#this character has no purpose to exist outside to punish gray | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shima-draws · 6 years ago

Photo

FINALLY I WAS ABLE TO FINISH THIS!! I’ve been working on it for over a week now lol

Anyway, meet Kaz and Ginni!! They’re the OCs I’ve been teasing lately and have been really excited about ^p^

They’re both from the Next Generation—so ~25 years after Shima’s main adventure ends. Ginni is the child of the famous Guildmasters Willow and Charon (previously Wendy and Charlie but I changed their names lol), and Kaz is the captain of the Novune Forces, a sort of re-imagined Dark Army (which I might rename to Maligo Army to make better-sounding lmao). Basically after the Dark Army’s fall, a new one rose in its place to take after its original purpose, and Kaz is part of this!

More details about them under the cut!!

Ginni Teire Age: 17 Hair color: Pink Eye color: Blue Element: Combat

Ginni takes after her mother in that she’s very stubborn, cheerful, sociable and also a combat user! She like to spar with her mother and father sometimes to test her skills ^^ She’s not afraid to fight for what she believes in and take action when nobody else will, making her a truly inspiring person capable of moving others c: Ginni’s nonbinary and uses she/her pronouns! She’s fine with either.

Ginni was actually ordered to be captured by the Novune Forces by Kaz, though he actually had no idea who she was, he was just following orders. After being under Kaz’s supervision for about a month and a half Ginni started to pick up signs that despite being a captain Kaz was not treated very well by his superiors, and would often come back from meetings or battles totally bruised and beaten. While all of the people under Kaz’s jurisdiction highly respected him and were honestly a bit terrified of him, Kaz was labeled as someone who could never be good enough or do good enough, and Ginni was tired of seeing him get hurt without him realizing the people who raised him were just exploiting and abusing him. Slowly during the month they spent together Kaz warmed up to Ginni, and started sharing things with her he never shared with anyone else!

Eventually Kaz started to realize that keeping Ginni captive wasn’t right, and that she was becoming weaker due to not seeing the sun or exercising or eating well during her stay with him, so he decides to set her free. And of course, Ginni convinces Kaz to abandon the Forces and come with her :’) Inspired by the idea that he can actually be free and see the world without any repercussions, Kaz decides to take the risk, so he and Ginni escape together and eventually return back to Ginni’s guild!

Some of Ginni’s weaknesses is how easy she gets riled up by things, and she sometimes doesn’t think things through, so she stumbles into trouble pretty often lol. She’s a type that gets offended quickly and takes action immediately. If she doesn’t get her way she tries to make it so, even if it means disobeying orders or hurting other people without meaning to. She’s very determined in that aspect ^^

She loves being outside and seeing the sun, and walking around town and interacting with her friends! She’s actually really close to Vedia and Kyran, and she become very close friends with Kaz too! She treasures him very much uwu

Kaz (Kazuto) Age: 18 Hair color: Orange Eye color: Gray (with rings of blue) Element: Lightning, Metal, Dragon (?)

Kaz, the incomplete experiment…haha! He was taken into the Novune Forces as a young child and has grown up there, so he doesn’t know anything of the outside world or how to act around others. He was simply raised to follow orders and do everything to perfection—maybe as a way to make up for the fact that the experiments done on him to enhance him for the Forces’ purposes never really worked out.

He started as a dual user of just lightning and metal, but the head of the Forces decided to try to make him into a tri user, so they had experiments performed to see if Kaz could awaken within himself a third elemental power :’0 Note that there’s only ONE other tri user in existence and that’s Astraeus, one of the Grandmasters! Unfortunately, the experiments failed and left Kaz with just remnants of a Dragon user’s power in the form of the marking under his eye and the streak in his hair. Eventually he is able to unlock the Dragon’s power because Ginni’s in danger, but his power is very unstable and defective since it’s not “pure” and was something he was injected with, not born with. So usually after using it he goes out of control and passes out immediately afterwards;; while it is extremely powerful it’s also very dangerous and damaging so he doesn’t use it unless he absolutely has to. When he’s in his “dragon mode” he gets little scales on his cheeks and his teeth become sharper (they’re already p sharp to begin with tho haha), and his eyes change color >:3c Kaz also uses two rapiers in battle that he charges with his elemental magic!! A dual user who uses dual weapons hehe~

Due to having parts of dragon elemental magic, his senses are enhanced, as most dragon elementals are as well! His nose is very keen and he can scent things other people normally can’t lol so it’s really helpful. He finds Ginni’s scent to be the most calming thing, because she smells like water lilies and the ocean back home :’)

Kaz didn’t originally have a name when he was part of the Novune Forces—everybody just referred to him as “Captain”. Obviously this made Ginni super upset since they’re all sorta treated like objects there, so she decided to give Kaz his name (Kazuto is his full name, but Ginni rarely ever calls him that, she prefers Kaz!)

Kaz is very very quiet most of the time, and his speech is very formal, so it’s rare to see him talking casually with anyone (besides Ginni, but even that takes a while). He doesn’t emote that often and prefers to keep his emotions bottled up, but Ginni slowly teaches him how to express himself better! He’s a pretty stern character, really no-nonsense, but he does loosen up after escaping. He doesn’t have a lot of anxiety over his superiors treatment of him because to him it’s normal, something that everyone in the Forces goes through, so he thinks if he makes mistakes he’s well deserving of punishment for them. He’s completely devoted to the Forces’ cause—until Ginni barrels in and ruins everything he ever worked for lmao

Kaz cares about Ginni a LOT. More than anybody else. He would put his life on the line for her in an instant, and doesn’t care about what happens to him as long as Ginni is safe. She’s pretty much his savior and the reason he’s able to actually live, so he feels like he owes her everything. He isn’t really comfortable around anyone else besides Ginni (and one of his subordinates, but their relationship is a bit rocky and strange). Kaz would rather die than do anything to upset Ginni or threaten their friendship;; Eventually he falls in love with her but it’s very confusing and frustrating because he doesn’t understand his feelings that well, having been taught to ignore his emotions for most of his life, so it’s a rough time lol. But once he realizes it he uses that knowledge to become stronger and protect Ginni with everything he’s got!! He’s really bad with romance tho lmao he gets flustered super easily whenever Ginni does something alluring and trips over himself trying to please her on occasion. He’s very dumb in the romance department but he tries :’D

Since Kaz grew up pretty much ignorant of everything else he can be really insensitive at times and offend others without realizing. He’s also fairly clueless about the world outside, so he finds fascination even in the smallest things! He’s also really really intelligent. Not when it comes to social interaction he fails fantastically at that, he’s really awkward around others lol but anything else goes! He’s very fond of reading and learning new things whenever he can, so being in the outside world is like a treat to him ^^

AND A BONUS I DOODLED:

SO YEAH THOSE ARE MY TWO NEW KIDS I LOVE THEM BOTH SO MUCH. I’m very weak for their height difference. Ginni’s the first non-binary character I’ve designed and also the first to get super pastel colors so designing her was REALLY fun!! And Kaz too, he’s my baby, I would die for him //shakes fists

FEEL FREE TO SEND IN ASKS ABOUT THEM, I’M DYING TO CHAT ABOUT THEM!!

225 notes · View notes

ooc-but-stylish · 7 years ago

Text

The FFXV Dossier

or,

More Proof that the Writers at Square Have No Clue WTF They Are Doing

Ravus Dossier: “Eldest son of House Fleuret, Blood of the Oracle, and older brother to Lady Lunafreya. His mother was burned alive in the fires that consumed Tenebrae twelve years ago.”

It wasn’t bad enough that Sylva was run through by Glauca’s sword, she also was still alive after that and then legit died in a fire. Then Luna proceeds to mention her mother not a single time throughout the game, with the motherly presence replaced by Gentiana, the Most Ineffectual Attendant and Friend Ever. They didn’t have to do that to Sylva, but they did.

“Blaming the “cowardly” King Regis for her death,”

He was indeed a coward. No quotation marks needed. Carry on.

"Unfortunately, the Rulers of Yore deemed him unworthy of their power, and singed his left arm as punishment for his hubris."

Less “singed” and more “he got his own arm burnt off, was in incredible pain, and needed a Magitek prosthetic replacement and also his sister saw him burn-- to death, for all she knew-- and didn’t say a damn thing nor make any effort to help him”, but sure.

“The empire’s assault on Altissia was an unequivocal failure that resulted in massive casualties. As High Commander, Ravus is forced to take responsibilty for this disastrous outcome and is succinctly scheduled for execution.”

Good of the dossier to clue us in on missable but important character information that would explain later parts of the story or why anyone is anywhere.

“Yet Lunafreya convinces her brother that his initial impression of the prince was wrong, and he has a change of heart.”

First of all, Lunafreya has no sense of self and her existence is defined by her continued positive relationship with a prince and a king she hasn’t seen in twelve goddamn years.

Second, this game runs on morality centered on whatever character the narrative wants to fellate. Luna didn’t tell Ravus that she chose to let Regis’s hand go. That gave Ravus the impression that Regis abandoned all of the Nox Fleurets to their fate instead of just two of them (although IMO, that he still abandoned them doesn’t get less bad).

Third, rather than having writing that examines the flaws of characters perceived or presented as Good People, instead what the narrative does is it twists characters into pretzels to sell that Regis was 100% pure and free of even the perception of wrongdoing, defended by another “sacrosanct” character (Luna) who is never wrong ever and is the best judge of character just because the game says so and look at how nice and good she is.

Anyone who disagreed with Regis “didn’t understand what he was going through”, even though his actions involved the manipulation and death of someone he was supposed to protect and care for (Noctis) and the sacrifice of many other people on top of that (Insomnian citizens, Luna, Ignis, Nyx, etc.), with all the blame of the events falling onto Noctis, who was deliberately raised not to know about a majority of the things he needed to do in the game nor the true extent of his burden because Regis wanted to “treat him like a normal boy” to make himself feel better about the fact that his son would die young anyway.

So, I don’t blame Ravus for thinking Noctis was an ignorant shit.

The problem is that at no point is Ravus disabused of the notion that Noctis is that way on purpose nor allowed to act in light of that knowledge. All Luna does is shill for Noct and tells Ravus that he’s wrong and he should change his mind about the guy because he will rise to the occasion in the future. She defends Noctis in a way that more or less admits that Ravus is right about his assessment but that it’s somehow irrelevant. In reality, Ravus is under no obligation to wait for that undetermined future time (10 years later... Ravus would wait a total of 22 years for Noctis to prove himself?) or expect that future behavior/redemption will make up for present misdeeds-- from Ravus’s POV Noctis shows no behavior that lends to the idea he knows what he’s doing or that he’s not just blowing off the fact that Luna is dying for him.

I still maintain that if Noctis knew that Luna was dying as the price of the covenants, he and Ravus would have seen eye to eye. However, every time someone makes it known that “Luna is dying”, the context is twisted to make it seem like she died because of Noctis and that she possessed the Ring of the Lucii (known to drain life and cause ill health), not because the gods robbed her of her life as part of waking them up-- a reality which makes Noctis a few steps removed from being the cause of Luna’s death. But I digress.

At the point Ravus “redeems himself” of his negative opinion and shows it, he has no other choice: Luna is already falling apart and near-death so he has to be a LuNoct shipper all of a sudden, and later on Noctis is the last remaining option to save the world that Ravus wanted his sister to live in and give people the future he wanted her to enjoy. Then it turns out that wasn’t even Noctis he was talking to, so he got no closure.

The problem is also that Ravus’s issue with Noctis and Regis is one that the narrative shows he’s not allowed to have. An opinion that Regis is a coward and Noctis is ignorant is some kind of “hallmark of villainy” for this game, because how dare people disagree with the protagonists and have a negative opinion on them! So Ravus needed to be “redeemed” and “see the light” about how great Noctis and Regis are when

he shouldn’t have had to

being a stan for the protag is not the same as being a good character

it’s not even the requirement of being a hero, or even a good person

and wow, look at all the good it did him considering he still fucking died. His name is Ravus and they didn’t let him have a gray view of the protagonists. He died and his body was defiled.

Gentiana Dossier: "Gentiana prefers not to interfere with the everyday occurrences of the mortal world"

Including, of course, a twelve year old Luna being beaten by Caligo. And Luna being murdered by Ardyn the day after Gentiana appeared in Altissia. And Sylva being murdered by Glauca (or rather, BURNED ALIVE in the fire near Fenestala Manor). Those everyday occurrences. Ok.

Crepera/The Rogue Dossier: "One of the guardians of the Old Wall, consumed by the Starscourge and forced to submit to Ardyn’s will.”

Ardyn is such a Sue he can infect spirits now? Ok.

I mean, the Old Wall fell apart when Nyx summoned them to fight Diamond Weapon and Drautos, and calling upon them is a power granted by those who have the Ring of the Lucii, but Ardyn still brought some Kings of Lucis back to possess them with powers antithetical to the ones that could control and awaken them in the first place. This is after he summoned a Wall to cover the Citadel that’s identical to the one powered by the Crystal and the Ring of the Lucii when the Crystal already rejected him and he should have no right to its abilities as well as not having the Ring in his possession. Splendid.

"Having lost her father and older brother to the daemons"

Oh, so the Kings of Lucis could have more than one child! But Noctis doesn't have a sibling because......?

“At the time, however, the thought of a woman ruling the kingdom was preposterous to some. Thus the Rogue reigned from the shadows, helping Lucis to overcome a difficult era without once revealing her face to the masses.”

Okay, so the sole surviving daughter of the Lucian monarchy is ruling the place but the problem people have with it is her sex? Ok. I mean this is an isolationist country that's already hated by the people outside of it for its practices and general neglect of the neighboring lands but having a woman at the helm is the real problem. My god. But it is good to know that, in a world with massive genocidal water snakes, giants holding up meteors, clones, robots, malarial space herpes, frosty ice giantesses being maids to Discount Female Jesus Figures, all of which exist on a planet smaller than fucking Rhode Island, sexism still remains intact. So good to know.

Like it wasn't known that the previous King had a son and a daughter? So no shit if the father and son die that the daughter would be left, unless a) a total foreigner would rule the country, for the sake of "muh male dominance" which is shit, b) someone not descended from the Lucian line would rule the country, for the above reason, which is still shit c) the daughter disguised herself as a man and for maximum roleplay got herself a wife too, because people can’t accept a woman being in charge for some reason, but anyway it still makes no sense because the solution after all was that she still does her job, but she does it behind the scenes because she morphed from King of Lucis to Harry Potter whenever the Dursleys have a guest in their house.

Fuck, I mean, doesn’t the Rogue wield a big honkin’ shuriken? I thought this "ruling from the shadows" thing was more like her conducting assassinations by moonlight and winning the hearts of her subjects by daylight like a murderous Sailor Moon! The flavor text says she “spurned the public eye”, so you know what'd also be acceptable? Her not being in the spotlight because that’s just part of her personality, but I hear Square has no idea how giving women personalities is supposed to work. A "King of Lucis" that avoids paparazzi like the fucking plague would be A++ but nah, it’s because this fantasy world still needs sexism in it, and this King of Lucis who’s gotten her position by “birthright” and “natural causes” still gives a fuck about social mores. Utter horseshit.

#ffxv critical #ravus nox fleuret #crepera the rogue #gentiana #regis critical #regis negative #gentiana negative #lunafreya critical #long post

84 notes · View notes

queensofthekastle · 7 years ago

Note

Prompts!! Before the release of the punisher: your take on Kandahar? :D

Ok but,

Holy shit.

I wanted to write this so badly but ran out of time, so, while it’s not exactly the prompt. here’s a a little drabble inspired by it.

(Please note that I have never been to Afghanistan and am basing descriptions off of google searches.

Also, please note that any potentially negative views expressed on the area are solely those of the character. While I have tried to avoid letting Frank’s bias as a young soldier far from home, fed plenty of propaganda, color the story at large, reader please beware that such a bias does exist in his mind and that it may be triggering to some readers in the few places it appears. I have done my best to keep all players in the story humanized, and to have that humanity acknowledged in the text, but asides and biases expressed in Frank’s personal worldview remain. I realize that this setting is a delicate one and if anyone has any concerns with the piece, please let me know and I will rectify it to the best of my ability and as soon as possible. -Stellar)

کور :/kor/

The target? Local tyrant, opium lord type. Funds all sorts of bullshit, gets all kinds of people killed.Al Qaeda, Taliban, something new, it’s pretty far above Castle’s pay grade at thispoint, but the shitstain is bad news, and that’s the opposite of what you wantto be: He’s gonna end up dead or at a black site, or both. No one here ispretending otherwise. No one here cares to. The only care left is being theones who come out alive, the one who do the job.

Hayes stepped on an old soviet mine three days ago.

Blown half to bits, he got a free burial out of the ensuingrock slide--dumb fucking place for a mine. Intentional, definitely, meansthey’re close, but stupid: the thing is, getting in and out is now as hard for theenemy as it is for friends, and its plenty bad for friendlies. Any extractionthey could call in from here on out will be coming in hot enough to justify notcoming in at all. They all know this. The enemy probably knows it. Three menare dead already, and the only question now is who’s locked into this valleywith who.

***

“Frank. Frank?”She only has to asktwice that he knows about.

“Yeah?”

“You looked a littlelost there, is everything ok?”

“Fine, yeah.”

Maria stands in thekitchen, the door to the laundry closet open behind her. In the wash, somethingwith a buckle is banging away.

***

Afghanistan has no right to be as pretty as it is. The aridmountains have more color to them than you’d think, grays and golds as well asreds, brown, and oranges. Get up high enough, go in deep enough, and there’swater and snow like light flares on the landscape. They walk paths carved bygeology and history alike, waiting to be ambushed, or be the ambush, in the folds ofthis cold valley. And it is fucking cold: sharper than the air on the slopethat time he and Maria went skiing in the Cascades, and so much dryer.

The stone echoes differently, too, dust soft but unforgiving on sound and footalike. The dull clatter of a loose stone descending the mountainside has no clear direction. But it carries. In an instant every man is low to the ground, looking for asource of the noise in every possible direction. Except Frank. He scramblesforward by a few long steps, scouring the hill above him with his eyes beforegoing to his knees with a stone on front of him like a rifle stand, allowing himself to be consumed within the scope.

One shot, one kill.

That’s the scout sniper motto, the mantra. It’s the truththe people around him live and die by: he is the first line of defense andoffense alike, since one begets the other, clean kills at long rage theinsurance that keeps everyone else moving forward. Every target he kills, is another soldier who lives.

If notmore than one.

His pulse quickens in his ears.

***

She’s looking askanceat the washer, at him, at it.

“I’m fine, Maria. Justzoned out.”

The house is quietother than the washer. The kids’ voices filter in from outside. Lisa—sometimes she’s more adad than he is. Frankie, he’s a baby still, butLisa sets him up in a carrier on the lawn with her and puts on plays with dollsand toy soldiers and entertains him for hours. She gets people, babies too. Gets it from her mom.

“. . . Ok,” Mariaallows, “I just worry, you’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

He shakes his head.

“Longer rotation,longer adjustment, I guess. I’m fine.”

She nods. Clank,clank, the washer carries on. And then she blurts it out:

“Are you going back?”

***

Movement ahead. Breathe into it. Stillness.

“FOUR O CLOCK.”

Gunfire. Shouting. The hill opposite explodes.

Frank staysin the scope, watching it happen. Lining up the figures escaping the rockfall withthe crosshairs. Outside the scope,this shit is complicated. These people have families. Some of them areterrorists in the truest sense of the word, and some are fighters, grunts. Some of them have options, some knowbetter, some don’t. Some don’t care. Some made a choice, same as him. But that’sthe world, and this is the scope. He’s in the scope.

He’s got no need to leave.

***

“That’s not really upto me. I come when they call. You know how it is.”

“No. I don’t. Frank,you can stop. We’re getting by just fine, I know it’s a paycut, but—”

She’s firm, she’spleading. Maybe she sees something he doesn’t. Telling himself that keeps backthe edge of anger cutting up his gut.

“It’s not about themoney, y—I’ve got a duty, Maria.” He’s got a purpose.

“Not one you have todo forever. Lisa has lived half her life without you, Frank. What about thatduty?”

He goes cold.

***

Maria’s at home. That’ll get him through this.That’s why he’ll crawl back out of the scope eventually. Not today. Not this tour. But she and those kids are his way out.

Someday he’ll go home. Maybe one more tour. One.

And then he’ll go home.

#queens fic #stellarswords

17 notes · View notes

unfolded73 · 8 years ago

Text

This Graceful Path (10/19)

Summary: Emma has just moved in with Mary Margaret and started working as a deputy in the Storybrooke sheriff’s department when she meets Killian Jones, the town’s introverted harbormaster. When a prominent Storybrooke resident is found murdered, Emma tries to juggle solving the case with new friendships, parenthood, and romance. A Season 1 Cursed!Killian AU.

Rating: Explicit per CSBB guidelines (violence, sex); more of an M on unfolded73’s scale. The sex, when we get there, is not extremely graphic in nature. Same with the violence.

Content Warning: This fic contains two major character deaths, one canon and one not. (You’re already past them.) Content warning for sexual content in this chapter. As with the show itself, there are consent issues involved with cursed people having sexual relations, so be warned.

Total word count: ~ 75,000

Acknowledgements: Thank you to @j-philly-b for betaing this monstrosity. Thank you to @caprelloidea for all of the read-throughs and cheerleading; not sure I could have written it without your excitement early on. Thank you to @teruel-a-witch for the original prompt on tumblr which sparked this fic. Thank you to @pompeiiablaze for the wonderful art which accompanies Chapter 3 and 9 and one later chapter. Thanks to the CSBB mods ( @sambethe in particular, who had to look at my check-ins) for your support and for enduring my neuroses.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 – AO3 Link

Chapter 10

“N… nothing here, Madam M… mayor,” the man said fearfully, and Regina imagined ripping his heart out and crushing it just to stop his annoying stutter. She rolled her eyes.

“So find another clear spot and dig again,” she said through clenched teeth, her voice loud in the muffled stillness of the snowy forest. Was this one Bashful? Or Dopey? She didn’t recall and frankly, didn’t care. She didn’t bother to learn their cursed names, and she certainly wasn’t going to try to remember their names from the Enchanted Forest.

Several of the dwarves wielded shovels, while another was operating a metal detector, moving it over the freshly fallen snow that blanketed the forest floor. Tree branches heavy with snow hung low around them, the lower ones dropping their burden on the ground in huge clumps as they were disturbed by the searchers.

Regina wasn’t sure that the Dark One dagger would even set off a metal detector — was what it was made of technically metal, or was it some enchanted element that had no equivalent in this realm? — so she was having the dwarves dig in an ever-widening circle away from the site of the murder. She stamped her booted feet against the cold. Probably best to go back to her warm office and wait for news.

“So, of course, when I get a call from a citizen saying there were strange men digging in the forest, I should have guessed that you were involved,” a sardonic voice said from behind her. Regina swung around to see Emma coming toward her, gray beanie shoved down tight over her head and shiny sheriff’s badge at her hip. Regina sneered.

“Well, someone has to look for the murder weapon since your office is doing such a miserable job of searching for it,” Regina sneered. “You and that charming deputy of yours are worse than useless.”

“You’re out here disturbing a crime scene,” Emma said, her breath visible in the frosty air.

“It’s been two and a half months,” Regina responded. “If you haven’t finished investigating the crime scene, then you’re even more incompetent than I thought.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “So you’re going to dig up the whole forest?”

“If I have to. This is town property, Ms. Swan, and I have every right to do exactly what I’m doing.”

“Why?”

“Anything to get justice for poor Mr. Gold.”

“Why do I doubt that you give a shit about Mr. Gold?” Emma asked, her arms folding across her chest.

“I ‘give a shit’ that there’s still a murderer on the loose. A murderer that you seem to be dating if the town rumor mill is accurate.”

“Killian’s not the killer.”

Regina narrowed her eyes, surprised that Emma didn’t offer even a token denial of the relationship. “And how do you know that?”

“The killer stole Tom Clark’s car and followed Mr. Gold out here, and Killian doesn’t drive,” she said, ticking off points on her gloved fingers. “The killer would have gotten blood on his clothes, and Killian was seen by his next-door neighbor not long after the murder, looking normal. Also, I’ve found no fingerprints in the car or in Gold’s cabin that match his.”

“And do they match anyone else?” Regina asked.

Emma looked chastened at that question. “I’m still trying to work that out. So far I haven’t found anything that didn’t match Mr. Gold himself in the cabin, or Mr. Clark and his friends in the car. But we’re still investigating it.”

“So he could have had a glove on.” Regina looked back at the men digging in the forest. “We’re going to find that dagger, Ms. Swan, and when we do, you’ll have to accept the fact that your new boyfriend is a murderer.” And the Dark One, she thought to herself.

“Why are you so insistent that Killian did this? I can tell when someone’s lying, and he’s telling the truth.”

Regina pulled herself up, standing ramrod straight and staring down her nemesis. “I know the history of the people in this town that you cannot begin to understand. If you think he’s telling the truth, then you’re blinded by his pretty face.”

“Whatever.” Emma turned to head back the way she’d come. “Have fun out here in the cold.”

Regina watched Emma go until she’d disappeared from view, seething internally. She stomped her feet, her toes numb inside her boots. She swung around, furious. “Keep working!” she shouted. “I won’t abide any laziness. And call me as soon as you find anything!”

Back in her car, Regina turned on the heat full-blast and then noticed that she’d left her Blackberry sitting on the passenger seat. She had a missed call from Kathryn Nolan, David’s wife.

If what Regina suspected was correct, then despite her best efforts at intervention, that damned Snow White and her peasant husband had found their way back into each other’s arms. That kind of happiness was exactly what the curse was supposed to prevent. She pressed a button to call Kathryn back.

“Hello, Kathryn, you called?”

“Hi, Regina. Thanks for calling me back.”

“You sound sad; is everything all right?”

“No. I just had a long conversation with David. Our marriage is over.”

“I was headed back to my office. Can you meet me there? We can talk.”

Regina’s hands clutched the steering wheel as she drove back into town. She would stop this. She couldn’t allow Snow White to be happy, that would defeat the whole purpose, the whole reason for Storybrooke’s existence.

Pulling into her accustomed parking space at town hall and leaving the car, she marched into the building, thinking about what her play should be. If Snow White and Prince Charming were together, she would have to do something to tear them apart. Was there a way to frame one of them for Mr. Gold’s murder? Doubtful, not with David’s familiarity with the case as Emma’s deputy. But if someone else died, or went missing, and if sweet little Mary Margaret was the prime suspect…

Regina sighed; she really could have used a toadying minion like Sidney Glass to help her deal with this problem, but he’d proven himself so useless when it came to unseating Emma Swan as sheriff that he’d required punishment. She supposed she’d have to do everything herself. As usual. No one could be counted on, in this world or any other.

Kathryn was already sitting on a bench outside Regina’s office. Regina pulled her into a hug, every inch the supportive friend. “Come in, Kathryn, and tell me everything.”

They sat down together on the pristinely white sofa. Regina handed Kathryn a box of tissues, but she seemed to have herself under control. “David confessed to me that he’s been cheating on me with Mary Margaret.”

Regina didn’t have to fake her anger. “That complete and utter asshole.”

Kathryn shrugged. “At least he was honest. He’s in love with her, not with me.” She sighed. “To be fair, I don’t know if I’m in love with him either.”

“That’s awfully generous of you. But you are his wife and the two of you took vows. That can’t be undervalued.”

“I know, but it’s never felt right.” Kathryn stood up and began to pace, her heels loud against the marble floor. Regina’s mind whirred as she focused on the upside down image of Kathryn in the reflective shine of the black and white marble under their feet. “It’s never felt real<, me and David. Even before the coma. I don’t think we were meant to be.”

Regina stood as well, walking over toward one of her decorative end tables. She caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror, a hundred tiny, fractured versions of herself in each of the beveled edges. “So what are you going to do?”

“I considered running away to Boston; I was thinking about applying to law school and getting a fresh start. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that Storybrooke is my home. I don’t have to leave it if I don’t want to.” As she talked, she turned to look out the window. Regina picked up a heavy vase from the end table and stole up behind her. It didn’t matter what Kathryn said. If she turned up dead, it wouldn’t be hard to focus the blame on the woman her husband was having an affair with. “Yes, it will be hard to see David and Mary Margaret together, but I’m strong. I can deal with it.”

Regina raised the vase.

There was a loud knock on her office door.

Just managing to get the vase set down before Kathryn turned from the window, Regina pasted on a forced smile. “What is it?” she called, her voice sharp.

The door opened to reveal Killian Jones.

“I was wondering if we could talk, Madam Mayor,” he said.

“I’m in a meeting,” Regina almost snarled.

“It’s okay, I need to run some errands.” Kathryn reached out and squeezed Regina’s hand, her face kind. “Thanks for being a good friend, Regina.” Regina watched as her ticket to making Mary Margaret miserable walked out the door.

“This was bad timing, Cap— Mr. Jones.”

“So was the — writer, was it? — that you sent sniffing around the docks this morning.”

Regina glared at him. “When the sheriff has done nothing to solve this horrible crime, I’ll take any help I can get. Even bohemian writers.” She knew who August was; he wasn’t writing any book, at least not one he planned to publish. As the only other person in town who knew the origins of Storybrooke, she either needed to make an ally of him or eliminate him. For now, she was electing to try the former.

“Emma has worked night and day—”

“Yes, well, you aren’t exactly unbiased when it comes to Miss Swan, are you? Nor she with you. Which is a bigger problem.”

“Why are you so convinced that I killed that man?” Killian asked, his voice rising with a little bit of desperation. “I swear on all that’s holy that I didn’t.”

“You and anything holy are about as far apart as two things can get,” Regina muttered. She knew Hook probably believed what he was saying, thanks to the curse, or thanks to however the Dark One was manifesting itself in his cursed brain. But the fact remained that he was the Dark One, she was almost certain of it, and she needed to get possession that dagger before the curse was broken, or who knows what would happen when he realized who and what he was.

“I just thought the guy seemed dangerous,” Killian said. “Unconcerned with following the law. A man like that might do anything in pursuit of a story.”

“And what are you suggesting I do with him? If he’s so dangerous, perhaps you should tell your girlfriend, the sheriff?”

“How about start by telling him I’m no murderer!” Killian shouted.

“Or what?” When he didn’t respond, Regina walked over to her desk and picked up some papers, stacking them in what she hoped was a dismissal. “I’ll be sure to keep your input in mind. Was there anything else?”

~*~

“I’m headed out,” Emma said to Mary Margaret as she descended the stairs from her bedroom. She’d rushed home from the station to freshen up. Lately, she'd been so busy, she’d hardly spoken to her roommate.

Mary Margaret looked up from the stove where she was stirring a sauce. “Where’s Killian taking you?”

“He’s doing what you’re doing for David; cooking dinner.”

“Ooh, romantic.” Mary Margaret smirked at her. “Do you think you’ll be back tonight?”

Emma flushed, biting her lip. “Let’s just say I’m prepared for the possibility that I won’t be. I promise I’ll call if not and give you ample warning.” Emma gathered up her purse and keys. “Listen, David told me about him and Kathryn; I’m really so happy for you two.”

Mary Margaret’s face broke out into a full grin. “Me too. I know it’s still going to be difficult, and he has to get through the divorce, but Kathryn really couldn’t have been more understanding.”

“I guess they both knew they weren’t right for each other.”

“You know, David gives a lot of credit to both you and Killian for setting him straight on telling Kathryn the truth.”

Emma was surprised to hear that. “I didn’t realize he and Killian talked about personal stuff.”

“Yeah, they’re really getting to be good friends. Oh, we could double date!”

Wrinkling her nose, Emma opened the door. “Yeah, because we’re teenagers in the 1950s. I’ll see you later, Mary Margaret.”

She drove the short distance to Killian’s apartment, her heart in her throat. The last time they’d been together, she was fairly certain that if Mary Margaret hadn’t come home, she and Killian would have ended up in bed together. Now they were going to be alone in his apartment with the whole night ahead of them. It didn’t matter how many people she’d slept with in her life; the idea that tonight might be the night with Killian was making her more nervous than she’d felt about a guy in a long time.

When he opened the door for her promptly after she knocked, she could see her own feelings reflected in his hopeful expression.

“Hey, come on in.” He helped her off with her coat, hanging it in a small closet by the front door. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

If she expected to see chaos in his kitchen, she was disappointed. The oven was on, something obviously cooking inside, and a salad sat on the counter. All the dishes involved in preparing the meal had been washed and put away. The table was set with two place settings, and there was even a single rose in a beer bottle. She smiled.

“I know my apartment isn’t much, but…”

“It’s fine.”

They stared at each other awkwardly. Killian scratched behind his ear, glancing over at the oven timer, which still had four minutes left on it.

“Can I get you a beer?” Killian asked.

“Yeah, sure.” The process of getting beer out of the fridge and opening them took about a minute, and then they were back to uncomfortable silence.

“Sorry, I probably should have prepared some topics of conversation. I’ve suddenly forgotten how to use language,” he said, flushing to the tips of his ears.

“It’s the sex thing,” Emma said.

She watched him swallow, his hand coming up to scratch behind his ear again. “I’m sorry?”

She set her beer down on the kitchen counter and wiped her palms off on her jeans. “You know, the sex thing. We’re both wondering if we’re gonna have sex tonight. It’s making things awkward and weird.”

Killian’s eyes blinked a few times. “Right. So are we? Going to have sex?” He bit his lip, which she thought looked like a fantastic idea. Sinking her teeth into his bottom lip was definitely a thing she wanted to experience first-hand.

Shrugging one shoulder, she smiled. “It’s not just up to me.” She took a couple of steps toward him. “But I’d like to cast my vote for yes.”

Killian hummed, his smile bringing out the dimples in his cheeks. “Well, it’s unanimous then. That’s lucky.”

They sort of swayed into each other, drawn in by an invisible pull between them. “Lucky,” Emma agreed, letting her body come to rest against his, touching legs and chests and fuck, he smelled really good.

When they kissed, it wasn’t tentative or slow; she opened her mouth and so did he and their tongues were touching, wet and slick and perfect. Emma reached up and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close so that her breasts crushed against the firm plane of his chest.

The oven timer sounded and Killian ignored it, his mouth busy against the curve where her neck met her shoulder.

“Oven,” she rasped out.

“Don’t care.”

Emma pried him away, enjoying his lazy, lust-filled expression. “Your dinner’s going to burn, and we should probably eat so that we have enough strength for the other thing.”

Killian spun around, twisting knobs to stop the beeping timer and to turn off the oven itself. Taking a casserole out, he set it down to cool and turned to her. “Or we could do the other thing now, and have dinner after.” His hopeful smile made her laugh, so she kissed him again.

“Okay,” she mumbled against his lips.

“Okay?”

She reached around and squeezed his ass, pulling him up against her. “Okay.”

What followed was a clumsy, stumbling walk to the bedroom as they continued kissing and Emma went to work on his shirt buttons. She paused in the doorway of his bedroom to take her boots off, tossing them in the general direction of the front door, before joining him by the bed, neatly made like the first time she’d been in here, when she’d searched his apartment.

“Undressing another person is awkward, don’t you think?” she said as she untucked his shirt from his jeans so she could finish unbuttoning it.

Killian chuckled, pulling her close, his hand roaming down her back and over the curve of her ass. “Would that I had some kind of magic to whisk our clothes away.”

Emma took a step back, pulling her sweater over her head, and then they were both rapidly yanking their jeans off, sitting down next to each other to finish the job. Noticing that he’d removed his underwear at the same time, Emma reached behind her back to unfasten her bra, then pulled her own underwear off, and wow, she did not expect to be getting naked this early in the proceedings, but here she was, completely bare in Killian’s lamp-lit bedroom.

He kissed her while she reached back and fumbled with the bedding, and then he was pressing her back onto the pillows and Emma let herself be pressed, enjoying the fall and the weight of his body over her. His shirt was open but still on, and she wondered if he was uncomfortable about his prosthesis and what lay under it. She hoped he’d grow more confident with time, and it struck her like a thunderclap that she wasn’t just about to have sex with someone. She was assuming this tumble into bed would be the first of many. She was thinking like this wasn’t a one-time thing. She blinked her eyes, amazed.

“You all right, love?”

Emma reached up and caressed his face, enjoying scraping her nails through the stubble on his cheek. “I should be asking you that. You sure your ribs are up for this?”

He smiled softly. “I assure you, I’m tip top.”

Running her hand down his back and up under his shirt, she pulled him down, opening her thighs and cradling his in between, gasping at the intimate press of his cock between her legs. Then they were both lost, mouths meeting and hips rolling against one another, all breathless moans and grinding, panting desire. She was already so wet, could feel it in the slick drag of him against her, knew she should ask him to get a condom or run and fetch one from her purse, because she was so ready for this, ready for him to push inside her and fuck her and make her come.

He slowed things down though, moving over to one side and running his hand over her chest, cupping her breast and brushing his thumb over the nipple. Emma gasped, grasping the sides of his face and kissing him again, arching against his hand. He slid it down, brushing his calloused palm over her abdomen, and she rolled her hips, hoping he would take the hint and touch her where she was desperate to be touched.

When his fingers finally slipped between her legs, Emma bit down on his bottom lip, her hand tightening in his hair. She felt like a coiled spring; like her body had been waiting for this since the moment they met, since the moment she turned in the bright sunlight and saw him there on the docks. They groaned together as he slid a finger inside her. He alternated between gentle thrusts in and out, and more focused touches to her clit, winding her tighter and tighter as she lifted her hips and panted into his mouth.

“Condom?” she murmured.

“Yeah.” He rolled over, pulling open his bedside table drawer and taking out a foil packet. Emma took advantage of the fact that he was on his back, sitting up and moving astride him, taking the condom from his hand. She’d always had an easier time coming when she was on top, and she grinned at him as she tore the package open with her teeth. He met her gaze with one of lust-filled amazement, like he couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

Emma rolled the condom on, stroking him and lining her body up and sinking down and oh. There. He filled her, the delicious stretch of it making her whimper as she leaned forward and started a slow pace, her hands clutching the bed on either side of his pillow.

It took a few thrusts for them to find a rhythm together, his hips not quite rising in sync with hers at first, but they adjusted to each other and she couldn’t help moaning at how good it felt. “Fuck, Swan, yes,” he chanted with every rise and fall, every slick meeting of their bodies. She could feel it building, grinding down onto his pelvic bone as hard as she could, chasing her pleasure and feeling the sensation of an orgasm ahead, nothing stopping her, nothing in the way between her and that best of all possible feelings. She dimly heard Killian cry out just before her own orgasm hit, everything clenching and pulsing with perfect bliss.

Emma took a few seconds to rest against his chest before carefully dismounting, making sure he had a grip on the condom so they didn’t make a mess of things. Killian got up to clean himself up while she collapsed onto her back, her chest still heaving.

“Ready for dinner?” he asked when he returned to the bedroom, a cheeky smile on his face.

She shook her head back and forth on the pillow, taking a moment to enjoy the sight of his body. “That would require me to be capable of standing up.”

HIs resulting expression was full of pride. “I could stand here and throw food at you if you prefer.”

Emma heaved herself up, fishing around on the floor for her underwear. “I guess I have worked up an appetite.” Killian pulled his jeans back on, but Emma decided to only bother with the underwear and her sweater, leaving her own jeans and her bra on the floor.

Having sex first was the best idea he’d ever had; all the awkwardness from earlier had drained away, and as she ate almost-warm-enough forkfuls of Killian’s hamburger casserole, she thought she had never laughed so much over a meal.

They lingered at the table over cups of coffee and shared a piece of store-bought cheesecake, Killian’s blue eyes sparkling in the light of the dim bulb over his cheap, laminate table.

“What?” he said, and it made her realize that she was just sitting there, staring at him, her foot hooked over the rung of her chair, her bare legs slightly chilled.

“Nothing, I’m…” She took a second to interrogate the way she was feeling, expecting to find apprehension that she’d moved too far, too fast, gotten too close. But all she found was joy. “I’m just happy.”

He reached across the table and took her hand, his expression open and warm. “Me too.”

Later, they found their way into bed again, her sweater still on but panties flung enthusiastically across the room, and she looked down her body at the erotic sight of his dark hair between her thighs. She’d told him he could take off his shirt and prosthesis if he wanted to, and in the dark bedroom, he’d agreed, vulnerable and trusting.

Now he worked her over with his tongue and fingers, his focus only on her pleasure, and she gave herself over to it, rocking against his face and gripping his hair and muttering don’t stop, don’t stop until she came with a strangled cry. She was vaguely aware of him still between her legs, watching her as she shuddered with the aftershocks. As soon as she could make her limbs cooperate, she pulled her sweater off, collapsing naked and sweaty back onto the sheets.

Emma made a half-hearted motion toward his drawer with the condoms before Killian crawled over her to retrieve one himself. She sat up enough to kiss him as he fumbled with the wrapper.

“This okay?” he asked against her mouth.

“Uh huh.”

There were more sloppy kisses as he lined himself up, and then he buried himself to the hilt inside her. She wrapped her legs around him, telling him to let go, telling him to fuck her hard and he did, a glorious snarl on his face and the cords of his neck standing out. She gripped his biceps, loving the way his muscles felt under her hands. He didn’t last long, a strangled moan issuing from his throat as his orgasm hit. She combed her fingers through his hair as he came down, feeling exhausted and satisfied and wonderful.

He pulled her into his arms as soon as he returned from cleaning up, his nose brushing against hers in a not-quite-kiss. They settled against each other under the sheets, legs entangled. There was a gentle intimacy between them that was filling her heart, almost bringing tears to her eyes with how perfect it felt. Holding each other close, they both drifted off to sleep.

~*~

Emma woke up to the sound of his voice, but it was all wrong. Before she was even awake, the hairs on her arms were raised with gooseflesh.

“I’ll see you die,” he muttered between clenched teeth. Emma sat up in bed and looked over, seeing Killian still asleep in the light from the moon, now shining through the window and illuminating the bedroom with pale white light. He tossed and turned, lost in a nightmare.

“Dreamed of this day for so long,” he said, followed by more muttering she couldn’t understand. He flung his arm out, and it came to rest across her lap. Emma looked down at his tattoo, clearly visible in the moonlight. At the heart, and the name, and the dagger with the curved blade.

Curved blade.

“Your life is mine, Crocodile,” he said clearly.

Crocodile. He’d said that before, in the interrogation room at the sheriff’s station.

Emma carefully extracted herself from underneath his arm. Her mind a haze of panicky, swirling thoughts, she gathered her clothes from around the room, pulled them on, and fled into the night.

Chapter 11

#csbb #cs ff #captain swan ff #cs smut #this graceful path fic #my fic

64 notes · View notes

on-the-wings-of-hope-prose-en · 8 years ago

Text

Observer

It was surprisingly quiet today in the Hall of Destinies.

However, “today” would be insufficiently exact term for the description of time’s movement in its common for physical worlds concept and form. Time could pass totally nonlinearly here – to either accelerate or slow down; to twist in a spiral, forming similar in character events in diverse lower worlds at different intervals of their evolutionary model’s realization; in rare cases it could even cease its perpetual motion completely in several – and, first of all, strictly determined lower worlds, – if one of the Observers needed to make corrections to the highest evolutionary model of such a world. It only couldn’t be turned back – and this is the only and most serious restriction, which has been voluntarily assumed by each Observer, who was taking up a post, for almost an uncountable number of galactic cycles by the standards of lower physical worlds.

It was quiet in the Hall of Destinies.

Not in the sense that is assumed by the imperfect mind of representatives of unlimited number of civilizations, endlessly evolving in the physical worlds, by meaning the lack of difficulties or troubles during their own short-term corporal life, – but in a totally different one, appropriate for those whose tasks included observation and control of fates of infinite number of secondary worlds and all inhabiting them living beings.

This hall was extraordinarily large and existed in several dimensions simultaneously. Its multiple projections, much like reflections in mirrors, each one by itself could give only a very superficial idea of its true beauty and form. In a three-dimensional space, which is common for a number of underdeveloped civilizations of secondary worlds, it reminded a hall of some official government institution with huge going upwards colonnades, from almost unreachable heights of which a light of golden and silver colors were flowing, smoothly, precisely like a feather, touching walls and a floor, forming on its way images that by desires and will of Observers were reflecting investigated by them civilizations and events, which were taking place – or have already occurred, or could happen with certain probabilities – in lower, or physical, worlds. Forms of these light reflections could vary greatly – sailing ships that were navigating through oceans and symbolizing different nations in some of the secondary worlds and their interactions with each other; birds, soaring in the sky, reflecting concepts and ideas which reigned over minds and souls of people; promptly twisting and raging whirlwinds and tornadoes, representing confusions and misfortunes of both individual inhabitants of observed worlds and their groups in general; fogs of claret and gray colors that were enveloping separate fragments of this hall’s floor and were connected with origin and formation of new star systems and civilizations; fountains, that were sparkling on light with sprayed water drops, from time to time giving a birth to wondrous rainbows, not without a reason serving as harbingers of happy events…

Forms and images, created by this inflowing light of the highest spheres, were so various and, let us agree on that, unique, that any representative of even the most advanced of civilizations of the lower worlds, if he had been given a great joy of observing the work of Observers from outside, in literal sense would hold his spirit, given to him by the Maker, being bonded by invisible force with a floor’s section for a period of observation.

The floor of the Hall of Destinies – or, in some cases, its separate fragments, – could voluntarily, or, following the will of various workers, change their drawing pattern and transparency, so that someone standing on any cell of this floor could all of a sudden – or foreknowing in advance – find out in the next moment that he, for example, is standing precisely on a galactic map, and planets from one of infinite set of star systems of the physical world keep floating beneath him in their mutually attractive dance. One could imagine the surprise of a casual observer, standing on one of these fragments! But Observers could be observed only by their Supreme Coordinator, and he during that very instant – if the concept of “instant” could be somehow correlated to the concept of “eternity” – was living outside of these high walls, observing his creation from within.

For the duration of uncountable eons, which were better known to advanced civilizations as galactic cycles, of time that was streaming like a water, the Observer behold many ascensions and demises of civilizations, whose development he has been monitoring. A great diversity of physical forms of their representatives – humanoid-birds, living on slopes of mountain worlds; reasonable, reminding mermaids inhabitants of oceanic worlds with their underwater cities, stretching for thousands of miles; large ant-like dwellers of industrial civilizations, who have built vast networks of underground tunnels and were controlled by collective intelligence of their lords; humanoids that were similar to orthograde octopuses and possessed strongest telepathic abilities; enormous butterflies, soaring over the plants that were rising on hundreds of meters over the surface of their native world – that seemed totally alien and inappropriate for a citizen of primitive civilizations, – were habitual to a mind’s eye of the one, who has watched formation and development of several tens of thousands of others.

The Observer had no right to interfere directly – others descended into physical worlds for this purpose – or, to be more exact, entered glowing portals, located in another section of the hall, – both chosen souls of representatives of these civilizations for their repeated corporal embodiment, as well as other much greater and perfect spirits. The Observer could warn others of the need for intervention and adjustments to a development course of free-willed civilizations if a probability of its demise due to deviation from the evolutionary course was becoming extremely high.

Lots of former great civilizations have disappeared from physical worlds long ago, having left their mournful trace only in the informational annals of the highest world as a lesson for civilizations of the future and a study material for new Observers. How many reasons and ways to bury themselves were in the arsenal of inexperienced civilizations, to what serious consequences imperfect consciousness and ethics of their representatives led them!

Among all them, there were those, who have destroyed themselves and own native worlds in civil wars. There were also those, who during uncontrolled processes of hyper-consumption completely exhausted resources of their native world, making it unsuitable for living. There were those, who were ruined by the science, worshipped by them and artificially imbued with qualities of infallibility – whether it was the destruction of microorganisms, necessary for the biosphere, or a creation attempt of inanimate clones of their own representatives, that was the greatest violation of the Third Commandment of the Highest World. Also listed as dead were those ones, who tried to improve their physical shapes with different mechanical implants or violent genetic changes of own population. There were those races, who were subdued and then destroyed by artificially thinking sentient machines, for they failed to designate a correct border and limits of artificial intelligence techs that were developed by them. There were those being bewitched by opening perspectives of management of existential points for the commission of interstellar spaceships jumps, who didn’t manage to build steadily working portals and were absorbed by artificially created analogs of galactic “black holes”. Among untimely died ones there were those who tried to operate the fourth and fifth dimensions and to fully transfer own kin there, but as a result, they were absorbed by rifts of spatial matter that were created during these scientific experiments. Finally, there were those, whose planets were just subjected to sterilization during interstellar wars by a more technologically advanced and aggressive opponent… In a word, no matter how high was the technological level of observed during eons civilizations, but arrogance, cruelty, and stupidity of their citizens were always going hand in hand with a sad fate.

For this reason several eons ago the Council of Observers has made a decision on creation of a group of the most advanced peaceful civilizations, that were following a strict internal ethics code and were capable to enlighten representatives of other races in case of compliance of their spiritual level to those technical miracles, which these civilizations possessed. To give too much tech to aggressive civilization was inadmissible, as it meant either almost guaranteed self-destruction of lower civilization in a short-term or an attempt to cause harm to one of the members of Intergalactic League. To give to a barbaric by the standards of League civilization any scientific discovery, that greatly exceeds their technological level, was meant to betray both a League and its ethics, and at best such an action from any of its members was punished by its exclusion from the League for eternity.

For a long time Observers have been studying tendencies of young civilizations development and their potential readiness for a meeting with representatives of the League – because such a meeting for primitive civilizations of physical world symbolized the end of habitual to them history, destruction of a set of scientific and social theories, a revolution in consciousness and understanding of own place in the universe, meaning of life and death.

Images in the mirror sphere, that were reflecting star systems, slid and smoothly replaced each other. Following Observer’s passes, this sphere rotated from one side to another, allowing to analyze a state of civilizations in adjacent galactic sectors. Today his attention was directed to one from several tens of primitive civilizations that were located in the same sector, whose inhabitants were calling their world as the “Earth”. A strange name for the world, covered with so many seas and oceans.

By all canons of intergalactic League, this civilization was absolutely barbaric, and the greatest dangers to its existence lied in attempts to violate the Third Commandment together with continuous inner planetary wars, raging throughout centuries. How many attempts of its rescue have been made, how many adjustment evolutionary scenarios were considered, and how much more has to be done in order to correct its self-destructive course. Even the question of the compulsory intervention of the League was brought up and then postponed. Yet not the question of this civilization’s fate disturbed the Observer today – during his immortal life he has seen a lot of most different fates – but the question of the fate of his Coordinator, who was living there at this very moment, in this small, inconspicuous for the detached onlooker, yet beautiful world.

The Observer inclined over the sphere, calculating and verifying scenarios and adjustments. He knew firsthand how hard the way of the evolution of consciousness is.

23.08.2017

0 notes

oceansouldeadboy-blog · 8 years ago

Text

Franz Kafka : The Metamorphosis

Franz Kafka The Metamorphosis

Franz Kafka was born in 1883 in Prague in a middle-class German speaking Jewish family. His father had a great on influence on his writing. He was described as: „a true Kafka in strength, health, appetite, loudness of voice, eloquence, self-satisfaction, worldly dominance, endurance, presence of mind, [and] knowledge of human nature” by Franz Kafka himself. His father’s loud, demanding and maximalist figure caused more anxiety in Kafka than what would have been a healthy amount. At university he studied law, not because he liked it, but it gave him a lot of carreer choices, which pleased his father. Finishing university he found work at an insurance company, altough he hated his work and just wanted to focus more on literary work. But he published very little of his works in his lifetime and only read his works out to his friends. After his death in 1924, Milena Jesenská and Max Brod collected his works and published them. Kafka’s works started to gain reputation in 1950s.

Kafka lived in a strange, uncomprehended world while feeling lonely and solitary. He realized that the machine of society has been alieneted from the people. Estrangement comes from only doing one part of a job, never actually creating anything meaningful, while having to fullfill a social role, where you cannot possibly be yourself. His views on relationships were realistic too. He saw that people only make friends so they are not alone, or to later use them in order to achieve their own goals. If he became part of this ’act’, he felt guilty, while the other option – escaping from society – made him lonely. Maybe the only way here is metamorphosis...

Kafka sees the world in an absurd way. His stories are just as absurd as the characters. They get into impossible situations from one day to another and we get to see them trying to deal with it. When it comes to describing these situations, Kafka remains completely objective, like it is just another day and there is nothing to get fazed about. These stories are like parables, always having another layer of meaning under the surface. Wanting to make the reader think is one the main purposes, as there is not only one absolute meaning, but there are several other ones as well. Which one do you see is up to you. Just as not everyone sees the world in the same way, not everyone will see the same meaning of a Kafka piece. Not to mention that not everything is explained and the reader constantly has to use his or her imagination to fill the blank spaces, or to continue or finish the story.

Stories of metamorphosis were popular even in the ancient times. The change itself was either internal or external or both. Medieval thrillers’ subject was often a vampire, whose change is both internal and external, but for example the beast from Beauty and the Beast only changes externally, because his personality doesn’t change.

The story is presented to us from the perspective of our main character, Gregor Samsa. His name already speaks volumes, because ’sam jsa’ means ’lonely’ in czech, and that is exactly who he is. His relationship with people are basically non-existant. He never had a girlfriend, his relationship with his family is cold, objective and detached. Gregor’s father is very similar to Kafka’s father, and the mother is suffering from asthma, basically meaning she is oppressed, and needs some air, also she doesn’t have a say in anything. And the father is causing his son mental pain, just like Kafka’s. Gregor has his deepest relationnship with his little sister.

The story goes as follows, Gregor wakes up one day just to find out that he turned into a bug overnnight.

„One morning, as Gregor Samsa was waking up from anxious dreams, he discovered that in bed he had been changed into a monstrous verminous bug.”

This, of course, is stated calmly and objectively like it was an everyday occurance. Before he turns into a bug, he is the sole money-maker of the family, and it does not bothers him, he is happy to help, but sadly he is being used, both by his family and his company. He worked more and harder than anyone, but was not appriciated for any of it. And he did not do it for himself, he did it for his family.

„If I didn’t hold back for my parents’ sake, I would’ve quit ages ago. I would’ve gone to the boss and told him just what I think from the bottom of my heart.”

His only hobby is making items out of wood, but he hardly has any time for that which could bring some meaning and colour to his life. Gregor’s life is just overall gray, lacking any meaning. As Nietzsche said:

„To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering.”

Gregor lacks this meaning, and tries to survive without it, which would not be that bad, but he only acts with fear and cowardness, always does what others wants him to do. Of course, life is meaningless, so it does not matter at all what we do with it, but at least, for our own sake, we should always try to improve ourselves. His room reflects his life perfectly. Practicality had the upmost importance in the room: a bed, a desk, a wardrobe, and even the picture on the wall was characterless. The dust under his bed symbolizes his unconsciousness trying to sweep feelings and thoughts under (in this case) the bed. All in all he lives a purposeless life.

Gregor’s transformation is both physical and psychological, altough his physical transformation is sudden, but his toughts will only change after some time from a man to a bug. What’s interesing here is that he will lead a more concious life, than what he did when he was a human. His mind will expand, and will realize so much more than he did before.

His transformation will be received in two main phases. First they will be frightened and uncomprehending, but I would be in quite a shock too if one my family members would turn into a bug overnight. One of Gregor’s first thought in the morning is that he should get out of bed and go to work, dispite him being transformed into a bug. And that is exactly what the family is afraid of, that he will not go to work and will not earn any money, but they will be even more afraid when they realized what had happened, also they will just try to ignore what happened. They will feed him, but they do not want to be in his company.

The second phase is guilt. They will be be ashamed that this happened to their son, altough they make some last miserable effort to communicate with him (maybe just to ease their consciense), but after a while they do not want to see him again. To avoid meeting him, they will hire a cleaning lady to take of the room instead. Next step is to find some work, which they will, rendering Gregor even more useless now, and the family is starting to play with the thought of getting rid of Gregor. Soon he will be just another item in the room. Grete, whom Gregor was the closest to in his human (and bug) life, tells the family that they should stop believing that the bug in the room is their Gregor, and that they should get rid of it.

The novel can be interpreted in many different ways. I am now going to list some of them, but I’m sure there is more than this.

I. Gregor was not living a life that is worthy to a human being, he was more like a machine, a thoughtless thing, or a less consious animal. He was already not a human inside, so it was inevitably that he turned into something else on the outside.

II. Gregor’s existential crisis has expanded leading to his transformation. He felt guilty for not sticking up for himself, and not changing his life. Therefore his transformation is a punishment.

III. Gregor becomes alieneted from his world, family and himself and it gets to a point where he simply transforms into something else.

IV. Gregor’s transformation can also be interpreted as a revolution. Seems like this was his only way to revolt againts the world he did not enjoy living in, but was forced to.

V. Gregor was forced into a specific social role, and he did not want to be part of it anymore, so society starts to see him as an outlaw, as a worm, so he turns into one.

VI. Gregor’s transformation may be a mask to disguise his own personality, that he so very much despises, from himself.

VII. Gregor may not even be transformed (what a plot twist it would be), he just does not want to fulfill his family’s expectations towards him. It is only his family that will see him as a worm.

In conclusion, what Kafka tried to achieve is to show how complicated life itself is. There is no single and simple solution to everything. Life is complicated but so as people.

#homework #dontjudgeme

0 notes