelves, and drapery, and soft yellow lights. The queen stood in front of a spotless desk, the two guards stepped back and remained by the door.          A knock on the door soon came and a guard checked who it was before letting in the Ambassador. “My queen, I’m sure I should be here to hear Master Dale’s response.”           “I understand sister.” The queen stated, and with a simple wave of her hand she silenced her sister, before looking at me.           “So what is your answer Master Dale?”           “I will continue my work as a transition aid my Queen.” I simply stated and the seemed disappointed, though the Ambassador was very giddy shifting around happily, her tail shifting about behind her, making it hard for her to hide her happiness.           “May I ask why Master Dale?”           “Being a guard, requires one to be familiar with those he’s around, to be a guard is to earn the trust and loyalty of those around you. Throughout my training, I realized I didn’t create such trust and loyalty. I worked and trained with the guards but that’s it. I’m always busy, I could never truly earn their trust and loyalty, because I never once had the time to simply interact with them and become part of the squad.” The queen nodded in understanding and looked at her sister.           “Isen Dale has made his mind, I will give you full control over Master Dale to use as needed, to aid in the transition of our people.”           “Thank you your majesty.” The Ambassador bowed before looking at me with a happy smile.           “But before you leave, will you still take up my offer and attend the Royal Magical Academy?”  The queen asked looking back at me.           “It’s possible your majesty but I may have to take it in increments, I will be busy teaching students and learning the history of the Raven family.” I explained and the queen nodded.           “How is that going for you Master Dale, my guards tell me you frequent the archives everyday.”           “I’m on the fourth, to the last ledger, I’ll be finished understanding the wealth of the family in a few weeks, but I then have to start understanding the lineage, and rummage through the books and journals to see if there is anything hidden between the lines.”           “Hidden between the lines?” The Queen asked curiously.           “Things that aren’t public, like illegal trades or back room dealings, I might be able to learn if the Raven Family purchased or was given items or wealth from such things. I have noticed a couple lapses in the ledger where things don’t seem to add up properly, money simply went missing and for no reason as well. So maybe I’ll learn why by going through the rest of the books.”           “I see, well I hope you find the answers you seek.” I nodded, in agreement.           “Thank you for the words of encouragement, and giving me access to the Archives.”           “Your Welcome Master Dale, but we must get back to the Party, I’m sure the Ambassador has plenty to discuss with you.” The Queen said looking at her sister who was still very much ecstatic, but hiding it poorly, and I stepped to the side, watching the Queen leave and left with the guards who keeping a close eye on me, as the Ambassador followed my tail closely.          The Ambassador took me to the left side of the room towards the tables of food, and quickly poured some drinks for the two of us, she handed me a glass. A bright smile remained on the Ambassador’s muzzle, and I looked at her dress, it bore the family emblem of the leaf, the soft green emblem shifting into the dark green dress with ease. Her neck wore a simple green jade necklace and in her ears were small green gem stones.          I looked at the wine distastefully but kept my focus on the Ambassador. “You seem excited.”           “You have no idea what this means Isen, it’s always about buffing up and becoming stronger, very few Mincridarins solely rely on intelligence. I was truly thinking you were going to become a guard and be like the rest. I can’t wait to work with you formally now. With your help we can improve the lives for all of Matra’s people.” The Ambassador said taking a swig of the wine staining her lips a soft red, which is another reason why I didn’t want to drink the wine, or the alcohol, it’d stain my fur.           “But I’m just a transition aid how am I going to help the people of Matra?”           “I was thinking you could give some lessons to some of our scholars, just to show them Earth Technology and Science. I already have a few waiting to talk to you. You won’t be training them from scratch, so your lessons should be easier and mainly it’s just teaching them about Earth technology. Maybe you can give your lessons to them, and then they can come up with ideas... Then things will just go from there.” The Ambassador explained and it strange to see her so happy, she normally was very calm and relaxed.           “Well-.”           “Hush Isen we can discuss what you’ll need later, come with me. I want you to introduce you to some of them. There over here.” The Ambassador said quickly putting a finger to my lip, before taking my hand and leading me away, at this point I put down the cup and followed her quickly.         The Ambassador lead me too a few other yellow dressed individuals, then it dawned on me that the attire was color coded, but what the colors meant I still had no idea. The five scholars saw us approach and the happily greeted the Ambassador and I, a few of them giving earth style handshakes in greeting.  Three of them bore emblems from noble families and two were just wealthy enough to buy an invitation.          The conversation with the vixen before was dreary and dull, but these five scholars were relaxed and more than happy to talk to me and learn more about Earth through my eyes. Each of them worked in respective fields of science, math, and biology. They had bought human text books on the subjects through the ambassador, and they just wanted me to explain some of the concepts to them. It was difficult to talk them about the true definitions of things, like physics, psychology, but I did my best and that seemed enough to keep them interested.          At one point we had sat down at one of the tables nearby and just continued the conversation in depth as we ate from the table, but sometimes we’d tell jokes and stories about our personal lives. At some points in the night two of the scholars had hit on me and were flirting with me quite vividly, telling me how they’d take me in bed… Though they were mainly drunk, so it was easy to shift their attention. But most of the time it was fun to just talk to them, it reminded me of high school, talking to friends at the lunch table about class, we weren’t at a party or a ball, we were just talking and having a good time. Though as the night grew greener, a few others had joined the table, a couple of merchants, and one architect. Their appearance changed conversations dramatically, and I talked about the economy on earth and the industries that made our products, about how buildings were built, furniture and concepts of design.            My writing had lead me all over the place, and I knew a bit but not as much as I wanted to know, because I couldn’t answer everything and that just didn’t feel right. I was the walking guide to Earth and its culture I had to know as much as I could.          BY the time the end of the day and the New Year was starting, a General and Master Mage had come join in the conversation, because it seemed the most interesting thing to be a part of. So with appearance of the Royal Mage and the General, we started talking about weapons and history of wars. Two of the other scholars were passed out drunk, but the others were just as interested in the technology spawned by war, which made sense they were Mincridarins, their lives revolved around combat.          Though as it was coming closer to early morning I knew I had to go home, much to everyone’s protest, but I had to leave. I needed to get some sleep, and the conversation had been dying anyways. When I got home, the Brothel was loud and boisterous. Raven had shut down the brothel and all the slaves were allowed to have their own fun night, it was the one day of the year that Raven’s one rule was no fighting or leaving the brothel… So I’m sure they had plenty of sex, and were drinking the entire stock room of wine dry. I walked upstairs and into my room, and slumped down on my bed, flicked my hand and closed the door with a gust of air, and quickly passed out from exhaustion.

[cover32-yahoopartner-blog]

Buffalo Bills: Things we know this week

The immeasurable disclosure dispatched with intense excitement (yes sarcasm) via One Bills Drive came from the fact that the team was not announcing resolution to constant ongoing discussed issues surrounding the enormous question mark at quarterback, an overpriced yet desperately needed freeagent pro-bowl cornerback, lack of depth at wide receiver soon to potentially be worsened if Robert Woods chases his payday, franchise tags which equal top player money, numerous upcoming unrestricted and restricted free agents or even salary cap complications.

Instead the information provided is that the eight year NFL veteran linebacker and former North Dakota State standout, Ramon Humber, agreed to terms with Buffalo to keep him here after a successful team leading 12 special teams tackle season. We all know this is not some nationally covered contract renewal like the inking of Marcell Dareus or Jerry Hughes last year.

It is also not a ticket seller/attention seeking outside signing as it was when the key to the city was handed to Terrell Owens. Ramon Humber had such a solid year on special teams, but he was signed for the veteran league minimum and will not be broadcasted throughout the free world like it was when Mario Williams came for a visit and never left.

Walk with me friends as I do the old ‘digress two step trot’, (my legendary little distraction dance I borrowed from the classic movie Clerks, not to be confused with Clerks 2 or Clerks. the cartoon) heading full throttle off the pure adrenalin writing about that enormous signing by the Bills.

I am really going to have to start hanging around that “Little Stinker” Devon Hooks more often. Devon is extremely rational and becomes even more rational as he puts back the Bacardi and cokes. I sense too much of ‘Negative Stanley’ and the dark side inching its way into my thoughts, hopes and dreams but most importantly where I need to put my foot down…. Negativity is inching its way into my writing about….

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Predictions: Way too early 2017 NFL predictions

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Things We Know about the Buffalo Bills This Week:

R = Road Less Productions Rare avocation

A live play is soon to hit the theatre district’s revolving around the life and career of Thurman Thomas. All Pro, Pro bowler, AFC Champion, should have been Super bowl 25 MVP, local charity celebrity and of course a first-ballot Hall of Famer. Never in his wildest dreams did he envision having his life told on stage including his illustrious career. “The Life of Thurman Thomas” debuts in June of this year at 500 Pearl Street as tickets go on sale in March. Good idea for a date night? Boys night? Not interested at all?

Outlook: Similar to the movie Buffalo 66 and Almost a Dynasty, I believe this already becomes a must see for adults who followed Thurman’s entire career. Who knows, maybe it has Broadways name on it someday. Broadway in the Big Apple, not by the Broadway Market.

S = Sign Kenny Britt

Former first round pick by the Rams, Kenny Britt is soon to become an unrestricted free agent. The Bills have shown a tad interested in him in the past, but the opportunity is now.  He is coming off a close to 70 catch season with a horrible team that just relocated. His earlier years some claim to have proven him a bust, but he has size, speed and skill.

The Bills should act fast on him because they have no one worth mentioning after Sammy Watkins. I am confident Robert Woods is going to get “SHOWN THE MONEY” which Buffalo is in no position to do.

Outlook: Britt goes elsewhere due to Buffalo’s lack of commitment to a pass first offense and salary cap restrictions.

T = The Time Has Come

Experts in football as well as analytics have predicted the Bills to make a substantial improvement on their record next season. This is based on many many factors, but the stressed example is that the Bills had so many games decided by a missed kick, one point games, injuries galore as well as the defense performing at such an underachieving level.

They also take into consideration how reliable the rushing attack was. I still get skeptical predicting vast improvement based on how many free agents Buffalo has the potential and will most likely lose. Some of these players who will not be here are very talented performing players that are not a phone call away to replace.

The time has come for Buffalo to pick up the phone and call up Tony Romo explaining to him how he could come here and be the savior just by winning enough games to sneak into a wild card spot. The time has come for Romo to play for the love of the game. The time has come for Tony Romo to hold off on the injuries and play a full season in Buffalo. He could repeat the performance in some way that Drew Bledsoe did so many years ago, allowing the Bills to become an instant contender.

The problem I see here besides us being really worried about the surgeries of the past and injuries of the future is that he has never won a super bowl. At 37 years old a Super Bowl ring is much more important that being responsible for ending a two-decade playoff drought.

Outlook: Tony Romo plays in high altitude and makes a serious run at the Super Bowl in Denver. Denver becomes the team that wins Super Bowls on their quarterbacks finishing their career on top due to a strong defense. If you think about it, John Elway did not win his first Super Bowl until his last two seasons in football when he finally got a great running game. Peyton went out mediocre but a world champion and Romo is going to follow that path to gain more respect for his very good career by winning the big game.

Even More Outlook: Romo goes to Denver. Tyrod finds the payer he is looking for as a starter in the league. Buffalo signs Mike Glennon to bridge the gap to Cardale Jones. Bills miss the playoffs as Glennon needs much more time to throw completions than the Bills Solid offensive run first offensive line can provide.

U = Undervalue missed opportunities

I was as big a critic in the living room and behind the scenes as anyone, except Stan, of course. I just heard a statistic that made me sick to my stomach. Robert Woods, Shady McCoy and Sammy Watkins were only on the field at the same time this past season five times. FIVE TIMES! That is four less times than Ferris Bueller missed days of school his senior year.

With the Bills running attack, tough offensive line, and a quarterback who can at the very least keep plays alive, the Bills should have been in the playoffs overcoming the regular amount of injuries. The team was assembled to have the dynamic wide out in Watkins being all over the field, the precise route runner and reliable handed Robert Woods and McCoy on the field controlling the tempo of the game. Instead they took turns having backups fill in for them.

Sign Robert Woods if you can and if not make a strong play for Britt. Stop hoping Sammy will suddenly become iron when to this point he has been weak glass. That does not mean he has not been the MVP on the field. That just means he can’t lead in certain ways when he is always injured.

Outlook: Bills draft a young wide receiver and keep none of the relevant receiver’s currently on the roster except for Sammy who just may have a hang nail in his future that could sideline him for weeks. Bring back Percy Harvin… Kidding.

Step Up Buffalo Bills. Step Up.

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