#they either felt lackluster or just like. we had these life changing adventures together now bye forever

[oceanatydes]

i just finished dos2 and it was such an excellent game but what the hell was the red prince's epilogue scene??

he had so much character growth at the end, going so far as to give up what arguably was his birthright to be a god amongst men (aka lizards) and ruling to mc and trusting them as the new divine

then he turns around and says lol be my slave like what the hell?? where was the character progression?? the romantic acknowledgement that he literally tells mc he loves them?? what was that??

[bb8sworld]

i have taken to lovingly calling this the picnic fic. is this fic self-indulgent? yes, yes it is. incredibly so. many thanks to @doublesunsets who brought forth the idea of a picnic in the park with obi and feeding ducks together. this was oodles of fun to write! there’s nothing but pure fluff ahead, so if that suits your fancy, then i hope you decide to give this a read. enjoy!

pairing: obi-wan kenobi x reader

word count: 4.7k (my god)

-- ☆ -- ☆ -- ☆ -- ☆ --

The whole situation had started out innocently enough.

You and Obi-Wan were cuddled together on the couch in your room, him laying on the cushions with you draped over him like a blanket, the both of you completely at peace in your position as you simply relished the moment. With his heartbeat thumping steadily in your ear and his hand running over your back in comforting circles, you couldn’t of anywhere else you’d rather be. In fact, you think that if someone tried to move you from your spot you might very well hiss at them and cling onto Obi-Wan—not that he would complain, considering he feels the exact same on the matter. Having you so close helped center his mind to this moment instead of thinking and worrying about all the duties he still had to uphold outside of your room. It also didn’t hurt that you would occasionally place gentle kisses on his chest, causing his heart to flutter a little faster and his stomach to swoop. It wasn’t very often when the two of you got to spend quiet time together where you two could actually act like a couple and indulge in all the normalities that others took for granted.

On the holoscreen before you both was a completely trashy romance holodrama playing. It was one of those dramas with lackluster acting, predictable dialogue, cringy scenes, and a two hour build up for a kiss with the leading couple that happens in the last two minutes—and you both secretly loved to watch them together. Sure they weren’t anything to write home about, but they were fun to poke fun at and they were mind-numbing enough to get your minds off of the daily stresses you two had. Besides, it was much nicer to get invested and mad at the “will they, won’t they” song and dance the lead couple did than at the current state the galaxy was in.

The holodrama had just about passed the halfway mark when the scene on the screen changed to the lead couple going on a “totally platonic” picnic together that involved casually hand-feeding each other food, friendly cuddling on the picnic blanket, and not-at-all-flirtatious dialogue. You couldn’t but let out a laugh at the scene and how ridiculous it is. You felt Obi-Wan’s hand on your back still as he turned his attention away from the screen and onto you.

“Care to share what you find so humorous?”

You let out another giggle before you give a slight, albeit awkward, shrug before answering, “It’s just…picnics are one of the most cliché dates you can go on as a couple, everyone knows that.”

Obi-Wan had certainly not known that, but he wasn’t going to admit to that. Not yet, at least.

“And you find that…funny?” he inquires.

“I find it funny because it’s also incredibly romantic. Who in the galaxy goes on a picnic with the person of your affections if not to go on a date and romance them?” you respond, as if stating the obvious. “The picnic date is a staple outing for romantic partners, not friends. And if you’re the one asking someone on a date, it’s understood that you’re going to try and woo them.”

Obi-Wan takes a moment to consider your words. The two of you had far from a conventional romantic relationship given how your love was confined behind closed doors and hidden in the shadows. Because of this, it was rare for you two to act like a “normal” couple and “woo” each other, and he couldn’t help but wonder sometimes if he was asking too much of you by being in a relationship with him. If you two weren’t together, you’d have the freedom to openly love someone.

But instead you chose him of all people in the galaxy, and while he may not understand why at times, he wasn’t going to let it go for the world.

Which also brings him back to his current predicament: “normal” couple dates. Your “normal” was certainly different from others, but he had always thought it was enough. But what if it wasn’t? Were there normal couple things you missed partaking in? Should he make more of an effort to demonstrate his love for you? He’s not the type to get insecure about your relationship, but every now and then he’ll see other couples be openly affectionate or you’ll give a soft sigh at a romantic scene in one of these awful holodramas and he can’t help but wonder if you miss any of that. If he voices his worries, though, you are always quick to quell them with your reassurances that you don’t care about any of that. As long as you have him, that’s enough, and you’ll stay by his side until he doesn’t want you to anymore (which he can’t even begin to fathom not wanting to be with you, not loving you with every fiber of his being that his chest often hurts at the mere sight of your smile, but that’s beside the point).

He decides not to voice any of this, though, not because he fears your answer will change, but because he knows it hasn’t. You’ve been persistent enough in the past with your reassurances and affections that his little worries over stuff like this feel just like that: little. So instead, he decides to respond with something else.

“Well then you must’ve gone on plenty of picnics, my love. I imagine you’ve had many people try to woo you.”

You can’t help but laugh once again. “Pfft, as if. I’ve gone on one, maybe two actual picnics in my life? And trust me, I was not wooed either time.”

“Only ‘one, maybe two’? I find that hard to believe.” You lift your head off of his chest to make eye contact with him as you respond, “Well you better believe it because it’s the truth and I would never lie to you, Obi.”

Obi-Wan smiles at your response and leans in for a quick kiss, crappy holodrama now entirely forgotten. You hum into the kiss, conversation momentarily put on pause by the best distraction of them all: each other. But while it’s nice, you pull back early with a smirk on your face.

“Besides, if either of us here has been wooed via picnic many times over, it’s obviously going to be you. You flirt with anything that breathes and you know it.” A scoff is your immediate reply and you lift an eyebrow at the affronted look on his face.

“For your information, I do not flirt with anything that breathes. I do have some standards and the Jedi Code to uphold—”

“—mmm, and you’re definitely upholding the Code well—”

“But regardless,” he interrupts any other teasing comments you were about to make, throwing an unimpressed look your way that quickly softens, “I leave all my affections for you.”

Your face heats up at that comment as it usually does whenever Obi-Wan tells you something sweet and loving. You try and fail to fight the cheek-straining smile tugging at your lips. Damn him for successfully harnessing the powerful ability to make you fluster. Despite you two having been together for the better part of a year now, you’re still caught off guard by the loving words he gifts you with. You’ve learned to treasure each and every one, not because he doesn’t give you many, but because he always manages to make you feel special and loved like none other. Others may try to convince you otherwise, but Obi-Wan Kenobi is a secret romantic, and you’re the only one who gets to see this side of him. And you love it.

“Well you certainly know how to make me feel special, now don’t you?” you tease. “If I weren’t laying on top of you right now I think I’d be swooning.”

He smirks at you before responding, “Darling, I thought we had agreed not to lie to each other?”

“Oh shut up and kiss me already,” You’re barely able to finish your sentence when his lips find yours in a tender kiss. You can practically feel the smug satisfaction radiating off of him at his success in making you be flustered and weak-hearted, but you can’t find it within yourself to care when you’re savoring one of Obi-Wan’s many sweet kisses.

When you pull away, you both share a smile before resuming your previous position, focusing back on the holodrama that was ignored. It’s quiet once more between you two, and as you’re laying there in peace, you realize you never did get an answer from Obi-Wan.

“I know we were joking earlier, but have you really never gone on a picnic before?” Your voice isn’t terribly loud, not wanting to disturb the peaceful environment surrounding you two, but you’re itching for an answer.

“Unfortunately not. Jedi Code, remember? No being wooed for me, at least not publicly.” You only hum in response to that, not wanting to push the topic further. You place a quick kiss above his heart before snuggling back down, eyes back on the holodrama. Eventually, your eyelids start to get heavy and sleep starts to pull softly at you as Obi-Wan resumes rubbing his hand up-and-down your back. And if thoughts start running through your head about how you can swing a picnic date with Obi-Wan and properly woo him, well, he doesn’t need to know. Not yet, at least.

Too bad the reality of planning picnics hits you like a punch to the face once you’re awake. There’s just so much to consider regarding the “where” and “when” and “how” of organizing a picnic that you’re overwhelmed in seconds.

Regarding the “where,” at first you thought it might be sweet to have a mock-outdoors picnic by bringing plants into your room and laying out a blanket on the floor, but then you realized that trying to get that many plants in the room may give it more of a jungle adventure feel than intimate romance. Plus, where would you even get all those plants? And what would you do with them afterward? Needless to say, that idea was scratched pretty quickly. Were plants even a necessary addition? you wondered. Perhaps not. Probably not. Hopefully not.

But then came the other half of this equation: the “when.” It was hard enough to find time to be alone together because your schedules often conflicted, and you’d hate to go through the trouble to procure food for a picnic only for one or both of you to be busy. You’d have to look ahead at your schedules to see if you had any free time…except your schedules were prone to changing on a moment’s notice. Maybe you could ask for time off. Do Jedi get vacation days?

There were too many variables at play here, and without either the “where” or the “when” figured out there couldn’t possibly even be a “how.”

So yeah, planning wasn’t going that well.

Ugh.

Were planning picnics usually this hard? Or was your case just uniquely special? You sure hoped not, otherwise this was about to be the only picnic Obi-Wan would ever go on in his life. And it very well may end in disaster.

You were still stumped on how you were going to pull off a proper picnic when you and Obi-Wan were sent off to Naboo for a week-long mission filled with meetings, negotiations, and conflict. Every ingredient needed for a completely fun off-Coruscant trip…oh who were you kidding, this was going to be one long, drawn-out trip that would put you in tears if you could openly cry in public without it being weird. At least Obi-Wan’s along for the ride, that’s a silver lining, you mused.

It was on the fifth day of your trip to Naboo when the unexpected happened.

You were in the room you were staying in when you heard a knock on your door. You weren’t expecting anyone, and as far as you were concerned, the next meeting wasn’t until after lunch, so the morning and early afternoon were open for whatever you wanted to do. You were hoping to maybe spend it with Obi-Wan, but looks like fate had other plans.

Except when you open the door, the very man consuming your thoughts was standing there, wicker basket in hand and a pleased smile on his face.

Oh.

Oh.

“Obi-Wan…what’s that in your hand?”

“This?” he lifts up the wicker basket, “Well, I heard from Senator Amidala that the meetings for today were cancelled, which means we have the day to ourselves, so I thought we could go on a picnic,” he says innocently, as if you’re not having an emotional spiral over how he beat you to your own endgame and organized his own first picnic date.

“Oh you sneaky little bastard.” It slips out without a thought, but it leaves Obi-Wan amused more than anything.

“What? I thought you’d like to be wooed, my love.”

“I–well–sure, but did you have to beat me to the punch? I had this plan to make your first picnic special and surprise you with it, not have you surprise me with one,” you ramble. At this, Obi-Wan’s cheeks blush a light pink and he swears his heart melts right then and there. Of course you would try to surprise him with a picnic date. You were aware of how new he still was to dating and being in a romantic relationship, so you were always introducing him to various romantic activities and gestures. He would be lying if he said he didn’t love every second of it, if he didn’t love you. The besotted look on his face that follows these thoughts is subconscious.

“Any picnic with you would be special whether you planned it or I did because you would be there,” he tells you earnestly. He grabs your hand and gives it a loving squeeze, “And who’s to say we still can’t go on your picnic?”

You pause briefly at that. “I guess you’re right.” You close your eyes and let out a quick huff to regroup yourself before opening them again to look at his dazzling blue eyes. You give him a brilliant smile that makes him feel weak in the knees at the very sight of. “So, where were you planning on taking me for this picnic of yours?”

He smiles right back at you as he says, “That, my dear, I think I’ll leave as a surprise.”

And a surprise it was. He took you to the rolling hills in the countryside of Naboo, flowers of all colors blooming among the vibrant green grass with a crystal blue lake not too far off in the distance forming from a waterfall, trees scattered about. It was absolutely gorgeous and secluded, which meant you could be affectionate towards each other and treat this as an actual date without having to look around every minute or so in fear of being caught.

God, Obi-Wan had really outdone himself.

You turn your head to look at him, hearts practically manifesting themselves in your eyes. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

He places a kiss on your forehead before saying, “Not yet today.”

“Well I do love you,” you say. “Very much.”

“And I love you too.” He gives you a quick kiss on the lips before adding in a quiet whisper, “More than I can possibly explain.”

You two begin to wander, hands clasped together, in search for the perfect spot to set up your picnic and lay down the blanket nestled inside the basket. You mutually decide on a shaded area underneath a tall tree overlooking the nearby lake and quickly start to make work of setting up the actual picnic. The blanket is unfolded and laid on top of the grass, the containers of food are brought out, and the bottle of emerald wine is placed on the blanket. Everything looks delicious and well-thought out, and your heart melts at the obvious effort Obi-Wan put into organizing this date. You’re about to close up the basket when you notice a jar of…something, left in the basket. You pull it out to inspect it, thinking it must be food you forgot to pull out, but when you take a closer look, you’re confused.

“Dry oats?” you inquire. Your stomach suddenly gets queasy at the thought of eating them, and you make your hesitation known, “Are we making porridge on this picnic? Because that may be a deal-breaker, Obi. Porridge is bland and disappointing and you know it.”

Immediate laughter is the response you get, causing you to look up from the offending oats at the source of that glorious sound. The pure joy on his face, the crinkles by his eyes, the smile that tugs a little too tight on his cheeks…you bask in it all, wishing this one moment of absolute ease and love could last a lifetime. It’s not often when Obi-Wan can let loose like this, and every time you witness his carefree side, unadulterated love and happiness fill your heart because you get to bear witness to it. You wish you could bottle up this moment and keep it forever, but since you can’t, instead you spend every precious second soaking in every fine detail before you. Because of this, you’re almost caught off guard when he stops laughing and finally composes himself enough to respond.

“They’re not for us, my darling, they’re for them,” he points to a flock of ducks in the distance. There aren’t many, but that seemed to be because they were coming and going as they pleased. Some lazing about in the water, others flying out of the lake and into the sky, and some landing in the lake for a quick swim. It was a rather interesting sight to look at, peaceful too.

“How kind of you to consider the ducks,” you poke at him, though there is no malice in your words. “But wait, I thought you feed ducks bread. Isn’t that the standard food of choice?”

Obi-Wan begins doling out dishes and silverware to you both as you tuck the jar of oats back in the basket.

“Well, you can feed bread to ducks, but it isn’t advised,” he tells you, “Bread itself has no nutritional value for the ducks, so while they might enjoy it, they’re filling themselves up on food that will ultimately lead them down a path of malnourishment. And there’s also the risk of them gaining weight from all the bread consumption to the point where they can’t fly anymore.”

“Huh,” you say, curiosity and shock filling your tone, “I didn’t know that.”

“Many people don’t, they just assume bread is okay to feed them,” Obi-Wan comments. You hum back in affirmation, but something about his response feels…well, not quite wrong but…textbook. It sounded as if he was reading from an ornithology book, or at the very least one of those “introductory to” articles that you rely on when you can’t recall something and you need to brush up—

Wait a second.

If you didn’t know that fact about ducks and many other people didn’t either, how would Obi-Wan have known? Maybe he’s fed ducks before, but he would’ve mentioned something when you were first discussing picnics, yeah?

Unless… 

“Obi-Wan,” you begin tentatively. “How did you know that tidbit about not feeding the ducks bread?”

“What?” he looks back up at you from where he was opening up one of the containers of food, a slightly stunned look on his face.

“What you just said about feeding the ducks, you said not many people knew about it, and I certainly didn’t, so how did you?”

Silence is your answer as he immediately looks back down, fiddling with the container lid he just took off. You pick up on the light dusting of pink on his cheeks, way too sudden to be a result of overheating or warmth, especially since you’re in the shade. The puzzle pieces slowly start falling into place and the bigger picture is taking shape. The duck feeding, the blanket, the wicker basket, the excellent arrangement of food, the bottle of emerald wine—surely he couldn’t have remembered all that after barely paying attention to a cheesy picnic scene in a trashy holodrama.

“Obi, did you research about feeding ducks before this picnic?” you ask. Still silence on his end, but the pink on his cheeks begins to deepen, and your theory suddenly seems much more plausible. “Wait a second, love, did you do research about picnics after our conversation?”

Your hands immediately latch onto his arm and you scoot closer to him on the blanket, practically cuddled into his side now, food and wine and quacking ducks momentarily forgotten. “You did, didn’t you? Oh maker, Obi-Wan, you didn’t have to do any of that to ‘woo’ me! I’d be swooning even on a tattered blanket eating bland porridge and ignorantly feeding bread to those poor ducks.”

Despite his now flaming red face, Obi-Wan looks up and his blue eyes latch onto yours. His hand cups your cheek softly, thumb tracing along your cheekbone, as he takes in the pure, unbridled happiness on your face and the way your eyes sparkle in the sunlight. He knows he didn’t have to orchestrate any of this to the degree he did or dedicate research to picnics of all things, but he wanted to. He wanted to give you a slice of normality, a date where you can be open and loving, a day where you felt truly loved and appreciated, no questions asked. And there was so much more that he wants to give you one day—a husband, a father to your children, a life off of Coruscant, a love that didn’t have to be tucked away out-of-sight, out-of-mind—but for now, this was a start. A taste of what could one day be a reality. He would do anything for you if you asked and he would give anything to have one more second with you.

And so, with nothing but love in his heart, it’s with absolute fondness that he responds, “I know. But it’s what you deserve.”

Honestly, how could you not kiss him after a comment like that? In fact, you kiss him several times over, time itself feeling as if it had stopped despite the slow moving clouds and blowing blades of grass around you suggesting otherwise.

“This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” you admit when you separate between kisses. You get one last kiss on your lips before Obi-Wan fully pulls himself away, pleased smile donning his face.

“Let’s hope you still think so when we find our food has been infested by insects,” he remarks jokingly. That gets your head whipping away from him to inspect all the open food in front of you. Thankfully, the pesky critters haven't stolen much of the food from you both aside from a bowl of some fruit salad. You donate the beloved salad to critters before you open the rest of the food and start to dish some of the non-infested food out on your plates. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan goes to open the wine bottle he brought. You’re just about done making up your plates when you notice Obi-Wan staring at the wine bottle in silence. And it clicks.

“Obi,” you’re trying so hard not to giggle, “Did you forget the corkscrew?”

A beat. “It would appear I have.”

You try to stifle your laughter at his misfortune by putting your hand over your mouth, but even so some peals of laughter escape. Despite the faux annoyed look on his face, Obi-Wan’s heart sings at the sound of your laughter.

“Can’t you just, you know,” you wave your hand at the bottle and poorly mimic Obi-Wan’s posh Coruscanti accent as you continue, “use the Force.”

“That’s not how the Force works.” Your slight amusement is met with an unimpressed look. Not a moment later, however, his hand waves through the air and you’re startled by the sound of pouring. You look away from him and what do you know, the bottle of wine is just magically open now and pouring itself into two glasses. Funny how wine bottles can just do that. Must be a Naboo thing. Or perhaps there's a nearby magical duck rooting for this date to go well. Whatever it was, it definitely was not Obi-Wan frivolously using the Force like he’s not supposed to.

“Right, of course, silly me for suggesting otherwise,” you concede.

After that, the two of you finally dig into the meal, sipping on wine, talking about everything and nothing, and absorbing every moment within each other’s presence. It’s a simple afternoon spent in the fields of Naboo, surrounded by beautiful colors, the calming sound of running water, and far off sounds of quacking.

And later, once you’re finished with your food, you finally do go and feed the nearby ducks the offending oats. The ducks themselves are more than enthusiastic to be fed by you both, and you try to feed as many as you can, except in your efforts to throw some farther into the lake, you find yourself losing balance and falling in. And unfortunately for your lover, you bring him down with you after you grab his arm in hopes of regaining support.

Soaked in sodden clothes and surrounded by ducks quacking in despair at the realization that the oats are no longer being served hot and fresh before them, the two of you sit there awkwardly in the shallows of the lake before a shared cacophony of laughter breaks through the soft sounds of nature. Between your peals of giggles and your current situation of sitting in a lake, the moment is clumsy and loud and wet, but also wonderful and real and unexpected. This picnic is somehow both every cliché under the sun and yet completely out of the blue at the same time.

Obi-Wan is the first to get up as the laughter dies down, his Jedi robes dripping with muddied water and his boots squelching as he walks to shore. He offers a hand to you, which you gladly take, and you haul yourself up as well. His hand guides you out to the open field before pulling you down to the ground to lay in the sun in hopes of drying off some before you have to pack up and head back. You both simply lay there quietly, linked only by your hands, as you absorb sunlight and make a small puddle around you with your sodden clothes.

"Maybe we should quit while we're ahead in the picnic date department,” you suggest, “Because these take an absurd amount of planning and I’d rather not fall in another lake."

A squeeze of the hand is your response, and when you turn your head to look at him, you see that he’s already staring at you, a gentle smile on his lips and love in his eyes.

“Maybe,” he ponders, “But you must admit that this was quite the memorable afternoon, my darling.”

You shake your head fondly as you keep your loving gaze on him, choosing to keep quiet, because how else could you respond? You certainly couldn’t deny his claim. This was easily the best picnic you’ve ever been on, and probably the best one you ever will go on. And you know that you’ll be thinking back and mentally reliving several moments from this date when the distance between you two grows as he goes off on another mission, leaving you behind with a yearning heart. Because at the end of the day, he’s the one who holds your heart for safekeeping, and while circumstances may make your love hard and difficult, it also adds a layer of wonder and importance. Nothing about your relationship is “normal,” but it’s your normal and it’s too good to let go.

So you’ll take odd dates like these and the hidden tender moments and mentally scrapbook each one—because you’d rather have loved and lost than not loved at all.

And with Obi-Wan, you know your love is worth it, and even if you lose him, you’ll still have won.

[sw4gg1e4life]

Yu Yu Hakusho (Reviewing 25 years later)

This anime is like a forgotten gem. It doesn’t come to mind as #1 first but when mentioned everyone goes oh yea that was like one of the best anime’s of all time. I feel like most anime’s don’t have the same level of action, adventure, comedy, drama, and growth that this show offered. Whether you watch it as a kid for action & childish humor or as an adult for the deeper drama, life lessons and adult humor, it’s great across generations and across time whether you watched it as a kid in the 90s/00s or now in 2021. 

Let me simplify it because there’s so much in-depth analysis I could go into.

Ratings per Arc/Saga:

Spirit Detective - 8/10

Dark Tournament - 10/10

Chapter Black - 8/10

Three Kings - 7/10

Deeper Analysis:

Spirit Detective - Honestly this arc had amazing parts to it, introducing the main characters, slowly improving enemies, and setting up for the Dark Tournament. I love the intro and how Yusuke has to undergo his ordeal showing his relationship with Kuwabara, Keiko, his mother, Boton, Koenma and everyone else around him. We’re introduced to a brat who doesn’t really belong but slowly finds his place and purpose starting here as Spirit Detective. I loved the deeper stories with introducing Hiei and Kurama. The introduction of Genkai was amazing, it showed there’s different aspects of growing and trying to master spirit energy. I only wish that section was a bit longer, maybe just 2-3 episodes of more unique competitors. The Spirit Beasts section is what made it a tad lackluster. This is their first real mission to spirit world and the abilities of the 4 spirit beasts just felt somewhat limited to me. Especially the fire-tiger beast, his tenacity just became annoying at some point. This is what dropped the Spirit Detective Saga to an 8 for me or else I would’ve made it a 9. The final part is amazing, it brings some backstory to Hiei by introducing her sister and most importantly the Toguro brothers leading to the Dark Tournament. 

All together, it’s probably one of the best intro sagas to any anime I’ve seen at least. There’s simplicity but also complexity at the same time depending on how deep you look into it. They didn’t just half ass the action like many of my other favorite action-packed anime (DBZ, Fairy Tail). There’s a lot of mystery, dark moments, and strategy for a supposed kids cartoon for the haters out there. 

Dark Tournament - This has to be the best saga in any ever because of the different strategies, emotions, growth, and somehow comedy still added in. I can’t help but re-watch this saga again and again every few years. We start with a mystery question: how much did the main characters grow in strength, abilities, and strategies? Now as a teen then now adult, the masked fighter is obviously Genkai because of the height, outfit and abilities, but as a kid, she was such a mystery for me haha. Anyways we go into the tournament and the committee seems hell bent on pitting everything against Yusuke & friends. I like that though Yusuke’s team comes out on top at the end of each fight, they do lose some individual matches for multiple different reasons. Instead of mindless matches purely on the fighting, we actually learn some backstory about many enemies and our main characters. It didn’t take long either; there wasn’t a ridiculous amount of episodes spent per backstory like Naruto or Fairy Tail. Genkai showed even more wisdom but also understanding of humanity as she knows her time is ending so she passes on her power abilities and most importantly wisdom to her favorite dim-wit. And throughout the story, we get to know more about Genkai and Toguro’s backstory and how power, morals and unfortunate events can change one’s future. The part that most people forget is the final episodes of the Dark Tournament: Toguro has been and wants to continue punishing himself. He actually does care for Genkai and Yusuke. He knows Yusuke has greater potential to grow into something great but needs proper and sometimes drastic measures and guidance to do so.

This saga had an amazing start, several related series of actions in the middle and a proper explanation at the end for many questions we had. On top of all that we’re left clues to the next arc, subtle clues you don’t realize until the next arc comes around. Episode 66, was shocking, Koenma actually granted Yusuke’s wish for his mentor and friend to be revived to live until the end of her life in peace as much as possible. 

Chapter Black - This saga was great. You really don’t know what it is until it’s fully explained. We all know there were stronger demons deeper in spirit world. But something deeper darker is coming and it’s crazy because after 66 episodes we realized we never wondered about a previous Spirit Detective. What happened to that one? Now we get a trio of test spiritually aware humans just to test Yusuke & Kuwabara, but the really interesting part is when Sensui and his team is brought in. A few abilities were obvious but others were so mysterious with a constant ominous presence and heartbeat music looming over. What is each unique opponent’s abilities and what is Sensui’s background and end goal? His multiple personalities each containing yet even more unique abilities with his desire for an open tunnel into the depths of Spirit World for A/S class demons is insane. It seems impossible for Yusuke to win here even with Kuwabara’s sacrifice again. But wow what a reveal that he does have a secret demon king lineage in his blood. I both love and hate this at the same time. It feels like a cop-out but also explains everything at the same time. It’s like Super Saiyan in DBZ but different because at least here it took until the 3rd Saga and several arcs to reveal it. I guess in the overall scheme of things it’s like having Dragonball before Dragonball Z. Anyways the ending is amazing as we see them fight and find out just why Sensui wanted this all along as well as his gay partner’s obsession over him. 

This was a great saga with a truly ominous back story and I love it. The only reason I keep it rated at 8/10 is unfortunately it happens right after the best saga ever in the Dark Tournament. At this point, power scaling and the use of demon king lineage in Yusuke just unfortunately puts the rating here. And we already know what the next saga is about for sure. There’s nothing left to really explore.

Three Kings - Here we go, the finale of Yu Yu Hakusho. We know Yusuke is of demon king lineage so of course he’s going to go train in Demon World. Hiei and Kurama obviously would follow along. Now with everything being obvious, why is it still interesting? Somehow the writers/producers of Yu Yu Hakusho find a way to bring even more back story in appropriate timing without it becoming filler. Learning about the deep ancient history of Raizen vs Yomi vs Mukuro shows how even as demons they have a human aspect: Raizen who ended up loving a human, Yomi who had a child and history with Kurama, and Mukuro with her tragic backstory that led to an odd relationship with Hiei. The ending is great with yet another tournament. As a kid, I wished they had a full tournament arc, but decades later I realized how much sense it makes that they didn’t show us the whole tournament, just key battles and how no one in our main crew won. Yusuke, Kurama and Hiei still has much to learn and grow. Yomi and Mukuro’s time has passed. A new brighter future awaits the demon world. Yusuke finally gets his happy ending with Keiko. 

This final saga unfortunately because of its timing and closure gets a rating of 7/10. For an ending it’s great and I’m not sure how to improve it. That’s why I’m not a producer/writer haha. But it is definitely amazing and I appreciate it. Yusuke went from a kid/teen to a young adult. The story we came to know and love is over and he did NOT end up obsessed like Toguro. He didn’t choose the demon life. He also didn’t choose a psychic path like Genkai. He chose his own path with his friends in the human world continuing as spirit detective but living as close to a normal life as possible. I love this ending, The ending and whole narrative makes me give this show a 10/10. Yes I know they released 2 specials in 2018 but why not that’s a small treat for us fans. They can do specials maybe every decade or so. I don’t actually want them to do a new continued series like Dragonball Super. Let the original show be what it is and be remembered in history as one of the most unique shows with catchy theme songs. Also the Eng dub is actually good haha. Listen carefully for the adult humor hidden in the show if you’re re-watching it. You likely didn’t understand every NSFW joke as a kid. I know I didn’t haha. 

[mediaeval-muse]

Book Review

Paladin’s Grace. By T. Kingfisher. Dallas: Argyll, 2020.

Rating: 2/5 stars

Genre: romantic fantasy

Part of a Series? No

Summary: Stephen's god died on the longest day of the year… Three years later, Stephen is a broken paladin, living only for the chance to be useful before he dies. But all that changes when he encounters a fugitive named Grace in an alley and witnesses an assassination attempt gone wrong. Now the pair must navigate a web of treachery, beset on all sides by spies and poisoners, while a cryptic killer stalks one step behind…

***Full review under the cut.***

Trigger/Content Warnings: sexual content, violence

Overview: I think I came across this book while browsing Smart Bitches, Trashy Books, but I don’t remember for sure. Regardless, I decided to pick it up because the story of a paladin whose god has died intrigued me. I’m a sucker for stories about crises of faith, and I was in the mood for a fun adventure with a little angst thrown in. While the premise was very much my jam, the prose style ultimately prevented me from connecting with this book. In my opinion, it felt like the book was aimed at readers with arrested emotional development: everything felt sanitized for a younger audience (as in, there was a lot of awkward, quirky humor while nothing felt particularly threatening) yet there were also graphic sexual scenes, reminding me of a lot of New Adult stereotypes. It prevented the story from delving deep into things like what a crisis of faith might look like and how someone might navigate it, and undercut the thrill of the political intrigue. As a result, I personally couldn’t give this book a higher rating.

Writing: Kingfisher’s prose is fairly simple - simple sentences, simple images, etc. It’s pretty easy to get through, and readers can skim, if that’s what they’re into. It’s also full of “quirky humor” so that the mood is fairly light throughout. While sometimes the humor would get a chuckle from me, most of the time, it completely destroyed the mood. The best way I can think to describe it is that it resembles a lot of stereotypes I associate with New Adult fantasy books: the book feels like it’s written for younger readers, but the sexual humor/graphic sex scenes prove otherwise. Characters will make childish jokes, despite most of them being in their 30s (for example, “I wonder if you can stab someone with an ice sculpture”), or stumble over their words in what seems like an attempt to make them seem awkward (”I... um...” or “I... er... what?”). Things like “Gnnnrggzzz” and “Ohmyfuckingshitfuckshitgaaaaaaah” are written out, further making me feel like I was reading something meant to make younger readers smile. Characters rarely act their age and situations were rarely treated with the level of seriousness one would expect in reality. I personally wasn’t a fan; it made the book (and characters) feel somewhat juvenile. To be clear, I’m not against a little humor - I think humor could have been used effectively in this book, perhaps to show how Grace is a bright spot in Stephen’s otherwise gloomy life. I’m also not against light, “fluffy” romances, but I do think there’s a difference between fluff and a lack of emotional maturity.

Kingfisher also had a tendency to repeat certain things, which became irritating. Every other page, it seemed like Grace said something about how Stephen smelled like gingerbread, and it got old really fast. I also noticed that constructions like “He’s a paladin, so he...” and the like were used frequently, which did less to show me what Stephen was like and more to tell me what stereotypes are associated with paladins.

Plot: This book mainly follows Stephen and Grace as they become entangled in two main problems: 1. there is a serial killer on the loose, and his modus operandi is leaving behind severed heads, sans bodies; 2. there is a mysterious assassination plot aimed at the Crown Prince of a neighboring kingdom. To be honest, I found the serial killer plot underwhelming. It only seemed to be present to give Stephen an excuse to escort Grace places, and even when we found out who the killer was, I didn’t feel the rush of excitement or a sense of closure. I think perhaps this was because the serial killer plot wasn’t one that readers could try to piece together with the characters - at most, there was a single clue, and then it was solved (but readers can’t even predict the twist, so I didn’t feel any sense of suspense).

As for the assassination plot, I also found it underwhelming. Although it builds better than the serial killer plot, characters started acting in nonsensical - and even idiodic - ways once Grace was personally caught up the drama. I got the sense that characters were acting out of emotion and not reason, which is ok sometimes, but not ALL THE TIME. In general, I didn’t find that this assassination plot was clever, and there wasn’t much that differentiated it from other political intrigues that I’ve read in some YA fantasy.

Characters: Stephen, our hero, is paladin who previously served a warrior god, the Saint of Steel. At the beginning of the book, Stephen’s god dies (we don’t know how), and three years later, he is still struggling to find his purpose. At first, I thought I would like Stephen. He seemed like a gentleman, and he had some non-stereotypical hobbies, like knitting. I also liked that much of his personal turmoil involved some anxiety over how people would perceive him and his Order. The fear that he would succumb to a berserker rage, in particular, was an interesting bit of lore, and I thought this berserker rage could have been used to prompt further exploration of things like violence and hypermasculinity. However, as the book continued, Stephen became more and more bland. For the first half or two-thirds of the book, he resembles a 14 year old’s idea of a safe love interest in that he was perfectly chivalrous and without serious flaws. As time went on and he became more infatuated with Grace, he started getting somewhat possessive. Any man who so much as looked at grace would be subject to murderous fantasies, and while this was probably meant to show that Stephen was jealous and therefore devoted to Grace, I found it ridiculous and childish.

Grace, our heroine, is also rather bland. She’s a perfumer, which itself could have been fun, but her personality is mainly defined by her awkwardness. She also resembles a lot of YA/New Adult heroines in that she insists that she’s not attractive and that no man could be interested in her, despite at least two male characters flirting with her. It was frustrating being in her head, at times, because she would constantly say things like “normal people don’t do this,” making her seem even more awkward and “not like other people.” Her insistence on her mousiness and rather bland characterization made me wonder why anyone was in love with her at all. She moreover didn’t seem to be at qualified to handle the serial killer or assassination mysteries - in fact, I don’t think she ever uses her unique skillset (identifying scents) to help solve either mystery at all.

Marguerite, Grace’s best friend, is a bit more interesting in that she’s a spy with mysterious motivations. Marguerite is better equipped to deal with the assassination plot, as she has various contacts that feed her information and let her into places people wouldn’t normally be able to access. I liked that Marguerite was a good friend to Grace, but she, too, was a bit emotionally stunted.

Other supporting characters were interesting on paper, but because of the writing style, didn’t seem to be as compelling as they could have been. I liked Zale, the gender-neutral (or nonbinary? agender?) lawyer-priest who seemed committed to their calling to defend the helpless in court. Stephen’s fellow paladins also seemed like a supportive group of friends, and the Bishop of the White Rat was an admirable woman of force and personality. I would have liked to see more of them.

Other:

Worldbuilding: This book doesn’t have a lot of heavy worldbuilding, and it honestly didn’t need it. I appreciated the fact that I wasn’t overwhelmed with lore or facts about the kingdom - Kingfisher mostly stuck to what details were important to the plot, and for that, I was grateful.

Romance: Stephen and Grace’s romance was a little lackluster for my tastes. The main barrier to them being together stemmed from Stephen thinking he was too broken and that he might accidentally hurt her by going into a berserker rage (which... how does that still happen if his god is dead?), and Grace thinking that she is so bad at being a lover that it turns men off. Honestly, I don’t find the “I’m so broken and dangerous” angle to be very compelling. I prefer there to be other barriers to characters being together than just emotions - barriers that force some kind of character development and plot progression. In this case, Stephen and Grace don’t seem to grow much. They just get over their reservations, in part because they thought they were going to die at one point.

There were also minor scenes that made me uncomfortable. I love romance stories and don’t mind sex scenes (when they’re warranted, not when they’re gratuitous), but I hate scenes where one person has to avoid detection (by some king of city guard or something), so the other person covers them with their body and they pretend to be a person and prostitute (or something), miming sex to make it seem like they saw nothing. I just find it awkward, not funny or the basis for mutual attraction. The fact that Stephen and Grace meet this way made it all the more awkward for me to read. I guess that was the point, since Grace is a little awkward herself, but I still hate these types of scenes.

I also personally dislike when male characters are described as noticing or thinking about a female character’s bosom. Like, I get it - straight men like breasts. But I don’t want the basis of a relationship to be physical attraction. Do something else. Though I didn’t get the impression that Stephen was a creep, I didn’t like how often the author would mention that Stephen noticed Grace’s body. Grace’s breasts were mentioned a number of times, and it made me uncomfortable every time.

Overall, I felt let down by this book. While I was drawn in by the premise of a crisis of faith and a thrilling web of lies and secrecy, I was met with a formulaic romance that relied on awkwardness to make emotionally arrested characters seem relatable.

[ranger-report]

Thoughts On: HERETIC II (1998)

Just over one year after the release of Hexen II, Raven Software published the final game in their dark fantasy series. Set apart from the Serpent Rider Trilogy of Heretic./Hexen/Hexen II, Heretic II told the tale of Corvus Corax, the elven hero of the first Heretic, and his journey to return home after years of wandering the Outer Worlds. See, defeating one of the Serpent Riders resulted in his being thrown far far away from his origin world of Parthoris, and left to his own devices, he had a bit of a time attempting to make his way back. Marking the first time in the series that id Software had no involvement in the release of the game save for providing the modified id tech 2 engine (AKA the Quake 2 engine), this release was published by Activision under their purview. Moving in the direction of a third-person adventure with first-person shooter mechanics, Raven made it clear that they were going to take inspiration from wherever they could, including a popular little title called Tomb Raider. While garnering favorable reviews, Heretic II would ultimately be lost in the holiday shuffle of PC gaming as it had the unfortunate circumstance to be released one week after a particularly groundbreaking first-person shooter from Valve Software. You may have heard of it: Half-Life. As a result of the unfortunate coincidence and the lackluster response from fans due to the series changes, Heretic II was a commercial flop. But, with all that said, how does Heretic II stack in the lineup of the series it brings to a conclusion? And why has there been no further entries in the series since?

To begin with, the decision to make Heretic II a third person adventure was controversial amongst fans of the series. Yes, the style was popular and gaining traction, and Raven was nothing if not innovators, so the decision to a degree made sense. Why not take their dark fantasy world and put it through the wringer, especially since the main plot of the first three games was now over? Going into this title, I knew I was in for an adjustment period, but I had no idea it would be as shocking as it was. Slow, unintuitive camera movement coupled with clunky, lackluster controls make the game much more of a chore to play than the original games. Gone is the fast-paced combat, replaced with deliberately paced enemy encounters. Picking up heavily on the Tomb Raider inspiration, Corvus can leap, flip, roll, and somersault his way around the maps. Points for inspiration. But man’s -- er, elf’s -- reach exceeds his grasp, and while this sounds well and good on paper, molasses-like reaction times feel more like directing Corvus through waist-high water instead of the nimble acrobatics the game shoots for. Animations, graphics, sound design, everything on a technical level is top notch stuff. Corvus himself has a modeled backbone to allow for more fluid animations, shown off in his running, fighting, and even idle cycles. It’s impressive stuff that the gameplay just can’t seem to live up to on an engaging level. Heretic II feels like an attempt to return to the form of the first Heretic, but through the lens of a team who’s never played the first one. Rather than using different types of mana for ammunition, green mana is reserved for offensive spells, blue mana for defensive spells, and most weapons have unique ammunition types. Gone, too, is the inventory system of carrying items and objects for future use; instead, Corvus automatically uses any health or magic pickups he comes across, something which is bolstered by shrines which either completely refill mana, health, or armor points. When it comes to story, one must wonder which direction the intent was headed. Perhaps the original vision of Hecatomb was to come full circle with Corvus and face the final Serpent Rider after being outcast from the realms. The scattershot nature of the plot here doesn’t seem to suggest it, however.

As Corvus progresses, he returns to his home of Parthoris to discover a strange disease has taken over the land, changing the elves into diseased, violent versions of themselves. After being attacked, Corvus himself is infected, initiating his quest to discover a cure, and stop the mad magus Morcalavin. On an interesting note, it turns out that Morcalavin has collected the Seven Tomes of Power to aid him in magic use, but one of the Tomes is a fake and is the cause of the infection -- Corvus has been carrying the seventh Tome with him since Heretic. A bit of revisionist history considering that Tomes of Power have been consumable items since Heretic, and there were many more than seven. Noting this change to lore, Corvus simply needs to replace the fake Tome with the true one, and that should reverse Morcalavin’s corrupted power. Another noteworthy change is that the hub system of the previous games is also gone, replaced with a similar map progression to Heretic. Some maps are linear exercises in traveling from start to finish, others require moving about the many layers of the map to collect and bring together keys and objects. This is one of the largest departures from the previous games -- this story is far more intimate, more structured, more character-driven with cutscenes, dialogue, worldbuilding not seen in prior entries. Before, we were simply nameless warriors moving through dark fantasy worlds, kicking ass, taking names, killing gods and monsters alike. Here, we get to know one of said warriors by name and history. Yes, before now, Corvus was never actually named in his first appearance. He was simply “The Heretic” which was FAR more badass, although Corvus Corax is up there on the list of great fantasy names with ease. But, rather than a ride, this game wants to tell a story, watering down the experience. Whether Raven can tell a good story in other games is besides the point; here, the slipshod nature of the shoestring story attempting to provide a bit more theatricality feels tacked on, an oddity. Sure, perhaps the evolutionary nature of progression is where Raven felt the need to provide an actual factual story with their action game, also again from the inspiration of Tomb Raider slipping in, but it doesn’t hit the mark, nor age well in particular. Here we can see the beginnings of action games moving forward out of simple exercises in running and shooting, but telling stories with cinematic flair. Half-Life did the same, but with striking results, and far less awkward dialogue. And then, furthering the frustratingly bland story is the abrupt ending, in which the villain is cleansed of his corruption and ascends to godhood the way he intended, but leaving behind his power to Corvus in order to protect the world. So the bad guy....wins? But has become a good guy?

So, the question must be asked: what happened? Where Hexen II showed little of the changes that Raven were forced to make when new owner Activision mandated that they split the Heretic and Hexen series into separate entities, this game bears the unfortunate weight of that departure. As previously mentioned, the planned third game in the Serpent Rider Trilogy, Hecatomb, was divided into two games post-mandate, the ideas of which also went in two separate directions. John Romero has made frequent commentary in the past about the separation of the games as products vs a proper trilogy. He’d been involved with Hecatomb until his departure from id Software, which was also around the time that Raven was purchased by Activision. The publishing giant, he notes, split up the Raven team who had worked on the Heretic/Hexen games, further increasing the divide of the products. According to one of his accounts, one team worked on all three Serpent Rider games before the split, at which point that team was divided amongst the three in-house developing teams that already existed. While Brian Raffel, the mind behind the game series, was present and active on Heretic II, not everyone who’d put their passion into the rest of the series was there for the creation of this game. This shows in the final product. 

With that in mind, it seems a little unfair to judge this game as harshly as I am. Perhaps we should be examining it, looking at the interesting bit of gaming history it represents. It marks a point in time where Raven, having experienced fair success on their own through working with technology giant id Software and other publishers, has become a corporate-owned entity. This is, in fact, the first game by Raven to be published exclusively by Activision. Eventually, Raven Software would be conscripted by Activision into the Holy Trinity of Call of Duty developers, rotating in and out making new COD games so they can come out yearly. What legacy, then, does this particular game leave? There is a mark here, a brand, a scar, a sign of things to come. Mandates from above demanding two franchises instead of one, an ironic analogy of the division of Raven from id Software -- Heretic II may have been published and distributed exclusively by Activision, but id Software published the previous games, and held publishing rights to those games. Meanwhile, the transfer of copyright went to Activision, putting future games into a pickle. Activision no doubt has little interest in creating new games in a series when they can’t make money from previous entries. Furthering problems is that Heretic II does not exist in digital format, probably again due to Activision unable to profit from sales of the prior games; a casual copyright search for Heretic II in the public record comes up with zero results, effectively placing the game as abandonware. With Raven owned by Activision, and id owned by Bethesda (formerly Zenimax), establishing cooperation between the two giants may seem difficult to impossible at this point.

What a shame for the final entry in what began as such a promising series to end limping across the finish line. In my research I found quite a few people who were glowing with nostalgic praise for Heretic II, and why not? In the opening level of Silverspring, we’re greeted with a run down town disparaged by the rampant virus. Flies zip back and forth and Corvus slaps his neck to be rid of them; children cry in the distance, dripping water echoing reminds of the empty nature of this place. All the environments in the game are rife with audio and visual treats that literally drip with atmosphere and character. There is a strange amount of life here, in a living world that feels interesting and worth exploring. But the controls and story fall flat, alongside the abysmal decision to make the game a third person adventure instead of the first person shooters of the previous entries. Whether or not we’ll ever see a proper new entry into the Heretic/Hexen world is, unfortunately, something that remains to be seen. Spiritual successors, such as AMID EVIL and the upcoming Graven reap the fields which were sown of Hexen’s seeds. Activision and Bethesda may never see eye to eye on the subject of reviving Heretic or Hexen or maybe even the fabled Hecatomb, but one thing is clear: regardless of the corporate greed which aborted the lifespan of this wonderful series, the first three games of this series live on as passionate exercises in dark fantasy, examples of how to push the FPS genre forward while remaining firmly grounded in what makes it work. Heretic II is the Crystal Skull of this series -- many will find themselves better off forgetting it ever happened. Activision certainly has. And again, how ironic is it, that the very mandate which they laid down in order to spawn new sequels and twin franchises led to the death of them.

[micahrodney]

Thread; Chapter 1 - Lost Boy

The following was a commissioned piece for MatthewCaveatZealot. Awakening with a start, Neil managed to bash his head on the ceiling of his dorm room. He collapsed back into his loft bed, running his hands across his temple.  He had always known this was a distinct possibility with his sleeping arrangement; there was barely three feet of clearance between his mattress and the unsettling popcorn-style stucco which always left flakes in his bedding. The only damage appeared to be a mild contusion, and a slightly hurt ego. The boy glanced at the alarm clock, which was inelegantly tucked into a corner of the frame, cord precariously taut.

8:35 AM

“Shit!” Neil cursed.

In his panic, he practically hurled himself over the rail of his loft. Fortunately, his faded blue bean bag chair – presently covered by a week's worth of dirty laundry – broke his fall. Fishing in the bureau just beneath his bed, he managed to dig out a clean pair of jeans and a grey tee.

As he reached for his bookbag, he noticed he'd left his computer on. The dull white of a Lotus document was burning into the monitor. Upon reading the salutation of “Dear Erica” the previous night's phone call came rushing back to him; three years discarded in two minutes.  He had trouble saying what he needed to say in that call. Truthfully, the shock of it had rendered him phased out of reality. There was a hollowness that consumed him upon hearing those words, an emptiness that had to be embraced lest it consume him.  

He couldn't even bring himself to cry.  Tears would only validate the nightmare.  That had to be it:  a nightmare.  One that he would wake up from in a day or two when she called him back and apologized.  When she remembered how happy they had been together and realized what she was giving up. After a few hours, he had passed from denial to bargaining. Every possible scenario played through in his head simultaneously, from magnanimous acceptance of her apology to him banging at her door and pleading to take him back.  That was when the rational approach of writing her a letter presented itself.  

Without bothering to save the document, he flipped the switch. The dull fizzling sound was always a strange comfort.  To Neil, it represented the end of a day.  Maybe that's how he should view Erica: just another chapter in his life that he would move past.  And maybe, like the document itself, there really was nothing worth saving there anyway.  

--- 

Voxton was once a whistle-stop town just outside of the state capitol.  It was the home of an active farm community, and the state's number one exporter of unemployed drunks looking for better opportunity in “the big city”.  Then somebody decided to build a college there in the wake of the 1973 stock market crash, presumably with hopes of turning the state's fortune around.  

McCain University – presumably named for its founder, though Neil had never bothered to find out – had grown to become something of a Mecca for the technically inclined. If you wanted to break into engineering or computer science, you went to McCain, assuming your parents weren't wealthy or connected enough to ship you off to MIT.  

Thanks to a grant from the Governor, the school had an entire campus building dedicated to the most powerful machines on the market. Perhaps this was why Neil insisted upon using a personal computer from the 80s, despite the fact that his father had offered many times to buy him something newer.  

The IBM 386 was more than a little dated, but the chunky machine could do the important things in his life.  Sure his classes had him learning on top-of-the-line Power Macintosh hardware, but it had been the computer he grew up with.  Its impressive 32 MB memory was stuffed with the text-adventure games of INFOCOM.  While his first love would always be Zork, it was the murder-mystery Moonmist that made him want to become a writer.

These dual interests had conflicted before, and while Neil's father was supportive he was also wary.  Writing, after all, was a hard market to break into.  But computer technology was in high demand and only rising.  When he had embarrassingly tried to connect with his son by saying maybe he could learn to make “some of those Nintendo games”, Neil had politely laughed and agreed to consider it.  The boy's consideration didn't take long.  As a lawyer, his dad always was the better negotiator.  Perhaps it was overkill to mention that it is what his mother would have wanted.

Neil opened the door to his usual morning haunt, a student-run coffee shop called “The Junction”.  The place was barely bigger than his dorm, but they also had the best muffins in Voxton.  He stumbled up to the register and barely sputtered out his order before his bookbag slipped off of his shoulder, sending his notebooks scattering.  

“Damn,” Neil cursed.  “Sorry, Angie.  A blueberry muffin and a coffee to go please!”

“Running late again, Neil?” The senior asked, tying her long ebony hair back with a scrunchy.

“I know, they're lucky to have me as a student,” Neil mumbled bitterly, shoving the papers haphazardly back into his bag.  

“Four bucks. Your dad's Amex, I trust?”  Angie replied, extending her hand.  

“Cash today.  I forgot to grab my wallet, but luckily there was a five in my jeans,” Neil chuckled benignly, handing her the bill.  

“Moving up in the world.”

“Tell me about it.”  

“Lemme grab your breakfast, champ,” Angie smirked.  

Neil took his change and leaned back against the bar.  The place wasn't really all that bad.  Sure two people couldn't walk side-by-side behind the bar, but the little brick shack was alright. He had particularly liked the ironic name.  Before the University reclaimed land for a parking lot the place had been a rail depot. The result were tracks that didn't lead anywhere just behind the restaurant and for few miles north and south respectively.  

“And in offbeat news today,” droned a local news anchor on the 16 inch TV in the corner of the bar. “IBM supercomputer 'Deep Blue' went six games against chess grandmaster Garry Kasparov yesterday. Although Kasparov won the match with four games to Deep Blue's two, this is the first time a computer has ever defeated a world champion under tournament regulations. Truly this is a sign of things to come. Just how more advanced can these computers get?”  

“Neil!” Angie called, snapping her fingers in front of his face.  “Muffin, coffee, late for Computer Theory 221, remember?”  

“Right, sorry!” Neil sputtered, grabbing his food and bolting out the door.  

---

“Mr. Brown. How nice of you to grace us with your presence.”

Professor Barker was generally a nice guy, but Neil had tried his patience one too many times.  Tardiness was just one of Neil's offenses against the would-be silicon valley elite.  In short, Barker didn't like his attitude.  He didn't like that Neil would sit through his classes, mind clearly on other things. But what he hated worse was the fact that Neil continued to ace every assignment in spite of his lackluster classroom performance.  It wasn't Neil's fault that he felt he got very little out of the lecture hall experience, preferring instead to study on his own time.  

“Sorry, sir,” Neil apologized half-heartedly.  “Rough night.”  

“Wait until you become an adult, then you'll learn what a real rough night is,” Barker scolded.  

The aging technician looked like a slightly sunkissed Steve Wozniak.  He had the beard and the plaid collar shirts, but his face was a bit more rugged.  Barker had learned computers while serving in the Army during the 70s.  The synthesis was a computer nerd who looked like he used to beat kids up for their lunch money.  

“Now that Mr. Brown has found his seat,” Barker sighed.  “Let's resume. Where were we now?  Ah, yes! The potential of virtual reality.  Now, this ain't your 'Virtual Boy', we're talking about actual virtual reality.”

Barker was nothing if not fond of the sound of his own voice.  The lecture was more or less him pontificating about the achievements that had been accomplished with the budding technology and his wild-eyed fantasies of future use.  Of particular note, Barker's assertion that we could one day use virtual reality to explore the entire planet's history in first-person seemed especially romantic.  

“Imagine, if you would, you put on a visor and are instantly transported to the wild west.  With a few mouse clicks, you are in the Roman Empire, or watching the building of the Great Pyramid of Giza.”

A loud digitized beep came from the clock just over the door. It was already 11 AM.

“Ah, well, I seem to have rambled on right to the end of class,” Barker chuckled. “Alright, that's a good stopping point anyway.  I'll let you head out.  Mr. Brown, a word.”

The students began to pack up and make their way towards the door, as Neil marched down the steps of the lecture hall, prepared for his weekly chew-out session.  The beard of the middle-aged educator seemed to twitch in anticipation and annoyance.  

“Neil, do you want to be in this class?” Barker asked bluntly.  

“Yes sir,” Neil stoically replied.

“You know the class starts at 8:30 AM every Monday and Wednesday, right?”

“Yep.”

“The winter semester has only just started and in the six classes we've had together you have been on time to one of them.”

“That's correct, sir.”

Barker sighed and waved his hands about in front of him as if he was grasping for something to strike him with.  

“I don't know what you expect from me,” Barker steadied his hands and pointed a finger in Neil's face. “But I know I expect from you. I can't have you barging in after the class starts.  If I have to lock that door, I'll do it.  Your work is good, but if you want to stay in my class I expect you to show up on time.”  

“I understand sir.”

“Well, I hope so,” Barker grumbled. “I'm not kidding about that lock either.”

---

Monday was, by design, Neil's easiest day.  He only had the one class, and he used the remainder of the day to run errands.  So as soon as Barker let him out, his first stop was to the Store24 to pick up some groceries.  Considering his food storage options in his dorm was a mini-fridge and the top shelf of his closet, he only wound up with two bags and a twelve-pack of the store-brand cola.  

He dropped off the bare essentials of sustenance and took a brief moment to tidy his room.  There wasn't much cause to impress anyone, but he felt compelled to use the time. It felt better to accomplish something – anything – rather than waiting around for the day to end.  

The next two hours were spent overseeing a load of laundry in the dormitory laundromat. It was pretty depressing, featuring bare stone walls and illuminated by a single dirt-specked window. with a line of six washers and four driers on opposite sides of the room from each other.  There was a table in the middle, slightly off-set from the window in a way that mildly infuriated Neil. There were technically chairs, but two metal folding chairs took a certain wear-and-tear over the decades and had never been replaced.

Neil found himself sitting on the edge of the table, staring out that window and reflecting on the bizarre dream that had woken him with such a start.  The events of the day had driven out most of the fantastic experience from his mind, but bits and pieces still lingered.  Those omnipresent voices, speaking in grand detail about him.  An idyllic planet that was repeatedly destroyed. The beast from within the pit, as Neil was bound and helpless on a web of light.  

He considered whether or not he wanted to try and duplicate the effects of his lucid dreaming again tonight. Was it a story worth picking up? Or did he want to find himself once again at the genuine mercy of some phantasm?

A low blare came from the drier, in what was more than once mistaken for a fire alarm.

Discarding the shards of his recollection, he set about folding his clothes for about five minutes, before hastily shoving the rest of his clothes into his basket and resolving to just “do it later”.  This was perhaps his favorite lie.  

So it was, at 3:00 PM, Neil found himself back in his room with nothing else on the docket.  The young scholar now had to decide between drowning his mounting sorrows in video games, television, or – if he were feeling particularly adventurous – both at the same time.  

Looking to a torn up photo of Erica on his desk, he considered what he would be doing if last night's conversation had not happened. The weekends were theirs and sometimes she would visit him Monday night as well, to hit up a movie when it wasn't crowded with people.  She wasn't a terribly social girl, and Neil had always done his best to accommodate that.  

They both used to joke about how she was a “cheap date”.  She was the kind of person who genuinely enjoyed an experience-driven rendezvous.  Erica would much rather walk through the Voxton arboretum or take in one of the free community light-shows at the planetarium rather than actually go out and spend money.  

On their first date, Neil had nearly blown his chance with her by trying to flaunt his dad's wealth.  He had been given $100 to “impress the girl” with.  Erica, in that way she always did, knocked him flat on his ass.

“I'm not here to get to know your money, I'm here to get to know you,” she said, before insisting on having dinner at the cheapest restaurant in Voxton, where she paid for her own meal.  

The wake-up call had worked, and he loosened up considerably; enough so that she was agreeable to a second date.  In spite of the rough start, they had gotten along famously.  But apparently not as well as he had thought.

A knock on his door disrupted Neil from his day-dreaming.  

“Hey man, open up.  You're decent, right?”

Neil chuckled as he opened up the door.  His friend Damian could only be described as “dashing”.  The heart-throb of choice for all the girls when they were in high school together, his looks had only improved with age.  

“Did they finally let you in?” Neil teased.  

“Dude, they let you in,” Damian retorted.  “If I wanted in, I'd be in.  But money is good in the sales game.”  

“You work in retail.”

“Retail sales.  If I sell ten computers, they give me $50 of store credit,” Damian replied with a dismissive wave of his hand.  “Anyway, we doing dinner?  My treat.  Gotta cheer up my sad-sack friend, don't I?”

“Damian, you don't have to-”

“Nah, brother, I insist,” Damian smiled, patting Neil on the back.  “Breakups hurt. I've been here, and you're gonna be fine.  We will eat, drink, be merry and this weekend we will go out dancing and find a girl to make you forget all about her.”  

It was this benevolent nature that led to the two becoming friends in the first place.  In middle-school, they were both slightly awkward, but Damian had the further disadvantage of being an immigrant.  His mother Tabitha had fled Egypt shortly after that assassination of Anwar Sadat, carrying along a four-year-old Damian with her.  

The pubescent Damian was dealing with bullying and trying to adapt to both a new country and a stepfather who Neil had never met.  The two had met while Damian was hiding out in the library during one fateful lunch and they managed to hit it off over Lloyd Alexander's Prydain Chronicles. Neil had just started reading The Black Cauldron, but Damian was already on Taran Wanderer. A young boy's excitement to talk about his favorite fantasy series led to the longest-lasting friendship either of them had enjoyed. 

“Damian, I'm not sure if I really want to 'forget' about her, you know?” Neil sighed. “But I don't really need to get into that now.”

“Why not now?” Damian asked. “Take the time, friend.  Dinner can wait.”  

“It just seems kinda,” Neil struggled to find the words.  “Pointless.  I mean she's made her decision.  I have no idea why, but she made it clear she was done with me.”  

“Your feelings aren't pointless,” Damian replied, tapping his chest for emphasis.  “It's all we really have in this world.  Of course, if you don't want to talk, I won't make you.  But, uh, make a decision quick.  I skipped lunch.”

Neil laughed and opted to continue keeping his thoughts concealed. At least for now.  

“Alright.  Dealer's choice,” Neil said.  

“What a dangerous power you've given me,” Damian chuckled.  “Thai food it is.”  

---

This one is hard to position.  The thread is destabilizing.  

Neil was not dreaming.  The voice was not in his head. It was just on the opposite side of his dormitory door.  The room around him was shrouded in darkness, and only the door was illuminated.  If he could just reach out and grab the handle...  

A terrible weight was dragging him down, and his limbs felt as though they were made of concrete.  A biting cold was gnawing at him, and there was a presence just behind him. Somewhere in that darkness, a great unseen thing wanted to devour him.  Panic seized him as he flailed his useless forelimbs at the impossible contraption.  A doorknob; he had seen thousands of these.  But his brain could not process how to manipulate one.  

With looming annihilation mere inches from him, he resorted to throwing all of his weight at the wooden barrier, hoping it would yield under the force of what, to Neil, felt like two tons of his own mass.

If the thread is lost, we lose the Binder.  This is unacceptable.

“Nox?” Neil called out, vaguely remembering the kindly voice from the other night.  

We are here, Binder.  Patience.  We will pull you into our realm.  You will not be sundered.  

At this pronouncement, a hideous shriek invaded Neil's mind. The darkness wrapped around the young man and began to flay him, leaving crimson marks on his arm.  By the time the third sinewy tendril had lashed him across the face, he felt an uncomfortably familiar tug around his midsection as he was dragged out of the darkness and through the door, beyond which lay the sea of stars from his prior visit.  

As the distant sparks sailed past him, the memory of that Eden weight heavily upon his mind.  He wanted to see it again, and yet he could not bear to watch it be destroyed once more.  The thought of having to relive the same disaster over and over again throughout eternity was unbearable. How many times would he have to suffer the same loss?  How many people would abandon him to the darkness of his own mind?  

Hey Neil, it's Dad.  Hope you've had a good Monday.  You're probably out with Erica, but I just wanted to get in touch with you about... well, your mother's remembrance.  It won't be a big social gathering like last year's.  Basically just gonna be your siblings and me, but we wanted to coordinate with you. Just give me a call back when you can.  I love you.  

His father didn't know yet.  Of course, why would he?  That was only last night?

Focus on the moment, Binder!

Rem's voice was as stern and monotone as ever, but with a renewed sense of urgency. There was a planet on the horizon, but it was no paradise.  The world was molten rock and scattered space-dust, perhaps one in the process of still being formed.  Or was this was had remained of the other world after the disaster?  

See past the reality of your eyes, Binder. They are not a reliable path to truth, Nox urged.  

He is weighed down by his emotional attachment to his own thread.  We are losing him, Rem added.  

The planet was quite hot, and Neil felt his flesh beginning to sear as he drew ever closer to it.  He closed his eyes as he fell through the atmosphere of a dying world, the weight of his grief dragging him into oblivion.

[roamingholiday]

Friday, August 11th 2017

There is nothing good about waking up at 3:30 in the morning. Nothing.

We sat in exhausted silence around the kitchen table. I shared the last of my rice crispies with my roommate, because we needed to get something in our stomachs before leaving, but were so tired that we felt slightly sick.

We called a car at four, and got tot he airport by 4:45. I’m sure you’re very surprised to learn that there was practically no one on the road.

The car ride was also spent in silence, because everyone was too busy nodding off against the windows to make conversation.

There was a similar lack of people at the airport at 5:00 in the morning, so we got through security fairly easily. I think. I don’t actually remember that bit, but we certainly were all there past security when we found an open drug store where we could get sandwiches and wake up a little with second breakfast.

The flight was equally unmemorable. I assume I slept, or perhaps I simply stared at the ceiling for the amount of time it took. It was only about an hour, after all, so I really could have blinked and been there, practically, even without sleeping.

Our seats were near the back, all grouped together so that my entire row was people that I knew. That was very pleasant, made the whole did-I-accidentally-drift-onto-your-shoulder-in-my-sleep conversation at the end much less awkward. We disembarked the plane from the back as well, which was the first time I’ve done that. Walked down the steps right onto the tarmac. The stinging cold air of the Irish morning did a fairly good job of shocking me awake, as did the unusual route into the airport, which involved wandering past several planes, all of which were fairly…. distinctive.

I thought the four-leaf clover thing was some kind of rude American stereotype, but clearly I was mistaken.

We had no luggage to collect other than our carry-ons, so we made fairly good time out of the airport- until immigration.

My roommate, though from America, is a citizen of the EU.

(Well, actually, she’s a citizen of Britain, so no longer of the EU, but she’s still got an EU passport, is the important thing.)

She went into a separate line from us, and we all felt very guilty, staying together like this while she was all alone. That is, until it became clear that she’d waltzed through in about ten minutes, and gone on to find a comfortable seat to wait for us to stand for an hour waiting to be let into the country. Ugh. Is it too much to ask for a comfortable chair on wheels to carry me through the line while I take a nap? Is it?

After that, which was just lovely, really, we reconvened just outside the exit, and discovered that no one had a plan for the rest of the day. We spent a full hour in line, and never once did we think to have any sort of discussion about what we would do now that we’d successfully made it to the country. Perhaps we were all anticipating spending the weekend being detained by Irish immigration.

After a long conversation that mostly went something like:

“What should we do?”

“I’m tired.”

“We can’t check into the air B&B until 2.”

“Okay, so what should we do.”

“Is there anywhere we can nap?”

“…. We can’t check in until 2.”

“Okay, so what should we do?”

“…. Sleep?”

We finally decided to go find some traditional Irish breakfast, so that at least if we ended up sleeping the rest of the day away, we’d done something productive in Ireland beforehand.

We googled a place, found a taxi big enough for the five of us (which is very difficult to do, by the way, outside of the US), and asked him to take us there. About halfway through the ride, we also came to the realization that along with typically being smaller, taxis in Ireland didn’t take credit cards. Thus began a frantic search through bags to make sure we had euro, because of course they use a different currency. Of course Britain had to go and be special and not standardize its money, and make life hard for poor American students.

We found it, eventually, luckily several of our party had previously been in France during this trip and had enough leftover euro to pay the driver, but it was a traumatizing couple of minutes.

The breakfast place was lovely, and we had what I now realize was our third breakfast of the day. Neither my roommate nor I felt that we could finish a full Irish breakfast on our own, but the mini Irish looked very small, so we ordered a mini and a full, and then I gave her my toast and my beans, and she gave me her bacon and one of her eggs. Neither of us touched the black pudding. Our stomachs were still rather rocky from getting about two hours of sleep and then flying, so we were not feeling particularly adventurous, but several of our other friends actually tried it. Apparently it’s essentially like sausage patties, if they were overcooked and somewhat tragic. And looked terrible.

Of course, because we’re all very mature vaguely 20ish year olds, when we left the cafe and noticed a couple pieces of playground equipment in the area right next-door, we definitely did not drop all of our bags in a heap and sprint for the spinning spider-web cone. We definitely didn’t all get on and make one of our friends spin us on it, nor did we in any way nearly fall off because we leaned back too far and were caught off-guard by the effect of centrifugal force.  We didn’t let our phones fly out of our pockets because we were stupid enough to do any of that with them tucked loosely into sweatshirt pockets.

And we particularly didn’t do that after eating a big, rich breakfast, when we were all feeling slightly queasy to begin with. Because that would be ridiculous. Completely and utterly ridiculous. Childish and silly.

Definitely not something that I would absolutely go back and do again without a second of hesitation.

After we did not spend an embarrassing (and very fun, no regrets, even with the topsy turvy tummy) amount of time playing with equipment definitely built for five year olds, we discovered that we could go to our airB&B earlier than two, so we took taxis again. We were far too tired to puzzle out public transportation in a strange city.

Our airB&B was divine, though, well worth the wait.

It appeared to be made entirely from IKEA showrooms, but I’ve always wanted to live in an IKEA showroom, so.

And I had it all to myself because there were enough bedrooms that only one pair had to share.

My room was also the only one on the ground floor, which meant that, though I did have the street right outside my window, and all the noise that that implies, I also had the kitchen right next-door, which was very nice.

We all took a short tour around our house, deemed it acceptable, and then promptly retired to our rooms for a well-deserved nap. It was around one in the afternoon.

“We’ll meet up at three!” we said. “We’ll all set alarms and be ready to go explore Dublin!” we said.

At about 4:30, I heard a few footsteps come down the stairs, and discovered that two of my four friends had roused themselves enough to come downstairs and make a lackluster attempt at looking through the collection of magazine clippings detailing the various restaurants that the homeowner recommended.

We can at least have dinner somewhere interesting, we figured.

Of course, there were no good restaurants around us, and we had very few euro left, so we had to either try to find a cab company that would seat five people and also take credit cards, or we had to find out how to use public transportation.

I figured that one out, actually, thank you very much. Apparently there is an extensive bus system in Dublin but, much like the buses in Philadelphia, they only take exact change. Which would be exceedingly difficult to come across for us, who had no european change. Alternatively, there was a bus card, like an Oyster card or a metro card or whatever the new Philadelphia transpass system is called, and it could be purchased at about 400 different sites around the city.

The only difficulty is that the website could not tell us where those sites were found relative to us, so I had to painstakingly type in each name into googlemaps and hope that one of them would be in walkable distance.

Fortunately, there was one, only about half a mile away, so I semi-confidently (I will never be absolutely confident with directions, never) led my group of starving, bleary-eyed friends to a place that I hoped would sell us Leap cards.

Aren’t they just adorable?

The place turned out to be a gas station that not only could sell us all leap cards, but had an ATM, which took a load off of all of us, to be honest. There’s something very comforting about having the correct currency when going around a foreign city for the first time.

The bus ride to the restaurant that my friends had found was lovely, and the restaurant was entertaining. It was a pub, technically, which usually means that you order food at the bar, but instead here you ordered food at what was essentially a buffet station, where all of the options were laid out in front of you, and you got to watch them carve off your slices of ham, or chicken, or what have you, and then hand your plate to another person who would dish up a vegetable and a potato of your choice. Ireland does not kid around when it comes to potatoes, by the way.

(Which is super entertaining, really, because potatoes were originally a ‘new world’ crop, so they’re not native to ireland at all. Just like how tomatoes are a staple of Italian cuisine despite being only introduced in the last millennia, after they made it to the ‘new world’ and figured out that those big, suspicious red fruits were actually edible. Food history is interesting.)

I ended up getting a shepherd’s pie, which was an excellent decision, because I love shepherd’s pie, and I hadn’t had it yet since I’d gotten to Europe.

A very excellent decision.

The food was great, the atmosphere was lovely, and the entire pub was crowded full of people for some sports game thing that I definitely did not pay any attention to.

My friends stayed longer, but I ended up taking the bus home to finish writing the paper outline that was due at midnight that day. The outline came together well, though, so it was a good end to an… interesting day.

Let me reiterate, though. Nothing is worth waking up at three in the morning. Nothing.

[sparda3g]

Fairy Tail Chapter 538 Review

The series remembers that we have over 5 chapters to go. That or old Mashima decides to make one final move. Whatever the case it may be, he’s either going for broke to cause the mayhem one more time or it could be a huge trick. One would probably imagine Red Wedding of terror, though that’s out of realm. However, if the series wants to do one last bang, at least it’s going to try and that’s all I can ask for at this point.

It’s funny because this chapter almost feels like it was planning to stretch out the ending as long as it can; as if Mashima doesn’t know what to do with the spare chapters. After getting through with the chapter, it does appear it was meant to create a false ending as one final trick is about to occur. Now, maybe it could be some kind of Bio-Broly from Dragon Ball Z Movie 11 moment, where it was going to be something explosive, only cut really short. Whatever it is, for the ending sake, it at least going to do one attempt and I welcomed it.

The chapter majority plays off a false ending, meaning it has the atmosphere that the War is over and there’s nothing else to fear but probably trip on a broken platform. The Book of END does disappear and supposedly, Natsu can no longer be affected by the death of Zeref. Well, he had a great cheat code, so it’s understandable, like it or not, that it would occur that way. It plays off like it’s the moment of truth, which I knew it was going to be well. Sure enough, Natsu is fine and everything was at peace.

We have plenty of chapters to go, so I was getting ready to see how the ending would play out. Although after series of strange decisions in writing and disappointing outcomes, I still want to see how the ending plays out since going back to Mashima’s last work, he can create a nice ending. Maybe not for the final fight, especially here, but for the ending, he can do so. Now that I remember his last work, it does consist on something “life changing” only to find its way to make it happy; I begin to think if I should expect it from here.

I would say this I do find myself liking this chapter more than the last two. I like the calming atmosphere with Natsu and others; reminding me of the old days before the series gone off the rail. I know people would like to say, “It’s always bad, bwahahahaha” but I do give credits where it due to series I am not fond of. You sort of wish that it remained that way with the adventure, swapping partners, and have a fun time. In here, we have the original main characters, Happy included, gathered in one area.

We do get to see Erza and Jellal one more time, reassuring that he is alive and now he has to work on his future rather than trying to die for the greater good. It was short, but since it was only a reminder, it didn’t take the time away from the focus of what it was trying to accomplish. On the upside, Jellal may finally reevaluate his life and start thinking straight. That is if everything is over.

The part where Natsu and others start walking is like everything that reminisces the good old days; almost like we are being mocked. They already have an adventure plan and while that Aquarius’ stunt was lackluster, it at least shows that they didn’t act like the series just end just cause. While some series are reasonable with its end, some made it out to be end of everything. The point is everyone is back together and already wants to go back to making adventure.

Then Natsu disappears, as if they were talking to a ghost.

I don’t think he disappeared forever. For all we know, he probably went to another location for some reason. On the other hand, he could play off as a character that goes away for a long time, only to return just right before the series completely ends. It has happened a lot in anime/manga, so perhaps this could be the same. So I think before the very end of this chapter.

I would give credit to the art work as it is once again pretty solid. As the chapter doesn’t offer much content, it offers a good go-home feel moment with its atmosphere. It actually feels a bit tender to see the original cast in one area, walking and talking about their next plan. While I think the ending will be a happy one, the disappearance did hurt it and I was a bit bummed out. It’s not on the writing; it’s just my personal interest. His disappearance, temporary or not, could play an effect for the real problem.

The chapter ends with a cliffhanger that could go in many ways. The Timelapse may not actually stop Acnologia after all and it may be him escaping from there. That would mean the others are not dead, though if he is back, I’ll take it. The other prediction is maybe it will be just Ichiya and Anna making their return, and I could imagine the reaction from the fans. Lastly, it could be a negative effect of using Timelapse in work, which may be breaking time and space. We do have a good amount of chapters left, so whatever it is, go for broke.

The chapter is more calming and good felt moment. After last couple of chapters of missteps, it’s easier to breeze and accept the chapter for its soothing atmosphere. While the problem may not last long, or even the cliffhanger may not lead to something danger, I do appreciate the artwork and scenery display of good old times.

[dreamerydoll]

My Thoughts On Digimon Adventure tri.: Loss

... a lot of things about the newest Digimon tri movie don’t really make sense and leave more questions than answers... 4 movies into a 6 movie series...

Biyomon being mean to Sora makes no sense, her character changed entirely after her memory was erased. Before she was sweet and caring, but then they made her... angsty and borderline abusive to Sora... for no reason at all. Sora accidentally stepped on Yokomon’s flower petal (why she was laying on the ground like that I’m not entirely sure... just moments before this she was with everyone else at the beach so it’s not like she was taking a nap...) and then suddenly she absolutely HATES Sora and... it just didn’t work. No explanation as to how Meiko got to the digital world. Personally I like Meiko’s character but she is being handled horribly... they’re doing all of the wrong things when it comes to introducing a new character to an already established cast. Fans aren’t going to want to accept change and a new face, that’s with any series (though, personally I appreciate it) so when writing one single character into the plot you have to do it carefully... try to make her likable so that people will care about her character so they’ll be more likely to care about her contribution to the story. They just wrote her in, gave her one personality trait, had her do little to nothing, all while being the partner to the most destructive and threatening digimon companion out of the main characters. This also brings me to Meicoomon... she doesn’t seem to be very consistent in terms of personality... every digimon and chosen child has a dynamic that just works for them. Jou and Gomamon are a very good example of this, they bring out aspects of each other that you wouldn’t normally see... this goes for all of them, their personalities all complement one another. With Meicoomon and Meiko it’s not like this though, they have no actual chemistry... the partnership doesn’t feel real to me and this is coming from a person who likes Meiko and wants to see it.

Also Meicoomon throwing temper tantrums isn’t... good. She’s far too destructive, I understand she is supposed to be like a baby but... the scene when she literally attacked Meiko for not appearing in the digital world sooner was... bad. She could have seriously hurt her, Meiko is just a normal human so Meicoomon attacking her continuously just makes no sense no matter how upset she got. Also Meicoomon is an adult digimon I believe too (like Gatomon/Tailmon) so it kind of makes it even worse. Now... I know this isn’t a complaint about this movie specifically but I’m also going to add... Meicoomon’s design doesn’t match any of the other digimon’s designs at all... she sticks out and it’s not in a way I would call very... good.

The way Meiko and Meicoomon were introduced and treated up to this point have been awful and even though I personally am very happy to see her and Hikari sharing a poster for the next film... I can understand why at this point others who don’t like her character might feel upset, because the writing has given us no real reason to care about Meiko at all. I only like her because I like her design and personality, not because of her role in the story or any of her actions... I also believe that adding just one character to an already established cast makes it a lot harder for them to blend and fit in... now... Digimon has a lot of characters already and is suffering from pacing and plot issues so I’m not sure if I can say that would be fixed by adding another chosen child along with Meiko so that they can bounce off of each other and the rest of the cast and make their inclusions feel more organic... because these are movies, not only is there not enough time to do all of that but everything has to be paced a specific way so that it works as a movie. Which kind of brings me to my next point...

Digimon Tri doesn’t really work as a set of movies... or a set of separate episodes to me. There is a lot going on in the plot, honestly... far too much for the amount of characters and time. This film in particular felt very... chaotic to me, there was so much happening and not enough explanation for a lot of the things that happened. At this point I would’ve hoped the loose ends introduced in the first 3 films would have been tied up since this is the later half of the series and there isn’t really a lot of time left to explain everything, have everything come to a peak, and then resolve all of the problems introduced to the series. We have two films left... that’s it... and we still don’t know a lot of things... a lot of things aren’t even being given the attention they deserve... Sora and Yamato’s relationship... the whereabouts of the 02 children... the general Digimon lore and how everything ties together...

Which brings me to how badly Sora’s character was handled in this film... it was supposed to be about her, she was supposed to get her time to shine but... it didn’t do her character any justice. Her relationship with Biyomon was sour and then she saves her and gains Biyomon’s approval... and then risks her life and is thrashed into an ice cliff twice and still somehow not only survives but also walks away with no injuries... and rides on top of Hououmon mid-battle only to basically be thrown off without Hououmon seemingly knowing... it was all just sloppy and Biyomon’s character was butchered completely, very little about her character was even consistent from the past films let alone the original series.

And since I am talking about Hououmon... why did they cram 3 Digimon evolving from rookie to mega in one battle...? :)It... was a lot... Biyomon to Birdramon to Garudamon to Hououmon... and then they did the same with Patamon and Tentomon... there was so much time being filled by evolutions and that’s not even counting Agumon and Gabumon’s evolutions earlier in the movie. I know that Patamon and Tentomon weren’t able to evolve to mega in the previous movie but... they should have found a more organic way to do it. For instance showing their evolutions to ultimate in the last film (another reason why I think they should’ve evolved to ultimate in the last film other than the reason that it just made no sense to only evolve to champion and then stop there... but also another reason is that I wanted to see Lillymon again... and I wanted to see Mimi and Jou evolve their digimon to mega... since that also would have made sense... especially since I’m guessing from this point onward Mimi and Jou aren’t going to really be getting much more spotlight) so that they could skip the evolutions this time and just have them go from ultimate to mega.

Seraphimon’s debut was lackluster... Takeru and Patamon usually have the most buildup and the most interesting climax when it comes to their arcs and evolutions but... this time they kind of just threw it in there mid-battle just to get it out of the way. Also at this point they all left Meiko and Meicoomon alone... in the digital world... where Meiko has never been before. Gennai found her and after a very very uncomfortable scene where he seems to be molesting her (oh yeah... earlier in the film he literally pinned Sora to the ground and licked her face... :) it was... bad... :) maybe they should’ve looked that part over and :) cut it out so that it didn’t make it to the final product maybe??? :) ) he uses his powers to choke her to activate Meicoomon’s anger so that she would evolve and become destructive. So basically the movie ends with Meiko lying lifelessly on the ground and Meicoomon’s evolution going on a rampage. :)

IT. WAS. A. MESS. At this point I’m not sure how the next films can compensate for the nonsense that happened in this one. There was just too much going on, too many plotholes, poor decisions being made, characters (mainly just Biyomon) changing their personalities, and at this point I feel like the writers bit off way more than they could chew. Maybe if the franchise only had like... 1 or 2 main characters a story like this could work... but with an ensemble cast of (now) 9 characters it is just way too much. There’s far too much going on and not much of anything being explained. I’m also not entirely sure if the films are supposed to be aimed at newcomers or longtime fans and I’m really not sure how they could really appeal to either because there’s a lot of stuff included that alludes to the original series but also just a lot of stuff left out for no reason. It feels like a complete mess right now and that cliffhanger (after like, 10 minutes of digimon evolutions) just... made the already weak film end on an extremely weak note. If fans had to wait like, a week or so in between films it would be one thing... still bad... but not as bad as waiting months and months for the next film only to be left with more questions than answers... 

... that all being said it was okay. I liked it, I mean I liked all of the films and I’m really looking forward to the next one... yay Meiko and Hikari!! ^o^

[bandrant-blog]

A Passion in Constant Need of Reigniting

You’re standing in a crowded room surrounded by your closest friends, who are surrounded by strangers.  All of you are facing the same direction, packed together as close as possible, overheated and sweaty.  You’re finally seeing that band you have always wanted to see. The one you have been waiting to see for years.  The one that just jumped out and connected with you the first time you heard it and before the first song was over, you knew you had found something special and dear to you.  You’re seeing your favorite performer sing all of your favorite songs, and you and the artist are in sync together. You’re being taken on an adventure of sound, lights, atmosphere, and you have completely forgotten about all your woes, your fears, your problems.  For a brief moment, you don’t even realize that you are in a room full of people you don't know. Even as someone who despises the general population of humanity, you are lost in your own world which is being painted by the performer who is giving you everything they have in this one moment.  For that brief time, nothing matters.  You feel alive. You feel happy. You feel connected and understood.  This is the feeling we all crave.  The feeling we all live for.  The feeling we are constantly on the chase for.  We all need an outlet.

I got into music at an early age. I made a connection to the music my parents listened to, the early 90s top 40 I was exposed to in pre school. I got a CD player and some headphones for my birthday when I was 9.  I bought my first album with my own money earned from doing chores around the house when I was 10. I went to my first concert when I was 13 and was fortunate enough to see my favorite band.  I picked up my first instrument shortly after and started jamming with friends in middle school and high school.  I played my first show with a full band when I was 15.  For whatever unexplainable reason, music has always been an escape to me and has become something of pure passion to the point where I can either get lost in an entirely new world, or become filled with disdain over whatever garbage is being projected at me.

All throughout my pre teens up til I turned 16 and learned how to drive to get a life, I would spend hours intently listening to my favorite albums.  Listening to each nuance of the music, losing myself to each track as the album took me on a journey.  There’s something truly addicting and refreshing when you hear something that for whatever reason, you just feel like you are understood.  Like whatever emotions you are feeling, someone else is feeling them too.  It even has the power to completely change your mood, taking you from a dark space to a much more positive state.   This is especially true when seeing a live performance.  The artist is up on a stage, pouring everything out into their work, and you can visibly see how much passion they have for what they have created and it is beautiful.  It is truly magnificent to see a performer get lost in their own world, and to get lost in yourself and take that trip with them to wherever they go.  

If there were no emotion to performances, people would just stay home and listen to the album.  Sadly, there are an abundance of meaningless performances out there.  Too many times have I gone to see a band play, only to be rewarded with this half assed, tired performance where the artist looks like they are dreading every second of their time in the spotlight.  Too many times have I seen a band play, and when the music is at it’s peak, the performer stands in discontent.  The feeling of anger and betrayal I feel when given such a lackluster performance is devastating.  After so many of these terrible excuses for shows, one can easily get fed up and turn their back on the music scene.  But every once in a while….you see a performer be so real and honest that it completely reignites your passion for the scene.

This blog is going to be dedicated to focusing on giving real and detailed reviews on performances of varying genre’s and regions, as well as giving honest critiques to the venues that host such performing acts.  I wish I could say the inspiration to starting this blog was because of a band that I saw that was so amazing and so great that I was inspired to do something different, but it was quite the opposite.  Some time ago, I had seen a band truly put on such a shit performance that it cleared the room.  Afterwards, one of the band members asked me “how’d we do?”  I did not have it in me at the time to tell them they sucked and their performance pissed me off, so instead I involuntarily shrugged.  It still got the point across, and he left with a sour attitude towards me as his girlfriend and parents gave him praise.  So many times we have experiences where we wish we would have done something different or said how we really felt, and this is one of those moments for me.  I wish I would have told him that his band sucks.  I wish I would have told him his performance was not only boring, but it actually pissed me off and made me feel offended.  How dare you come into a venue that has bent over backwards to let you play on their stage, you have people working to make you sound better than you deserve to, and you can’t even make an effort?  How dare you play on that stage and not only stand still looking bored, but fucking YAWN?!  How dare you stand on that stage at all!  

The following weeks, the lingering thought of the performance and how enraged i had become over it made me want to focus my efforts on something new for me.  There needs to be some sort of review system for this world of live music myself and so many others care about so much and want to see continued.  As it is now, there are no checks and balances.  It’s chaos.  There is free reign for anyone to do anything they want on stage, which is a blessing and a curse.  It allows the people who are truly passionate about what they do to share their art with the world, but there is also no one really filtering out the shit.  I am going to be fair in my reviews, and I will do my best to not turn into this grumpy old bozo who only complains and makes hate rants about the shitty bands.  I see plenty of solid and inspiring performances on a weekly basis, and those bands deserve recognition and praise for what they are creating.

Now where is my press pass?