#this tsuba is likely going to be the closest I get

[saberamane]

Ok guys, I know there's a lot of controversy over AC Shadows right now...

But who is getting the collectors edition?

[warbarbie]

Hello! Super nervous about this but im a big fan of your fic shadow of the prince. I found out you have a tmblr and i wanted to ask if you had any inspo for Levi's cloths and Mikasa's armor? Like i know samurai armor is all p much the same but....

Hello anon! No need to be nervous, I would absolutely love to info dump on SotP, so thank you for your ask and for reading!! This ended up being longer then I though, so I'll drop it under a read more so it's not clogging up you dash!

Levi's wardrobe is obviously more extensive then Mikasa's, so I'll start with him. Levi's go-to is a long sleeved, lace up shirt, with a sleeveless doublet and pants, very similar to the below pics:

He tends to lean more for blacks, greens and browns in his doublet, but as the prince, he has more expensive colors like purple and some lighter blues.

I also took the inspiration for Levi's Dove Hill outfit from @rainer0w0 over on Instagram. They did a series of medieval outfit AoT character drawings that I fell in love with. Levi: https://www.instagram.com/p/CPoDJsNjeqC/?igshid=OGIzYTJhMTRmYQ==

They did one for Mikasa, but opted not to make her a samurai, which was a bummer, but it was still amazing: https://www.instagram.com/p/CScaahyBiQ3/?igshid=OGIzYTJhMTRmYQ==

Levi tends to wear something simpler when he's out on hunting trips, so he ditches the doublet and wears a leather vest:

As for his weapons, Levi uses a swept hilt rapier as his main weapon, with an arming sword for added defense/offense. He has a much fancier basket hit rapier for ceremonial occasions, but due to the weight distribution, it's not idea for fighting. Rapier's are fast, slicing swords that were also considered a gentleman's weapon, and that seemed to fit Levi perfectly, while the arming sword is used for deflecting, and stabbing if your enemy gets too close to use the longer reach of the rapier. It's length is roughly between a dagger and a short sword.

Rapier:

Arming sword:

Now for Mikasa! Obvi, our girl is in her armor almost all the time, and samurai armor is super iconic, but there are a few inspo pic's I pulled from. First, I wanted to go with the wide banded Do (chest armor) over the smaller tiles that was more common in earlier samurai armor. Second, I wanted to incorporate some red lacing in her armor, without making it crazy, so I opted to only have a single row of red lacing on the very bottom of her Sode (shoulder armor). So the general build is this:

But in this color scheme (ignore the gold lacing in the first pic):

The above picture on the left is the closest approximation, including the Kabuto (helmet). Speaking of which, I wanted to make sure her Maedate (the crest on the helmet) was something simple that wouldn't hinder her on the battlefield, as upper rank samurai and shogun maedate can get crazy big, so I opted for a simple and kinda generic crest similar to the one below, but without the large upward part in the middle:

Under her armor, she wears the traditional hakama, which are the wide legged, lose pants and hakamashita, which is a short kimono:

The process of putting on the armor is a whole thing, so I'll link a video, but basically, you start at the bottom and work your way up. Usually, samurai would have attendants to help them put everything on, but our girl is a super star, so she does it herself (also she's all alone). In the video, they already have the pants tied back for the Suneate (shin guards) and they're starting on the kote (armored sleeves)

And last but certainly not least, her swords! I think everyone on the face of the planet knows what a katana looks like, so it's easy to just show what her hilts look like:

Black and red, very on brand. On all katana, the tsuba (guard) is actually interchangeable and holds a great significance to the samurai, and Mikasa's tsuba is no different. That's about as far as I can get into it without crossing into spoiler territory, BUT I hope this helped paint a better picture of what they look like running around!

[queenmuzz]

Deep Blue Sea: Chapter XII

Living on Borrowed Time

Read the full story on Ao3 Here!

Warning: Descriptions of Violence, and mild descriptions of blood. 10:56PM

He looks so peaceful, you thought to yourself as you watched him doze off that night.  He was floating gently, with only his tail moving slowly to keep him from drifting too far up to the surface, or too far down to the floor.  It fascinated a part of you, of how his people had adapted to live in such a starkly different world than yours.  Another part of you was enthralled by his culture, the way his kind lived, interacted, their stories, songs, customs.

And yet, there was yet another part of you, the part that had grown to like him, and then to love him, who knew this couldn’t last.  You needed to set him free, and in an hour, you’d finally have the way to do so.

You thanked your lucky stars that you had not, in your ignorance, attempted to free him earlier.  You would have never forgiven yourself if you had inadvertently cursed him to a fate worse than death.  Perhaps being a meek, indecisive person had finally been a source of good.

But there was no indecisiveness now, no meekness.  You had a job to do, and by the Tidemother, you’d see it to its completion, no matter if it broke your heart.

Of course, Vergil had been completely left in the dark in all of this, you’d seen to that.  You’d kept up the facade of being a happy, excited bride to be, blaming your bouts of silence and furrowed brows on ‘just being nervous’ about the upcoming nuptials.  And he’d bought it hook, line, and sinker.

You placed your hand on the glass, as you once did when you two first met, but this time there would be no reciprocating hand on the other side.  It was probably better this way.

You quickly put on your jacket, keys at your hip, and codes in your head, and you slipped out into the late spring night.

It’ll be all over soon, Vergil. 

11:17PM

You pulled up to the deserted building with some relief.  In your haste to get out, you’d forgotten to check the security feed one last time.  But it seemed okay, no one was there, and the closest person who could be alerted to the break in was your father, and he was coming home from a business meeting, and wouldn’t be back until early morning.

Still, you fumbled a bit as you picked out the correct key.  Part of you wished you had had drank something, like Sarah had once suggested, to settle your nerves, but you reminded yourself you couldn’t afford being pulled over for impaired driving tonight. 

You made your way through the darkened building, before reaching the safe door.  This is where your family kept its most priceless documents, artwork, financial statements, and heirlooms.  Placing your finger on the scanner, you waited as the computer analyzed your fingerprint, and it registered you as a family member.  Once it recognized your biometrics, it asked for a six digit passcode.

After a moment’s hesitation, you punched it in, knowing that it was logging your entry into the safe.  That’s why you had to do it tonight, and the plan had to go flawlessly, you’d never get another chance at this once your father checked the security logs.

And once he did?  What’s the worst he could do?  Call off your wedding? You laughed at the thought.  After this was done, there was nothing your father could do, if he didn’t want to endanger his precious business deals that hung off this wedding.  So doing this would cost you nothing…

Save for your happiness.

The hiss of air as hydraulics opened the seal, like some 80’s sci-fi movie, and the buzz of fluorescent lights buzzing to life as they lit up one by one.  You cautiously made your way, pausing as you approached an old painting of your great grandfather, currently being kept here until a restorer could fix the frame and touch up the varnish.  Would he be disappointed at what you were doing?  You forced yourself to walk past him, your target next to the metal filing cabinet.  

There, leaning against it was that damned briefcase, with locked clasps.  Well, you might not have the key or code to unlocking that, but you did have something more versatile: your jackknife.  Slipping the blade under the clasp, you applied pressure, and with a loud metallic CLINK that echoed throughout the space, the lock cracked.  Taking a deep breath, you opened the case…

There, surrounded in custom cut polyurethane, was the most beautiful weapon you’d ever seen.  Dante’s sword might have exuded strength and power, but this...this practically radiated precision and discipline. The saya was made of the finest blue lacquered wood...but not just any wood. It gave off the distinct smell of being at the beach...driftwood.  You’d never thought something as worn and rough as that could be carved into something so gorgeous.

Wrapped around it and the tsuba was a sageo, but instead of rope, it was some sort of seaweed, finely woven.  And despite this weapon being trapped in dry stale air, it was still as flexible as if it had just come out of the ocean.  How odd. There was so much you didn’t understand about mer culture, whether they were capable of magic, or if it could be easily explained by science.

Your hand grazed against the tsuba, inlaid with mother of pearl that gleamed even in the harsh artificial light.  You felt a spark, not unpleasant, but strong enough to know it wasn’t just in your head.  A warning?  Slowly, you placed your hand around it, and now you could swear it was humming.  Taking a deep breath, you gripped a bit tighter, and with a smooth motion that you’d not expected, you expertly unsheathed the blade, with only a whisper as it left the confines of its saya.

Transfixed by it, you raised it up, to closer marvel at the metal work.  It was unlike any smithwork you’d ever seen, with possibly only the finest Damascus Steel coming close to it.  Ripples and waves, like an oily sheen, coated the metal, and you could have sworn that the patterns slowly changed.

You marveled at how unblemished the metal was, your reflection on it’s mirror-like surface, the reflection of your great-grandfather’s portrait, the reflection of Doctor Griffon.

Wait, what?

You turned around suddenly, to come face to face with the Good Doctor himself, his arms crossed, and a very fake smile plastered onto his face.

“My dear,” he slimely said, “I suppose it was a good thing that I forgot some of my papers tonight, because imagine my surprise when I came back to pick it up, and I came across a thief, stealing not gold, nor gems, but something much more priceless; my life’s work.”

“Steal!?” you questioned, “Strange, I could have sworn that this,” your eyes motioned to the weapon, “wasn’t yours to begin with.”

The bastard dropped the facade of fake friendliness. “You, a spoiled rich girl, coming in to dictate how I use my resources.  I already gave up my access to Subject Angelo for the desperately needed financial aid your father provided, all so that his little girl” he practically spat out the insult, “could have it as a pet.  But no, that wasn’t enough for her, she wants to steal the one thing that could get me into every single prestigious scientific journal in the world, to usurp my place as the preeminent expert on Merkind.”

“What?” You were perplexed.  The man was so up his scientific ass, he had just assumed your attempt at a prison break was actually a burglary for his stupid research. 

“You’ve got the wrong idea…” you tried to explain, knowing it was fruitless, but it didn’t matter, he cut you off.

“Oh I know exactly what you’re up to, I haven’t spent four decades being mocked by my peers in the scientific community to be that naive.  I know how they backstab each other for the merest crumb of success.  Now hand me back the weapon.”  his hand  reached out, as if he was a disappointed parent who caught his child with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Never,”  you hissed, and his face turned a dark shade of red. “Of course, ‘daddy’s little girl’ has never been told no,” he practically growled, and he lunged towards you. “I won’t give my life’s work to some know-nothing rich bitch”

You dropped the saya as you barely evaded his attack, his fists missing your face by a hair.  Yamato buzzed dangerously in your hand, and you placed both hands around the tsuba, almost instinctively.  You brought it up in a pale imitation of a Samurai pose, the tip shaking noticeably.

Griffon now snarled and attacked again in almost animalistic rage, and this time you dodged more easily, as if you were being guided by an unseen hand.  

Unfortunately, the doctor still blocked the way between you and the exit, so you would have to play this bullfighting game until you had an opening, and then make a run for it.  But right now, he had you pinned, the portrait frame digging at your back.  In this cramped space, you’d have only the tiniest bit of time to avoid the attack.  He seemed to notice as well, as with a maniacal grin, he yanked an antique brass candelabra from one of the shelves, and after smacking it into his hand to test its weight, he struck. 

You had no space, no time to move, so you brought up Yamato in a futile attempt to block, but then there was the sound of rushing wind, the smell of sea salt, and the sound of ripping fabric.

For the briefest of moments, you stood confused.  You’d somehow escaped from being bludgeoned.  But what was strange was your position.  You hadn’t moved, and yet it was if you and the doctor’s places had switched.  You stood back to back, both of you stunned.

“What the-” the Doctor started to say, but you didn’t let him finish.  Your hands fluidly moved, manipulating the tsuba of yamato as if you had practiced decades with it, twirling the weapon around, and without even glancing, you thrust the blade backwards.  It hit resistance, but something in you continued pushing, before the pushback stopped, letting the blade move quickly.

Immediately, the scent of copper filled your nostrils, and warmth sprayed at your back, and as you were released from whatever mysterious force had taken control of you, you heard the sound of the candelabra clattering to the ground.  You turned around, already knowing what you had done, but forcing yourself to face it.

Doctor Griffon was still facing away from you looking down, as if he was admiring the disfigured face of your ancestor.  A long gash marred your great grandfather’s face, caused by the edge of the candlestick.  His arms now dropped slack.  And sticking out of his back, like a pearl in a pile of refuse, was Yamato’s tsuba. Blood had sprayed everywhere, including the painting.  He was making a strange gurgling sound.

Panicking, you gripped the katana, yanking it out of his torso before his legs could buckle out from underneath him. 

As you did so, he fell backwards, nearly bowling you over with his dead weight. Blood smeared your shirt, your face, everywhere, as you frantically attempted to stop the bleeding. You took off your jacket, planning to somehow stem the blood flow, but already his skin had gone unnaturally pale.   To your growing horror, you realized he wasn’t going to make it.

And then the Doctor chuckled, punctuated by wet coughs, “Ironic,” and his blue tinged lips formed into a smile, “my life’s  work...leading to my death”

And with that, his head rolled to the side, and the cruel light in his eyes faded.

So there you sat, with the body of the man you hated more than anything, the man you had just killed.  Perhaps some mysterious power of Yamato had guided your hands, but the fact remained, your hands were responsible for the taking of another person’s life.  And just the thought of what you had done caused such a flurry of emotions, and then… you vomited on the cool cement floor.

Between heaves, you sobbed. You’d just done something you’d never thought in a million years thought that you’d do, and the guilt was threatening to drive you mad. You mentally grasped the one thing that was your sole thing to ground you: rescuing Vergil.  You had to save him, and only after that, could you focus on whatever happened next.  One step at a time…

Grabbing Yamato and it’s saya, you wiped your mouth, and quickly left the safe, leaving the blood spattered body, and the desecrated portrait of your great-grandfather behind.

******

You sat in the driveway in your home, car door open, attempting to spit out the taste of bile and vomit out of your mouth.  But only for about a minute.  The clock was ticking, and that little stunt you had pulled with the deceased doctor had cost you valuable time.  You checked your clock.

11:30 PM

You had no doubt that Dante would linger as long as possible at the rendezvous point, but still, you wanted to get this done and over with as fast as possible.  Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself and, leaving the car running, you walked into your home.

Vergil was awake, and seemed agitated.  Did he somehow know via Yamato what had happened?  His agitation turned to outright panic the moment he saw you, and it took a moment to remember you were coated in blood, now quickly drying into a rusty red into your clothes.

“Oh don’t worry,” you assured him, masking your own emotional turmoil with faux cheerfulness.  “It’s not MY blood”

It didn’t assure Vergil at all, who looked even more horrified.

You scaled the platform steps as quickly as possible, as he swam up to meet you.  “You don’t have to worry about that damn doctor anymore, he’ll never hurt you again.”

“Sifa, what did you do...”

“Added bonus too, I got you a gift,” you chirped, ignoring his question, “well, technically it’s not a gift if it originally belonged to the giftee… but let’s just say I managed to retrieve a lost item,” and you thrust the katana into his arms.

Vergil gently grabbed it, dumbfounded, before clutching it close to his chest.  It almost looked like he was communing with it, just like with the amulet.  

As touching as this reunion scene was, you both didn’t have time to enjoy it.  Without warning, you quickly gripped him around his arms, and thanks to your weeks of practice, you swung him into a bridal style hold.  He had only time to give out an undignified squawk of protest, before he swung his free arm around your neck to steady himself.  As you did so, you felt your engagement ring loosen, slip… and then fall off.  You’d retrieve it later, if you had the opportunity.

“Now,” you said, carrying him to you car “let’s get you home”

Behind you, the pink diamond studded gold ring sank to the bottom of the tank, settling into the sand.

******

Ordinarily you’d have some tunes playing out of the radio, but it was silent.

11:43 PM

You glanced at the clock as you drove down the deserted road, with only the full face of the Tidemother as witness.  Vergil, buckled in securely in the passenger seat, caressed Yamato like it was a long lost pet that recently came home.  Eventually, out of the corner of your eye, you saw a blue flash, and a brief burst of salt air, before you noticed the blade was gone.

“How did you know?” he finally said, attempting to get comfortable in what was no doubt an interesting position for him.

“If I tell you, will you promise not to hurt your brother?” you responded, your eyes never leaving the road.  Only a few more minutes, just needed to cross the bay’s suspension bridge, and then a side road to the beach.

“Of course, Dante would put you up to this” he muttered.

“He didn’t.”

“Pardon?” you didn’t have to look to see the shock on his face.

“This was my plan, he just gave me the final information to put this into motion.  Mind you, I wasn’t going into this with the intent of anyone dying, but...well…” you looked at your hand gripping the wheel, still covered in flakes of the Doctor’s dried blood.  Another wave of nausea threatened to blow up, but you managed to keep it down.  Besides it didn’t seem like there was anything left in your stomach to vomit.

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why do this?” he asked.

“Seriously Vergil, you’re asking me why I set a man free who had been imprisoned for over a year?  A guy who constantly tells me how much he misses the goddamn ocean?” your temper was beginning to get the better of you, and it took more and more effort to remain calm. “The question SHOULD be, why didn't YOU tell ME? Even in the beginning, if you had just said what you needed to go home, I would have gotten your soul-weapon for you.  I would have done ANYTHING to get you back home.  Did you not trust me?”

“In the beginning…” Vergil started out slowly, his breathing a bit erratic, “I suppose trust was an issue, with what I had already endured….”

“But afterwards, after we got to know each other, when I thought we could learn to trust each other?  Why not then…?”

“Things...had changed…” he hesitantly replied.

Just admit you had feelings for me, dammit, your mind screamed, that you didn’t want to leave me, the woman who imprisoned you, the daughter of the guy who killed your parents.  The thought of someone in that situation loving the person you were was confounding.

Ah, but you haven’t been truthful about your feelings either, another voice in your mind chided you, for all intents and purposes, he has no clue about your feelings about him, so you have only yourself to blame for the pain you are about to cause.

11:51 PM

“Sifa…”

“Stop.”

“Pardon?”

“Stop calling me that, please,” you attempted to blink the tears away.  “When we get to the ocean, your brother will be there waiting, you’re going to go with him, preferably without fighting him.  He’s going to take you somewhere far, far, away, I don’t know where, and frankly it would be better if I don’t.  I’m just going to ask you to do one thing.”

“Anything.”

“Forget this.  Forget me.  Forget us.”

There was complete silence as Vergil sat staring at you, in complete shock.  You might have well asked him to serve you a piece of the Dawnfather on a plate, judging by his reaction.  After a few moments of stunned stillness, he faced forward, and sighed.

“I...I… cannot.”

The tears fell down your cheeks, and the streetlights became nothing more than blurry halos lighting the deserted road as you finally approached the bridge.  

“You’re crying.”

“Great observation!” you gritted out sarcastically, cursing yourself for lashing out.  He hadn’t done anything to deserve your ire.

“You ask me to forget you, but I…”

“Your brother should be nearby, can you feel him with your amulet?” you cut him off.  You didn’t want to hear him admit that he loved you, because it took all of your willpower to maintain your plans.  It would be too painful to say goodbye in any other case.

Vergil paused, taken aback, before nodding in resignation.  “Yes, he is close.”

“Good, something is going right tonight at least”

“What about you?” he queried, concerned.  “You have blood on your hands, literally and figuratively speaking, and you humans do not look kindly on that,” his brow furrowed, “even if I think he deserved far worse” he muttered.

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll deal with the fallout.”

“I still care abo-”

He didn’t get the chance to finish, as a bright light from behind, temporarily blinded you.  Some idiot was driving with his hi-beams on, and was now tailgating you, as if he…

Oh no…

You recognized the car, even in the darkness.  Mercedes-Benz E-class.  The preferred car of…

The vehicle pulled up alongside you, the driver’s side window down, and to your horror, your fears were confirmed…

Your father.

The man began waving at you in the universal sign to pull over. In response, you gave him the universal sign to mind his own business.  And then you slammed down on the gas, accelerating away.  You could hear the sound of creaking leather as Vergil gripped on the seat, no doubt alarmed at the speed you were going.

Shit, as if things couldn’t get worse, you thought as you did as your father was left behind momentarily, before speeding up to match you.  He must have gotten home early and found out the security alert.  And he must have checked the video footage, and put two and two together.  Shit, shit shit….”

You were halfway across the bridge, less than two kilometres away lay freedom for Vergil, all you had to do was get there…

BUMP

You and your passenger were jostled.  You looked at your indicators, to figure out if you had blown a tire or something when 

BUMP

And then you realized your father was attempting to run you off the road.  Was he crazy?  The lights glowed in your rearview mirror.

BUMP

And this time, the hit was strong enough that you lost control, and when you attempted to correct, you inadvertently overcorrected,  causing you to fishtail in an increasingly erratic manner, eventually turning into a full blown spin out.

Eventually, you realized that you had no control over the car, and you let go of the steering wheel and gas, hoping you’d  just straighten out, but the car kept spinning…

“VERGIL! HOLD ON!” You screamed as you spun towards the concrete median.  You closed your eyes and went limp.

11:55PM

That was the time on the clock before the entire electrical system shut off.  You pushed  away the rapidly deflating airbags, wincing at the pain in your shoulder.  It wasn’t a sharp pain, but it still hurt like a bitch. 

A dribble of blood leaked from your nostril, but only a dull throbbing pain, so to your relief, it was probably just a bloody nose.

“Vergil!” you called out, fearful for the worst.  You shoved aside the fabric to see to your relief a conscious, if a bit dazed merman. He was bleeding from the mouth, and had a few cuts on his face and torso from the shattered glass, but they quickly faded away.

“I’m… I am fine” he said, as he licked the blood off his lip, “what about you?”

“Not important right now,” you quickly scanned the bridge.  There would be no way to carry Vergil to the beach now, it was much too far.  Tears began to form in your eyes, you’d been so fucking close!

And then… as you felt as if you were about to give up, you looked at the guardrail of the bridge, a mere twelve metres away from the vehicle.  Perhaps…..

Pulling out your jackknife, you began to saw through Vergil’s seatbelt, before pulling him out of the now crumpled up passenger seat.  You winced slightly at the pain in your shoulder as you carried him, but the adrenaline would be enough to deal with it. 

“Change of plans, Vergil” you said as you began to carry towards the metal guardrail.  “Prepare to dive.” Part of you was secretly thankful.  At least this way, the parting would be quick and painless.

Three metres away, a loud BANG rang out, and sparks sprayed far too close to you.  Instinctively, you spun around, to find the source of the sound, and came face to face with your father, shakily pointing a pistol at you.

“Dad….” you shouldn’t have been surprised, the man had nearly killed you by trying to stop your car.   But still, this is the man who raised you, loved you, cherished you.  How could he do something like this?  Or maybe… maybe you’d just assumed he had.  Or had he just looked at you as an investment, a stock portfolio that he needed to increase its worth? “Sweetheart, please don’t…” your father’s voice brokenly begged, “You don’t know what damage that creature will do if it’s set free.  Our family company barely broke even with all the repairs from what it has done.”

“So you’re totally okay with imprisoning him?  To experiment on him!?” You yelled back in anger.  Vergil stiffened against you.

“Look, is this about what happened to Doctor Griffon?” your father asked, totally missing the point. “Look, don’t worry, I can take care of everything!  The police won’t ever have to know!  I won’t let them arrest you!”

“Really, you think that I’m doing this because of that bastard?” you spat out.  Your rage and adrenaline could only mask the growing pain in your shoulder, and you struggled to keep Vergil steady.

“I don’t want you to get hurt, sweetheart!”

“YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I WANT!” You screamed at him, and you could see the growing fear in your father’s eyes.  “ALL THAT EVER MATTERED TO YOU WAS YOUR GODDAMN COMPANY!  YOU DON’T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT ME, YOUR OWN FUCKING DAUGHTER, YOU JUST WANT WHAT’S BEST FOR YOUR LEGACY!  MY WHOLE ENTIRE LIFE HAS JUST BEEN A WAY FOR YOU TO GROW YOUR GODDAMN BUSINESS!”  Finally expelling the long contained rage and bile you’d held back for years, no decades, felt so good. 

You calmed down a bit, “I’ll deal with the consequences of my actions on my own… and you can deal with yours.”

And with that, you turned back around and continued your way to the guardrail, disregarding your father’s orders and threats to stop. You were confident he’d never have the balls to shoot you. He might not care about you as his daughter, but he wouldn’t risk his ‘investment’ anymore than he had already done.

Two more metres to go, when another shot rang out, and you felt a blinding white hot pain in your lower back, and you stumbled forward a bit from the agony.   Your eyesight blacked out  about momentarily, and you felt yourself hit cool metal.  

Only the soft voice of Vergil calling your name was enough to bring you back.  In all the months you had known him, he’d never called you by your name.  “What’s wrong?” he asked with fear, something you’d never heard in his voice.

Your body began to feel numb, starting at your fingertips, but there was a growing warm wetness blooming from your stomach.  And the realization hit you, you’d been shot, and you were going to die.

Leaning against the guardrail, you chuckled.  Of course, your father, who had practically dictated every thing about your life, would choose the manner of your death.  At least, you could choose one thing.  Your final action.

“Farewell, Sifa…” you managed to force out, despite the pain, and the shortness of breath.

And with his shock at what you had just said, his grip loosened, giving you the opportunity to jostle him loose, and he fell into the moonlit darkness.  You could hear him hitting the water, then after a few moments of tense silence, the sloshing of water, and to your relief, you heard Vergil, screaming your name.  He’d made it unharmed... and now you prayed that he would swim far, far away.

You clutched your stomach, instinctively trying to stop the blood flow, but even you knew it was fruitless.   You were only delaying the inevitable.

Another voice from behind you called your name as well.  Using the guardrail to prop you up, you slowly turned around to see your father running towards you, terror in his eyes.

“Sweetheart, I’m so, so, sorry...I was trying to shoot a warning shot!  I just… I just got so nervous!  Don’t worry! ��I’m going to call an ambulance, you’re going to pull through this.  Please, just stay with me!” One hand on his cellphone, he reached out to steady you with the other, to slowly guide you to the ground

You were wrong.  You still had one more  choice you could make, how you would die.  It was morbidly funny.  You’d discovered the existence of merfolk over twenty years ago when you had almost drowned.  And now you could pay for living on borrowed time by returning to the ocean. With your last bit of energy, your hand carrying the jackknife swung out, slicing your father’s palm.  He pulled back in pain, out of instinct and you used the moment to lean back over the guardrail. With a contented smile on your face, you felt the rushing of wind.

You fell.

[warehouse13pod]

Show Notes 107 "Implosion"

Evil is afoot, Agents.

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This week's Writer Appreciation Corner focuses on Bob Goodman, a true asset to the Warehouse 13 writing staff. We love Bob Goodman and even featured a quote from his io9 article in our "Bonus 01 - Podcast 13 Season 1 Trailer,” linked here and embedded below.

You can follow him on Twitter as @b0bg00dman.

The episode starts with Pete imitating a dubbed Japanese samurai movie. This week's episode dealt a lot with a lot of ~heavy themes~ related to Japan and WWII, and interestingly those themes tie directly into the media history of samurai cinema. Pete was almost certainly imitating the action-packed samurai cinema films that were popular after WWII. And, in fact, most samurai cinema was set during the Tokugawa/Edo Period--exactly when the Honjō Masamune was crafted. You can find a list of some seminal works of Samurai Cinema from The Criterion Collection.

It's interesting that the episode focused on a Masamune being given as a gift to a US president after WWII, because a Masamune was actually given to President Harry S. Truman after WWII and currently resides in the Harry S. Truman Presidential Library and Museum. That's a pretty direct allegory to a sword being given to Woodrow Wilson and residing in the Woodrow Wilson Museum of Peace.

Incidentally, there is no actual Woodrow Wilson Museum of Peace, but there is a Woodrow Wilson Presidential Library and Museum, and it is (at least partially) a house!

And since the episode got to the Honjō Masamune pretty quickly and led to an early introduction of our expert in the podcast, let's give her the same treatment here in the show notes! We are so grateful and honored to have had the highly illuminating Dr. Nyri Bakkalian as our Artifact Expert this week. She shed so much light onto a subject that I have just…no other knowledge of whatsoever. It was fascinating to hear all she had to say about the Honjō Masamune and about Japanese swords post WWII more broadly. You can find her on Twitter as @riversidewings, check out her blog, or support her on her Patreon for more information.

Dr. Nyri Bakkalian shared a cringe-worthy story of someone who stripped a samurai sword to the tang. If you know nothing about swords (like me) then you probably didn't know what a tang was--or that there are so many more parts of a blade than the hilt, tsuba, and that long stabby bit. For my fellow sword novices, here's some info on the anatomy of a sword. Here's some information specifically on Japanese swords. And here's some information specifically on tsubas and other Japanese sword mountings.

But guess what?!

Dr. Bakkalian was kind enough to give us even more information after Miranda's interview. She sent us a link to a Japanese resource that discusses the real Honjō Masamune--and that even includes a diagram of the sword itself. Dr. Bakkalian added that "the sword was appraised many times, but it was designated a National Treasure of Japan in 1939, so we're fortunate that we at least have a paper trail if not the blade itself."

While I don't know much about swords, I do know a bit about kitchen knives. And what I know about kitchen knives ties in--very slightly--with the history of swords. Specifically, the layering technique of forging Japanese steel blades. Here's a bit more information on how Japanese kitchen knives are made and how that ties into the history of sword-making in Japan. Not that anyone asked, but I'm a big fan of my hybrid knife set that has a Japanese steel blade but a piece of thick metal that extends all the way down through the hilt like a German blade. The knives have a nice thin, sharp edge like a Japanese blade but a comfortingly weighty, solid handle that makes me feel more in control as I cook. I've included pictures of them, because I love them and this is the closest I can come to being useful about anything related to blades.

This episode dealt a lot with the frustration that can come from poor communication between friends and coworkers. This is something that Artie struggles with a lot. Here is an interesting blog post for any managers or team leaders out there looking to foster better communication in their workplace.

In the stakeout scene in the parking lot of the Japanese Embassy, Pete makes a joke about how the goggles make him look like Kermit the Frog. I couldn't find a pic or gif of him in the goggles, but here's a pic of Kermit.

As we get further into the series of Warehouse 13, we're starting to encounter more and more artifacts per episode, which means that we may not have experts on to discuss every single artifact that an episode references or features. That said, we love this fan wiki as a resource to look into the artifacts that don't get as much airtime on Warehouse 13 or on our podcast.

In this episode, we don't spend a lot of time on it, but Artie uses a 14th Century Firework called an "Ice Flower" that mesmerizes onlookers by triggering a feedback loop in their optic nerve. You can find out more about mesmerism in our show notes for 103 "Magnetism." The fan wiki points out that the firework resembles  a type of firework known as a Catherine wheel firework. Here's some more information about the history of fireworks.

In the hotel room with Artie, Pete, and Myka, Myka demands that Artie tell them exactly what the sword does. We learn that the sword turns the bearer invisible but splitting light in half. The bending and manipulation of light to essentially mimic invisibility is actually a thing that scientists are researching. There are lots of techniques they try, and you can learn more about them here.

In this same scene, we got another great detail from the brilliant art department on this show. As Artie is explaining the history of the Honjō Masamune, he pulls out a Japanese handscroll. Japanese illustrated handscrolls are a beautiful and intricate form of visual storytelling media and you can read more about them here. Personally, I learned about them from the video lecture series from Sunday at the Met entitled "Storytelling in Japanese Art." You can click the previous link or click play on the embedded video below to watch that lecture series.

You can find more lectures about art and history from The Metropolitan Museum of art on the museum's website or more directly, from its YouTube channel. I've found some truly amazing information there.

We made a reference to Kluger getting "dusted" (RIP Kluger). That was, you guessed it, a Buffy the Vampire Slayer reference.

Miranda referenced using the Oxford English Dictionary to look up the origin of the word "kabosh." The OED, as it is affectionately called is an amazing resource at whom's alter Miranda and I both worship. It's so much more than a dictionary. It gives the history and first use of every word you can imagine.

You can gain access to it with your library card number, so please: support your local library. Go and sign up for a card, so you can access this awesome resource.

Now that you have a library card (I'm assuming you dropped whatever you were doing to go support your local library and get a library card), you can now check out the books where the phrase "to put a kabosh on" were first used. The first was Sketches by Boz by Charles Dickens and the second was The Wheels of Chance by H.G. Wells.

It is taking literally everything in my power not to post a spoilery gif of H.G. wells right now, but I'm committed to keeping major plot developments out of the show notes until we discuss them on the podcast, so instead here's a picture of me right now trying not to spoil things.

We also discuss how Artie's file said he was suspected of espionage but was actually arrested for treason. Small fact check, but espionage and treason are different crimes.

Outside the Wilson Museum, Pete and Myka have one of their patented heart-to-heart and Myka unintentionally reveals--much to Pete's delight--that she is a fan of Star Trek: The Original Series. Specifically, she and Pete discuss the trope of "red shirts."

We talked about how the orange vs. purple Tesla reminded us of lightsabers in Star Wars and Priori Incantatem in Harry Potter.

Miranda gave a Mini-Actor Spotlight on the actor who portrays Mrs. Frederic's bodyguard, Jung-Yul Kim.

Meanwhile, our main Actor Spotlight of the week focused on James MacPherson himself, Roger Rees. His IMDB is incredibly impressive, but his credits extend far beyond his work on the big and small screen.

Miranda recognized him from his turn as Lord John Marbury in The West Wing.

We also gave a shout out to Rees' husband, Rick Elice, an accomplished writer and actor in his own right. Sadly, Roger Rees passed from brain cancer in 2015. He was a powerful and talented actor who left an enduring mark on Warehouse 13. Rest in Pease, sir.

We referenced this hilarious scene with Pete and Myka's gesture-based discussion about needing to shoot unsuspecting Secret Service Agents with the Tesla...

…and how it reminded us of Spike knocking over the "Welcome to Sunnydale" sign every time he entered and left town in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. (Another reference #TakeAShot)

We also take a moment to appreciate the importance of Leena to the Warehouse. She's great, and we want everyone to remember that she's great.

We also talk about how Artie's unwillingness to address the source of his closed-off nature ends up putting Pete and Myka in danger and making Myka very upset. She says that Artie needs to address his emotions instead of allowing his emotional scars to hurt those around him. Miranda and I support mental wellness and therapy. Please see our show notes for 103 Magnetism for a list of crisis resources.

The episode ended with a couple of quotes from the Talmud. You can learn more about Jewish Sacred Texts here. I haven't personally used this resource so I can't very translations or commentary or anything, but we always link to books we reference in the podcast--so, if you want, you can read the Talmud online here.

That's all for this week.

See you next time, Agents.