#this was painful to transcribe by the way
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
meljwrites · 1 year ago
Text
Transcript of the bookshop scene from Good Omens S2E6 from Maggie and Nina entering to Crowley leaving
M: Tidied up?
N: Where’s the other one, we need to talk to you.
C: He’s out. Not a good time. N: I wasn’t asking. There are things you need to here. (They sit) You and your… partner have been messing about in our lives.
M: We’re not a game, we’re real people. You can’t just pair us up for your amusement.
C: You were crying and Nina needed rescuing and —
N: my relationship just ended. I’m not ready to start another one yet. I’d just be a rebound mess. I can’t start seeing Maggie. When I’m ready, I hope she’ll be there, but there isn’t any guarantee.
M: There is.
N: You’re not helping, angel. Look at you two, you’re the hard button one, the can’t trust anyone ever again, and Mr Wherever He Is is the soft one who still believes in magic and people being basically good and all that.
C: Why are you telling me all of this? I don’t understand.
M: That’s why she’s telling you, because you don’t understand. Because you and Mr Fell don’t ever talk to each other.
C: We talk all the time! (Crosses legs) We’ve been talking for millions of years. Bla bla bla bla bla bla. I say something brilliant, he says something unintentionally funny back. It’s great.
M: You never say what you’re really thinking. That was all we needed. (Share a glance) It’s what you two need as well.
——
(A comes back into the shop.)
M: We’re just going.
N: I’m sure you two have a lot to say. (A takes a breath and smiles.) (C stands up and takes off his glasses)
C: Look, I suppose, um… I’ve got something to say. I know we aught to be talking about… It’s probably best if I start off doing all the talking, you do all the listening, ‘cause if I don’t start talking now, I won’t ever start talking, right? Yes, so—
A: What’s that lovely human expression? Oh, yes! Hold that thought. (Chuckles) You see, I… I have some incredibly good news to give you.
C: Really?
A: I… um… (clasps hands) So, um… the Metatron, you know I don’t think he’s as bad a fellow— Well, I think I might have misjudged him. You see, I— Well, he said, um, that Gabriel obviously hadn’t worked out… (laughs) as supreme archangel and commander of the Heavenly Host and he asked who I thought should take over in Heaven now that Gabriel was gone. And I said “Michael?”
M: “Oh, don’t be silly! No, no, no, no, no. There’s only one candidate that makes even the slightest bit of sense. And that’s you.”
A: And I said, “Me?” And he said…
M: “Well, yes. You’re a leader, you’re honest, you don’t just tell people what they want to hear. It’s why Gabriel came to you in the first place, I imagine. There are huge plans afoot, enormous projects, and I will need you to run them. You are just the angel for the job.”
A: “ I don’t want to go back to heaven. Where would I get my coffee?”
M: “You know, as Supreme Archangel, you would be able to decide who to work with. Yeah, I’ve been looking back over a number of your… previous exploits, and I see that in quite a few of them you formed a de facto partnership with the demon Crowley. Now if you wanted too work with him again, that… might be considered irregular but it would certainly be within your jurisdiction to restore your friend, Crowley, to full angelic status.”
C: He said what?
A: He said I could appoint you to be an angel. You could come back to heaven and… and everything, like the old times. Only, even nicer. (Laughs)
C: Right. And you told him just where he could stick it, then?
A: Not at all.
C: Oh, we’re better than that, you’re better than that, Angel! (Dances about) You don’t need them. I certainly don’t need them! Look, they asked me back to hell, I said no. I’m not rejoining their team. Neither should you.
A: Well, obviously you said no to Hell, you’re the bad guys. But Heaven… Well, it’s the side of truth, of light, of good.
C: When heaven ends life here on Earth, it’ll be just as dead as if Hell ended it. Tell me you said no. (steps forward) Tell me you said no.
A: If I’m in charge… I can make a difference.
C: Oh… (turns away and goes back to the clock) Oh, God. Right, okay. Right. I didn’t get a chance to say what I was going to say, I think I’d better say it now. Right, okay, yes, so… (sighs) We’ve been on this planet for a long time. I mean, you and me. I could always rely on you. You could always rely on me. We’re a group. Group of the two of us. And we’ve spent our existence pretending that we aren’t. I mean, the last few years, not really. And I would like to spend… (grunts) I mean if Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it, go off together, then we can. Just the two of us. We don’t need Heaven, we don’t need Hell, they’re toxic. We need to get away from them, just be an us. You and me, what do you say?
A: (shaking his head and walking up to Crowley) Come with me… to Heaven. I’ll run it, you can be my second in command. We can make a difference.
C: You can’t leave this bookshop.
A: Oh, Crowley. (Sadly) Nothing lasts forever.
C: (nods) No. No, I don’t suppose it does. (Puts glasses back on and walks away) Good Luck.
A: Good Luck? Crowley! Crowley, come back, (Crowley stops) to Heaven. Work with me! We can be together! Angels… doing good! I… I need you! I don’t think you understand what I’m offering you.
C: I understand. I think I understand a whole lot better than you do.
A: Well, then there[s nothing more to say.
C: Listen, here that?
A: (listens) I don’t hear anything!
C: Exactly. That’s the point. No nightingales. You idiot. We could have been… us.
(A turns away, C kisses him. A flounders then sobs.)
A: I… I forgive you.
C: (Sighs) Don’t bother.
5 notes · View notes
royalarchivist · 10 months ago
Text
Tubbo: I swear to God, Chat - I promise you, if it's the last thing I do, I am going to break up Fit and Pac.
Mike passed the crown of #1 Hideduo hater to Tubbo, and Tubbo took that title very seriously.
Tumblr media
[ Full Subtitle Transcript ↓ ]
-
Pac: I have a date with Fit tomorrow! You know the news, Tubbo?
[ Tubbo's Homophobic Arc ]
Pac: I got a date with Fit tomorrow!
Tubbo: You're - no... You're kidding..
Pac: Yeah, for real! Look - Mike shaved my hair you know, and gave me a new outfit so I can be like, sharp for tomorrow. ...You guys like it? You like it, Sunny?
[Judgemental silence]
Tubbo: That's so cool man, what he hell. That's fckin' sick.
Pac: Yeah, thank you! I knew it, I knew you'd- Oh, thank you, Sunny! I knew you guys were gonna love it, you know? I knew it.
-
Tubbo: I swear to God- I swear to God- We need to add homophobia to the QSMP, I swear to God- I swear to God-
-
Tubbo: Guys, I have to do everything in my power to break them up. What do you mean "no"?! This is awful, Sunny! This is awful!
Sunny: But why Pa?
Tubbo: THEY WERE NEVER MEANT TO GET TOGETHER! The stars told me so! They were never meant to actually get together!
Sunny: WHY PA
Tubbo: It's just wrong, Sunny! It's just wrong! I dunno how to explain it to you. It's just wrong!
Sunny: But it's loveeeee
Tubbo: ...If that's what you want to call it.
-
Tubbo: HOW IS THERE GONNA BE ENOUGH SPACE BETWEEN THEM FOR ME NOW, SUNNY?!
Sunny: You're telling me you've never been in love Pa?
Tubbo: Listen, it's just not right.
Sunny: But I like bodyguard Fit and driver Pac :(
Tubbo: I like them too! They're my best friends! But they can't be together.
Sunny: I think you are projecting
Tubbo: PROJECTING WHAT? HUH!?
Sunny: I will find you someone, Pa.
Tubbo: I DON'T WANT SOMEONE! I DON'T WANT SOMEONE IT ONLY SERVES TO DISAPPOINT ME AND GET MY HOPES UP AND LEAVE ME- LEAVE ME NOTHING BUT A SHELL! A SHELL OF A MAN!
-
Tubbo: Sunny - They're gonna hurt each other, Sunny- they're gonna hurt each other! And how will there be enough space between them for me now?
Sunny: Why would they do that if they care for each other?
Tubbo: People that care about each other, Sunny, hurt each other all the time! ALL THE TIME!
Sunny: But I care about you, and I don't hurt you.
Tubbo: No, that's different! That's different! The love that we have for each other is unconditional. Ok?
Sunny: Pa, I think you're just scared.
Tubbo: I'm not scared, I'm logical. All flags look red when you're wearing rose-tinted glasses.
-
Tubbo: [In response to Sunny talking about Aypierre's agreement to build her a statue] You already have a statue! [Sunny hits him] Ow!
Tubbo: What about the one Fit and Ramon made you for your birthday? [Tubbo has an idea] See? Do you think Fit would have time to do stuff like that if he's too- if he's too preoccupied with his little shag buddy? I don't think so! I don't think so!
Sunny: Wait.
Tubbo: See? You see what I'm saying? You see what I'm saying!
Sunny: You have a good point now
Tubbo: See? You under- yes, exactly! We HAVE to break them up! They can still be friends! Fck it, friends with benefits! But they cannot be together. We cannot let them.
Sunny: OK I'M IN
Tubbo: [Claps] I KNEW I COULD COUNT ON YOU! I knew I could count on you!
-
[Looking at fanart of Pac, Fit, and himself]
Tubbo: We- we have to split them up. We have to fckin' split them up. Oh, but I'm in this one! Oh, that's so-[Realizes it's him crying as a third-wheel] SEE?! SEE?! THEY KNEW! THEY KNEW! THEY FCKIN' KNEW! THEY FCKIN' KNEW!
-
Tubbo: [In a thick "red-blooded American" accent] Wha- I just don't understand why they have 'ta keep shoving it down our throats! Goddamnit! I JUST WISH IT WASN'T MY SMP! [He hits his desk and laughs]
-
Dono: Streamer becomes homophobic 'cause he can't get any
Tubbo:
Tubbo: Sunny, I'm just gonna need to brb for a moment.
Tubbo: [Stands up from his desk, walks away, and screams]
-
Tubbo: I swear to God, Chat - I promise you - if it's the last thing I do, I am going to break up Fit and Pac.
640 notes · View notes
sysig · 8 months ago
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I wasn’t using that heart anyway it’s fine (Patreon)
Tumblr media
12 notes · View notes
therenaissancedungeonmaster · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I have decided that a personal headcanon of mine is that after Siffrin leaves the time loops, he develops some form of chronic pain/fatigue, because if a guy is doing magic for 100+ loops straight subconsciously, on top of beating up monsters, it wears your body down. So have various post-game vignettes of Siffrin being comforted/having company while he recovers/on bad pain days.
For clarity, the vignettes from top to bottom, left to right are:
Isabeau showing Siffrin the stitching of their cloak in closer detail while Siffrin sits in Isabeau's lap.
Odile helping Siffrin transcribe some North Island texts, where he reads and she writes it down in Vaugardian, so the culture isn't lost forever. He is also doing this while clearly having a very rough pain day so he's in bed propped up chilling. In particular, this scene features Siffrin asking to stop for the day because he's tired, and Odile teasing him a little about it (in like a sarcastic like "oh how dare you ask for rest" way if that makes sense).
Bonnie giving Siffrin gyoza to try very excitedly, and Siffrin loves it. Bonnie talks about Odile helping them make the gyoza.
Finally, on one of Siffrin's better days, Mirabelle and him out on a picnic where he is giving her a wooden carving of Mirabelle that they worked on throughout their worser days. Mirabelle is absolutely tearing up about it.
1K notes · View notes
vorestarr · 10 months ago
Text
i love when Astarion is mean, and i mean like genuinely mean, saying shitty things and lashing out specifically to hurt someone or push them away. i think it really says so much about him and about the specific situations when he feels the need to lash out. i love seeing it with Durge/Tav, but i'm playing a Karlach origin to romance him right now and he's so mean during his first romance scene when he can't even kiss Karlach.
after playing it, i went to look at the parsed dialogue for that scene because i wanted to see if there were any dev notes, and oh boy are there dev notes. walk with me here while i go through them all. (i didn't add alt text to the images below, but i did transcribe the lines i'm referencing in the images below, so all the important information is in the text of the post itself.)
it's the typical Astarion scene, but after his "i've been waiting to taste you" line, he diverges with: "Although your condition means tasting you could be a risky proposition. You're quite the forbidden fruit, aren't you?"
the player (as Karlach) has a few choices in reply at that point, but as long as they pick one that progresses the scene (i.e., not the one where you reject him last minute), he goes down the same dialogue tree. this tree starts with:
Tumblr media
Astarion: All denied to us because of what Zariel did to you. [devnote: subtext, thinking about Cazador]
so right off the bat he's upset because Karlach's situation is reminding him of his own with Cazador.
but then his next line is:
Tumblr media
Astarion: I - you know, I have no idea what to do with you now. [devnote: Astarion's mask as the flippant libertine is cracking a bit here. He's frustrated but vulnerable here. Because he can't physically seduce or touch Karlach, his usual means of interacting with a person is punctured. He's faced with the reality that he might not know how to handle a situation where he can't bite or seduce his way to the finish line.]
wow. that's a lot in that dev note.
at this point, the player has the option of a few responses, but two options to continue the encounter. the choices to continue it are: "You don't have to 'do' anything. We can just be." or "After the life you've led, I'm not surprised."
if you choose the first option, Astarion is frustrated but less mean. he says:
Astarion: 'Just be' what, exactly? Frustrated? Bored? What do we do, if not... that?
if you choose the second option, he's a little meaner. understandably so, since the player just poked at his painful past:
Astarion: You think you know the life I've led? The experiences I've had? You've no idea the stories I could tell, sweet Karlach. But you - you're just -
then, both the paths converge to the same final statement, which is mean no matter what Karlach has said to this point:
Astarion: Urgh! Why is this so difficult? I'd have already bedded you twice if you were normal.
importantly, there are dev notes for all of his lines here, but the notes are all the same:
Tumblr media
devnote: Masking defensiveness with offensiveness. In truth he really does want what Karlach is offering (to just hang out without having sex) but now that it's within grasp he's floundering.
again, at this point the player has two choices to continue the encounter, and one to end it. i'll go down each continue path separately, since they can diverge quite a bit.
path 1
the first choice is to say: "Twice in this short space of time? Doesn't sound very satisfying."
he gets mad. and mean.
Tumblr media
Astarion: Karlach! You know what I mean. [devnote: Frustrated] Astarion: Or maybe you don't. Astarion: There may be an inferno in you, Karlach, but at the end of the day you've been frigid for a decade, isn't that right? [devnote: Being mean-spirited in an attempt to drive Karlach away, even though he doesn't actually want to do that.]
the player again has two response options to continue the encounter, and one to end it.
the first choice to continue the encounter is: "You want to try that again? Without being a jackass, maybe?"
in response he says:
Astarion: This is impossible - you're impossible! [devnote: Masking defensiveness with offensiveness. In truth he really does want what Karlach is offering (to just hang out without having sex) but now that it's within grasp he's floundering.]
(at this point, the path diverts to merge with the dialogue tree from the previous branch where Astarion complains about Karlach not being normal. so we'll pause here, and continue down that dialogue tree with the path 2 header below.)
the second choice to continue the encounter after Astarion says that Karlach has been frigid for a decade is to say: "What's really going on here, Astarion? Suddenly you're so vicious."
he replies:
Tumblr media
Astarion: Suddenly? Darling, you haven't been paying attention. [devnote: Seething and mean.] Astarion: Listen, it's just - ... I'm sorry, all right? Is that what you want?
again, at this point, he diverts to the same shared dialogue tree as the other response option. that merges with path 2, so we'll continue there:
path 2
to go BACK to the previous branch we went down, where Astarion said he would have bedded Karlach twice already if she was just normal, the other response option for the player is: "I am normal. 'Fucked up' is the height of normalcy."
instead of being mean, Astarion immediately apologizes:
Tumblr media
Astarion: Oh no - don't you tar me with your 'normal' brush. My demons keep me extraordinary. [devnote: Karlach has punctured Astarion's bad mood with a joke.]
and then he apologizes, like he does in the other paths, saying he doesn't know what to do without being able to touch her.
Tumblr media
Astarion: I - ...I'm sorry, Karlach. It's just, not being able to touch you - having to slow down, it's... I'm just not used to it. [devnote: subtext here is on the slowing down. That IS what he wants. But it's hard for him to see that clearly.]
Tumblr media
Astarion: So, can you -... I don't know. Help? Show me what to do? [devnote: First breakthrough. He's asking for help knowing what to do when you can't jump into bed with someone.]
again, at this point, the player has two options to continue the encounter or one to end it.
for the first response to continue, the player can say: "We can just talk. As long as we want. Then we can sleep. Near, but not too near."
Astarion responds to this one pretty positively. he's still a little mean, but it's in his fond teasing way, and not his biting, cruel way:
Tumblr media
Astarion: Karlach, champion of the Hells, wants to talk and then fall asleep? [devnote: Incredulous] My dear, you're much more boring than I gave you credit for. [devnote: Teasing] All right, Karlach. Let's try it your way. [devnote: Gently. He's feeling vulnerable, but sees that this might be a chance to feel safe.]
the second response option from the player is: "I don't know either. This is all just as new for me as it is for you."
he doesn't respond quite as well to this one, and goes back to being mean:
Tumblr media
Astarion: Well. To quote you: 'Fuck.' Astarion: Why don't we put ourselves out of this misery and just sleep? If I can at least look at you, I won't have wasted my whole evening. [devnote: Peak of Astarion sexy toxicity.]
then, the scene fades to black and it transitions to the morning-after scene with Astarion, where the player first sees his scars.
i also think as a whole, this scene is just so representative of Astarion's early-game state of mind. he's following a comfortable script with all his interactions, but when he's confronted with something new, he flounders.
especially when it comes to sex, which is a touchy subject for him, his first reaction to any vulnerability is to lash out and hurt people. in this scene:
if Karlach brings up his past experiences, he lashes out. ("You think you know the life I've led?")
he blames Karlach for the situation because that's easier than addressing that he doesn't know what to do without his script. ("if you were normal")
if Karlach jokes about him ("Doesn't sound very satisfying") he lashes out even further, calling her frigid and impossible and then even doubling down if she calls him out ("you haven't been paying attention").
but if Karlach jokes about HERSELF ("'Fucked up' is the height of normalcy"), it snaps him out of his toxic bullshit and he's able to take a step back and apologize to her.
then regardless, he's also able to recognize that this is an opportunity to get what he wants without having sex, and recognize that he wants that too.
and then to me, Astarion being mean in that last response choice ("I don't know either") makes perfect sense, given the context of his other lashing out earlier in the conversation. even if the player didn't make those previous choices where he lashed out at them, he can still get mean and toxic on this choice.
crucially, with this choice, he's taken that step of hopeful vulnerability where he recognizes that maybe he does want to just spend time with Karlach without having sex, but he doesn't know how to do it. he asks for help.
if the player says they don't know how to do that either, he immediately puts those defensive walls back up. he doesn't want to flounder around, he wants an answer. he wants to know that it's actually possible to have a positive experience with someone without the script he's always used. the player saying they don't have that answer just pisses him off.
wow okay this post got really long, but i really vibed with the dev notes for this scene, and i think you can see exactly these toxic behaviors from Astarion in other scenes and in romances with other characters as well, but it's just so so clear with the Karlach scene and the dev notes just really highlight that.
1K notes · View notes
leviathanleva · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Daisy
Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader [DARK FIC]
Description: Cooper Howard was not a kind man, he cared for nobody, but himself. Then he found you, a lost little dove, barefoot and crying, torn dress and big innocent eyes staring at him like he was a hero. He knew you’d be a burden, he knew you couldn’t survive in the wasteland, he was doing you a favor.
But he couldn’t pull the fucking trigger...
........................
[4k words]
🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼
Chapter 1 "The Savior"
Since the day you were born, there was something horribly wrong with you.
You had no immune system, your skin was paper-thin, you couldn’t exercise without collapsing, and every nerve in your body was in constant pain. There was no use for you aside from being a measly archive keeper and book transcriber. Your father was a weak man, despite your disabilities and how costly it was for the rest of your Vault, he kept you alive, consumed by the idea of finally finding a cure for his little girl.
Every single moment since your birth, you had spent in this squeaky clean, insanity-inducing, paper-ridden medical room. Everything was plagued by the stench of medicine and spirit, disinfected down to the core. The floor and walls and even the ceiling were covered in a leather cushioned layer to prevent any injuries, sparkling white, of course. Who needed color when the stench of new paint might cause you a migraine?
In honesty, you’d give away half of your miserable life just to see color outside of the packaged book covers stacked neatly on the floor. You built a makeshift city out of them, following the pictures drawn in an old magazine you’d read ages ago and kept hidden under your pillow. With time, you learned how to make paper flowers out of some stray files that nobody would miss. You had to find some solace, something to keep you from crying your delicate heart out every night because this was no way for anyone to live.
You weren’t just isolated from the world above, but from everything, only getting glimpses of the bright metal vault corridor and bustling dwellers whenever your father would open that wretched vacuum-sealed door to give you medicine. You knew people’s names and faces, everyone in your vault was memorized to the letter, but you’d never met them and probably never would.
You were never given your own Pip-boy, never assigned as a potential marriage candidate, and you’d never have children or any family once your parents passed away. A small part of you knew that you wouldn’t even outlive them, frail and genetically inferior as you were. You’d die within the next few years and you’d take the burden of your existence off the shoulders of everyone who worked tirelessly to find a solution to your illness.
You waited for that day with hope, dreaming of the end of the torture and solitude.
You had pleaded with your father that night with angry tears in your eyes to at least bring you coloring pencils or crayons or a radio to chat with the rest of the residents and make friends. But, as usual, he had refused gently while rocking you in his arms, cooing at you with a regretful tone and pain carving deep wrinkles in his features. Then he’d smiled at you, melting away your worry and frustration and misery, and he’d kissed your forehead tenderly. He still treated you like a little girl and to him, you’d always be one. He wiped your tears away and hope shone in his eyes, they looked exactly like yours, that was the only thing you’d taken from him. Everything else was a gift from your mother and you often looked in the mirror just to remember what she resembled.
She’d stopped visiting a long time ago, months, maybe even years, you weren’t sure. The passing of time was a fickle matter when you were caged in a cushioned prison every single day.
Your father hummed softly, lulling you while he gently tucked you into the nursing bed and secured the oxygen mask over your mouth. He was your angel, your only salvation, your only source of conversation and comfort and interaction and love. He adjusted the catheter back into your vein before fluffing up your pillow.
“This might be it, Sweetheart.” he whispered while watching you doze off slowly, his gaze held such affection for you. He placed a new IV bag to drain into your arm, one you’d not seen before, but you trusted him. This was nothing new. He came up with a new medicine recipe every month, without fail. “This might just be the cure. You’ll tell me how you feel tomorrow.”
You can only sigh and give your best smile, unable to share his enthusiasm after so many failed attempts. He rubbed a thumb over your sickly-colored cheek, his skin like sandpaper against yours, worn and calloused from spending a lifetime in the vault’s field.
“Have some faith in your old man.”
“I do, dad…I’m just so tired of this…”you bite into your tongue to keep more tears from spilling, and your bottom lip trembles despite your best efforts to tame it. Watching his face falter breaks your heart and you suck it up, push your tantrum down and pout instead. “And you’re not old.”
He laughs at your whiney remark, the first laugh he’d had in a long time, and he slicks back your hair, taking note that he needed to trim it soon before it got too long. Maybe when he had the energy, he’d sit down for more than a few minutes and braid it like he used to when you were just a child.
“I know you are, Baby girl, I know.” he shushes you with the utmost care and stands. “Just a little longer and you’ll be strong enough to help your pop pick out the tatoes. Get your pretty hands all dirty and then have a big plate of spam for a job well done.” he gazed at you, masking his sorrow and bitterness at the cruelty life had forced upon you. His hand hovered over the lamp switch and he glanced one last time at the brand-new IV bag slowly emptying in your bloodstream. “Night, Sweetheart. Love you.”
Too stricken with grief over your miserable lifestyle, you didn’t return his tender words, hoping he understood and knew that you loved him just as much if not more. When the lights went out, your eyelids closed, squeezing out a few lonely tears in the darkness before you begrudgingly drifted off to sleep. A dreamless slumber when you were gently rocked through the foggy confines of your subconsciousness.
Your one wish was to see the world outside, uncaring if it were a wasteland or a paradise, ignorant of the dangers and naïve towards the people who potentially lived up there. You just wanted to be free, even if it would cost you your life, you wanted to see the sky just once, wanted to prove to yourself that no, it looked better than any picture your father had shown you. You wanted to swim in the ocean and see fishes and see a whale, a creature so big it was unfathomable to imagine, you wanted to taste the salty sea water and become sick and just be happy to be alive for once. You wanted to feel the grass beneath your feet, to touch snow and dance in the rain until you slipped and fell in a puddle only to splash in it because you’d never seen or felt any nature.
You just wanted to live…
The hours ticked by in a hazy blur as you lay lifelessly on your bed. Your room was partly sound-proof, you heard nothing of the ruckus slowly brewing beyond your medicinal prison. Sleepy soundly, you didn’t hear the slaughter, the begging and pleading voice on the brink of crying before the sickening cracks of broken bones. You didn’t hear the crazed ramblings of the raiders stalking your fellow vault dwellers like it was a game of cat and mouse. Your vault was slowly succumbing to chaos and rampage and it was only when the electricity went out and your door unlatched that you were startled awake.
You bolt up with wide eyes and in a panic, gaze averting to the door and heart skipping a beat when you realize it’s open. With a small grunt and a relieved inhale once the oxygen mask is ripped from your face and tossed on your pillow, you scramble to stand. The IV is disconnected from your arm with an expert touch, replaced by a cotton ball to obscure any heavy bleeding from the open puncture wound. Your bare feet shuffle over the soft floor, slippery against the white leather because you’d unknowingly started to sweat from anticipation.
Was this just another cruel dream?
You walked to the exit with timid footsteps before opening the door wide enough to stick your head out. An incessant voice kept repeating how disappointed your father would be if he saw you sticking your nose out and potentially catching an infection from the unsterile air. That voice was dismissed promptly, this was your first chance at seeing anything beyond the medical room and you’d rather die than miss it.
Had the power gone out? But that was impossible. The power never went out, there had always been a steady flow of electricity for as long as you could remember.
The lights flickered, most were broken, letting the eerie darkness overwhelm all corridors except for one.
“Hello?” you call out hesitantly, shaky voice hoarse with sleep and anxiety both. Looking around, you couldn’t see much, there wasn’t a soul in sight and the silence was deafening. “Dad?”
Nothing. Nothing and no one.
A hand clutched at the door to support your buckling knees and you breathed deeply, encouraging yourself to be brave, that this was your chance. After dutifully gnawing on the inside of your cheek you stepped forth into the crossroads of corridors, letting go of the door and leaving everything familiar and safe behind. Your head whirled so much your neck popped multiple times as you frantically looked around in the scarce light and as terrifying as all of this was, it was also heaven unknown. You had never seen so many things – plant pots, plants, all bright green and juicy, you’d stuck your nail in a particular one only to feel a strange gooey discharge on your finger. It was a succulent, you’d read about those somewhere, very sturdy indeed, very pretty, but had no smell. You liked them already.
The further you went, the more a nagging thought kept creeping up your spine like a chill.
Where was everybody?
You kept looking, following the corridor and under the guidance of blinking lamps. You knew the Vault like the back of your hand after spending countless hours studying its diagrams, having nothing better to do. Now you were experiencing it in person. No longer needing to strain your imagination to picture every nook and cranny, you could see it with your own eyes. The floor was so cold under your feet, but you didn’t care, too high on adrenaline and pure joy to notice such a small inconvenience. A hand glided absentmindedly against the wall, tracing over pipes and posters and glass windows until you prickled your finger on a jagged edge and winced away.
You stuck the winger in your mouth with a pained scowl and glared up, searching for the source of your misfortune.
You froze.
Blood, everywhere, oozing down the wide hole in the window and silently gushing out of the disemboweled corpse of a human being, still warm. And even through the liters of blood and the sickening feeling of nausea that had your eyes dart to the floor, you immediately noticed the dark blue suit they were wearing. A dead vault dweller tossed through the window so hard they’d broken through and gotten impaled on the glass.
A vault dweller.
Dead…
DEAD!!!
You stumbled back and wretched, stuffing your mouth in the crook of your elbow and sputtering saliva as your stomach churned with bile. You bumped into a metal cabinet in your stupor, scraping for purchase as your legs lost all function, knocking over a clock and a radio that came to life as soon as it hit the floor. The sound echoed through the Vault, like a haunting melody to the arrival of a new victim, lured out and ready for slaughter. You.
Horror. A massacre, as the light flickered your eyes feasted on more marred flesh and ripped skin and so much blood. Crimson splatter and trails of handprints were strewn over the walls, the echoes of an dire struggle which ended in vein, trails of violence were etched into the hallway. You couldn’t hold it in anymore, you threw up, clutching at your stomach as you let out the traumatizing sight the only way your body knew how. Doubled over and twitching as the shock was replaced by such a raw feeling that you nearly lost your mind.
Corpses littered the floor beyond, caked in their own entrails, skulls bashed in, unrecognizable and still and…
“Hi there, Princess.”
A chill went up your spine as you realized that the frilly white dress you wore wasn’t enough to keep you warm beyond your room. Your skin littered with goosebumps, thin hairs standing up in fear as you stiffly craned your neck and looked back to the other end of the corridor. What little color was left in your face dissipated at the sight.
A man, disfigured and disgusting, with wild hair and wilder eyes and a grin that shook you to the bone stood there. He was shirtless, showing off a large hairy belly and covered in stick-poke tattoos, one of his legs was replaced by what you made out was a metal stick of sorts. He was three times your size…and he looked at you with such perverse intent that you nearly screamed. A vile creature, not even human anymore.
“Don’t be scared, Pretty.” he leered, chapped lips and rotting teeth and a foul blackened tongue, and raised a large palm in front of him to halt you from moving. “It’s okay…Come here. Come to me.”
Instinct took over and you automatically stepped back, not daring to take your eyes off him.
“Ah, don’t do that now.” he warned sweetly and slowly began walking towards you, creeping closer every time the lights flickered off. “You’ll just make this harder for you, yeah? Come to Eddie, Sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”
Everything about him screamed evil. He looked deranged and capable of things you’d never even begin to imagine.
A surface dweller. A survivor. A killer. A monster.
The moment his boot sunk in a pool of blood and squeaked against the floor realization hit you like a speeding truck. The grim expression should have been his sign to catch you, but you were already leaping over corpses with a blood-curdling screech. Your mind raced as you tried to orientate yourself through the corridors, bolting over shattered glass and spoiled food and so many dead bodies.
You needed to get out. Leave. Escape.
OUT!
His hollars bellowed behind you, alerting the rest of his friends because of course there were more and now they were aware of you and hunting you down like a deer in the forest. You let the tears run down your cheeks, forced the questions of your parents’ whereabouts and health because you already knew the answers, but you let them sink you’d end up like them or worse.
A horde of footsteps nipped at your bare heels and you sprinted and begged your weak little legs to go faster. Sucking in air as adrenaline pumped through your veins like poison, you jumped and ducked and whirled and assured yourself that you had the upper hand here, you knew the vault better than them. You stood a chance, you’d survive.
When the elevator came into view after you rounded a corner you nearly cried out in delirium. A roar nearly deafened you and you flinched, but your pace only increased as you pleaded and struggled not to trip over your feet. They were desperate, clawing at the air to try and reach you before it was too late. Your lungs burned with strain, your muscles felt like they’d tear any moment, but you kept pushing, high on horror and anger and a newfound zest for self-preservation
Salvation. Your only chance to live.
Your shoulder screamed in pain when you slammed against the metal walls of the elevator and thrusted your fist against the button vigorously.
“Come on. Come on. COME ON!”
“Get back here you little whore!”
“Please!” you wailed, screaming and stumbling back when a rusty axe collided with the shutting doors and made sparks fly with an ear-piercing screech. A hand flew up to cover your squinted eyes, sneering and sobbing as the raiders banged on the outside of the elevator and shot conniving curses at your crumbling form. You were slammed down on your arse by gravity as the elevator finally moved, taking you away from certain death as a slew of grim promises were expelled at you from below.
They’d find you, rip you apart, and make you wish you’d just died like the rest of your pathetic vault dwellers. You balled your eyes out, choking on spit and tears and gulping down air as your body shook violently. Clutching at your face, you stared down at your bloody feet with wide, unblinking eyes.
What was this nightmare…
When the elevator came to a halt and the doors reopened you barely managed to stand, the numbness in your limbs proving too much to handle and your upset stomach only contributing. But you had to keep moving, you had to run.
“Daddy…”
With ugly sobs and meek noises of strain and discomfort and utter distaste for your cruel fate, you tumbled towards the ajar vault entrance. Pressing down the button timidly before taking the discarded Pip-boy from the severed hand, you lock your tormentors into their grave and hurriedly tread towards the slowly closing vault exit.
The sun nearly blinds you and the hot desert sun knocks you to your knees as your hands sink to the wrists in sand. You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut before blinking rapidly and shielding your sensitive pupils from the blaring light.
It’s…barren.
A desert, stretching as far as your sight could reach, heated enough for the air to wiggle and dance in the distance, a decrepit city can be seen nestled not too far. A plethora of buildings crumbled to their bases hide away the sealed entrance to your vault, bones are scattered through the coarse sand, human shapes frozen in time, hinting towards a previous era of life on Earth, an era you’d only read about. Again, there wasn’t a soul around no matter how many times you circled your vision.
A wasteland. Painted yellow and orange and contrasting so beautifully with the clear blue sky.
You wanted to marvel and swoon and you would have given any other circumstance, but now, after everything you’d seen, after your mind had been so brutally defiled with images of slaughter, you were incapable. You stood, resisting the harsh breeze and angry sun, clad in nothing but a Pip-boy and a thin summer dress that was everything but white.
You had to walk, seek help, do…something. Anything.
And so you did. Trudging through the sea of sand and stepping hastily as the heat beneath your delicate feet nipped uncomfortably at your skin. Sweat clung to you like a protective layer, washing away any trace of the sensitive lavender shampoo you had used the previous night. Strands of hair clung to your flushed face as you fought a silent and unfair battle against the burning sunrays, one step at a time, with the wind as your only companion. Your nostrils struggled to breathe in enough air, but you didn’t dare open your mouth despite the temptation, fearing dehydration and death as it loomed over you like a shadow.
You walked for what felt like miles, accompanied by your thoughts and nothing else, until the Vault was hidden behind the golden dunes and your feet felt raw. The city was so close now, yet you were so tired, sucked dry by a heat you’d never experienced before, if it hadn’t been for your Pip-boy crackling to life you would have collapsed, too burdened and weak to continue.
You raised your wrist and looked down and were met by a familiar meter.
Radiation.
Something around you was radioactive enough for the device to pick up easily, but there was nothing but waves of yellow hell and you doubted the ground itself was emitting it. Then you heard it. That strange, high-pitched chirping, an alien sound that made your skin crawl and scraped at the back of your head tauntingly.
A scream loud enough to shatter glass ripped through your throat as a sharp sting pierced your ankle. You hit the soft sand with a whimper and rushed to turn on your back before kicking blindly at your assaultant. An ambush from below. Blood trickled from the gash, painting your skin a deep ruby red and spilling over the ground, luring out your predators like moths to a flame.
Insects, roaches too big to be real and too much for your fickle mind to comprehend crawled out of the sand. You’d fallen right into their trap, an unsuspecting victim, a banquet they’d probably not seen since they’d hatched.
Your heart pounded frantically, pulse thumping in the side of your neck as you flailed and screeched, chucking sand at them as they circled you. You wanted to run, every cell in your body fought for you to stand, but you couldn’t, you had no fight left. You’d die here, alone in this decrepit desert and eaten by giant cockroaches and this was going to be the story of your life. You sobbed so pitifully, so angry and bitter and bratty that after everything, this was to be your end. The world spun painfully fast and you wanted to vomit, but your stomach was empty and you only gagged.
With one last scream, you curled in a ball, covering your head with your arms and your legs protecting your belly, as one of the insects lunged forward.
When the gunshot rang in your ears you froze in place and time stopped. The roach flew back, slimy green entrails covering your form like a canvas. The other two hissed and you revolted at the noise, but they were shot a second later, blown to bits, dainty skittish legs twitching as the last few beats of life escaped them. The shadow of your savior dwarfed you completely, giving you respite from the cruel sun.
You roll over and sit up on your knees within a blink only to be met with the barrel of a gun too ratchet and rusted to belong to anyone but a wastelander. You recoil and blink through tear-heavy lashes before roughly adjusting your dress to try and cover your bare thighs from what you presumed was another man. The tip of the gun slid under your chin and guided your eyes up to feast upon your hero. You gulped and whimpered.
He was grotesque, like a man skinned alive and somehow survived, melted skin deformed his features and you’d bet your dinner there wasn’t a strand of hair under that worn cowboy hat. He had no nose, no eyebrows or even lashes, not a spec of hair. He grinned something awful down at you, looking at you like you were a fresh piece of meat, a delicacy among a table covered with rotten food. His stance was wide, torn dark cloth swaying dangerously in the breeze, he seemed almost aetherial in his own twisted and rugged way. You mewled softly as he turned your head from side to side with his gun, gently, mockingly, drinking you in from every angle as if you’d disappear if he so much as blinked.
Your hands clutched at the edge of your dress when he finally spoke and his voice made you inhale sharply and clench your jaw in anticipation.
“Well…Aren’t you a pretty little thing…”
🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼
(Listen, it's 7AM and I need sleep, but this mother trucker didn't want to leave me alone so have a chapter from my hastily strewn-together upcoming story. I'll post it on AO3 and probably here if it even happens. I'll fix mistakes later, don't eat me please.)
Chapter 2 >>>
🌼 Daisy Masterlist 🌼
Masterlist
690 notes · View notes
acealistair · 5 months ago
Text
Dragon Age: The Veilguard GameInformer Article Transcribed
I saw some people lamenting that they had no way to read the GameInformer article, and while MVP dalishious posted screenshots of the article here, I figured that might be a little difficult to read, plus people with screen readers can't read it of course. So I've gone ahead and transcribed it! Full thing below the cut!
As a note, I transcribed it without correcting any typos, capitalization errors, etc. that the article itself had (as much as it pained me, omg the author capitalizes so many things that shouldn't be and vice versa). There may be some typos on my part as I did this as quickly as I could, so apologies in advance for any you might encounter.
I have also created a plot-spoiler-free version of the article for those who would like to learn more about the mechanics of the game without learning more plot info than they want!
Throughout my research and preparation for a trip to BioWare’s Edmonton, Canada, office for this cover story, I kept returning to the idea that its next game, Dragon Age: The Veilguard (formerly subtitled Dreadwolf) is releasing at a critical moment for the storied developer. The previous installment, Dragon Age: Inquisition, hit PlayStation, Xbox, and PC a decade ago. It was the win BioWare needed, following the 2012 release of Mass Effect 3 with its highly controversial and (for many) disappointing ending. Inquisition launched two years later, in 2014, to rave reviews and, eventually, various Gameo the Year awards, almost as if a reminder of what the studio was capable of.
Now, in 2024, coincidentally, the next Dragon Age finds itself in a similar position. BioWare attempted a soft reboot of Mass Effect with Andromeda in 2017, largely seen as a letdown among the community, and saw its first live-service multiplayer attempt in 2019’s Anthem flounder in the tricky waters of the genre; it aimed for a No Man’s Sky-like turnaround with Anthem Next, but that rework was canceled in 2021. Like its predecessor, BioWare’s next Dragon Age installment is not only a new release in a beloved franchise, but is another launch with the pressure of BioWare’s prior misses; a game fans hope will remind them the old BioWare is still alive today.
“Having been in this industry for 25 years, you see hits and misses, and it’s all about building off of those hits and learning from those misses,” BioWare general manager Gary McKay, who’s been with the studio since January 2020, tells me.
As McKay gives me a tour of the office, I can’t help but notice how much Anthem is scattered around it. More than Mass Effect, more than Dragon Age, there’s a lot of Anthem - posters, real-life replicas of its various Javelins, wallpaper, and more. Recent BioWare news stories tell of leads and longtime studio veterans laid off and others departing voluntarily. Veilguard’s development practically began with the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020. When I ask McKay about the tumultuousness of BioWare and how he, as the studio manager, makes the team feel safe in the product it’s developing, he says it’s about centering on the creative vision. “[When] we have that relentless pursuit for quality, and we have passion and people in the right roles, a lot of the other stuff you’re talking about just fades into the background.”
That’s a sentiment echoed throughout the team I speak to: Focus on what makes a BioWare game great and let Veilguard speak for itself. Though I had no expectations going in - it’s been 10 years since the last Drag Age, after all, and BioWare has been cagey about showing this game publicly - my expectations have been surpassed. This return to Thedas, the singular continent of the franchise, feels like both a warm welcome for returning fans and an impressive entry point for first-time players.
New Age, New Name
At the start of each interview, I address a dragon-sized elephant in the room with the game’s leads. What was Dragon Age: Dreadwolf is now Dragon Age: The Veilguard. Why?
“These games are reflections of the teams that make them, and as part of that, it means we learn a lot about what the heart and soul of the game really is as we’re developing it,” Veilguard game director Corinne Busche tells me. “We quickly learned and realized that the absolute beating heart of this game is these authentic, diverse companions. And when we took a step back, as we always do, we always check our decisions and make sure they still represent the game we’re trying to build.”
Dreadwolf no longer did that, but each member of BioWare I speak to tells me The Veilguard does. And while I was initially abrasive to the change - lore aside, Dreadwolf is simply a cool name - I warmed up to The Veilguard.
Solas, a Loki-esque trickster member of the Elven pantheon of gods known as the Dread Wolf, created the Veil long ago while attempting to free the elves from their slave-like status in Thedas. This Veil is a barrier between the magical Fade and Thedas, banishing Elven gods and removing Elven immortality from the world. But players didn’t know that in Inquisition, where he is introduced as a mage ally and companion. However, at the end of Inquisition’s Trespasser DLC, which sets the stage for Veilguard, we learn in a shocking twist that Solas wants to destroy the Veil and restore Elves to their former glory. However, doing so would bring chaos to Thedas, and those who call it home, the people who eventually become The Veilguard, want to stop him.
“There’s an analogy I like to use, which is, ‘If you want to carve an elephant out of marble, you just take a piece of marble and remove everything that doesn’t look like an elephant,’” Veilguard creative director John Epler says. “As we were building this game, it became really clear that it was less that we were trying to make The Veilguard and more like The Veilguard was taking shape as we built the game. Solas is still a central figure in it. He’s still a significant character. But really, the focus shifts to the team.
“[We] realized Dreadwolf suggests a title focused on a specific individual, whereas The Veilguard, much like Inquisition, focuses more on the team.”
Creating Your Rook
Veilguard’s character creator is staggeringly rich, with a dizzying number of customizable options. Busche tells me that inclusivity is at the heart of it, noting that she believes everyone can create someone who represents them on-screen.
There are four races to choose from when customizing Rook, the new playable lead - Elves, Qunari, Humans, and Dwarves - and hundreds of options to customize your character beyond that. You can select pronouns separately from gender and adjust physical characteristics like height, shoulder width, chest size, glute and bulge size, hip width, how bloodshot your eyes are, how crooked your nose is, and so much more. There must be hundreds of sliders to customize these body proportions and features like skin hue, tone, melanin, and just about anything else you might adjust on a character. Oh, and there’s nudity in Veilguard, too, which I learn firsthand while customizing my Rook.
“The technology has finally caught up to our ambition,” Dragon Age series art director Matt Rhodes tells me as we decide on my warrior-class Qunari’s backstory, which affects faction allegiance, in-game dialogue, and reputation standing - we choose the pirate-themed Lords of Fortune.
Notably, instead of a warrior class, we could have chosen mage or rogue. All three classes have unique specializations, bespoke skill trees, and special armors, too. And though our Rook is aligned with the Lords of Fortune faction, there are others to choose from including the Grey Wardens, Shadow Dragons, The Mourn Watch, and more. There is some flexibility in playstyle thanks to specializations, but your class largely determines the kind of actions you can perform in combat.
“Rook ascends because of competency, not because of a magical McGuffin,” BioWare core lead and Mass effect executive producer Michael Gamble tells me in contrast to Inquisition’s destiny-has-chosen-you-characterization.
“Rook is here because they choose to be, and that speaks to the kind of character that we’ve built.” Busche adds, “Someone needs to stop this, and Rook says, ‘I guess that’s me.’”
Beyond the on-paper greatness of this character creator, its customizability speaks to something repeated throughout my BioWare visit: Veilguard is a single-player, story-driven RPG. Or in other words, the type of game that made BioWare as storied as it is. McKay tells me the team explored a multiplayer concept early in development before scratching it to get back to BioWare basics. The final game will feature zero multiplayer and no microtransactions.
Happy to hear that, I pick our first and last name, then one of four voices, with a pitch shifter for each, too, and we’re off to Minrathous.
Exploring Tevinter For The First Time
Throughout the Dragon Age series, parts of Thedas are discussed by characters and referenced by lore material but left to the imagination of players as they can’t visit them. Veilguard immediately eschews this, setting its opening prologue mission in Minrathous, the capital of the  Tevinter Empire. Frankly, I’m blown away by how good it looks. It’s my first time seeing Veilguard in action and my first look at a Dragon Age game in nearly a decade. Time has treated this series well, and so has technology.
Epler, who’s coming up on 17 years at BioWare, acknowledges that the franchise has always been at the will of its engine. Dragon Age: Origins and II’s Eclipse Engine worked well for the time, but today, they show their age. Inquisition was BioWare’s first go at Ea’s proprietary Frostbite engine - mind you, an engine designed for first-person shooters and decidedly not multi-character RPGs - and the team struggled there, too. Epler and Busche agree Veilguard is the first RPG where BioWare feels fully in command of Frostbite and, more generally, its vision for this world.
We begin inside a bar. Rook and Varric are looking for Neve Gallus, a detective mage somewhere in Minrathous. The first thing players will do once Veilguard begins is select a dialogue option, something the team says speaks to their vision of a story-forward, choice-driven adventure. After a quick bar brawl cutscene that demonstrates Rook’s capabilities, there’s another dialogue choice, and different symbols here indicate the type of tone you can roll with. There’s a friendly, snarky, and rough-and-tough direct choice, and I later learn of a more romantically inclined “emotional” response. These are the replies that will build relationships with characters, romantic and platonic alike, but you’re welcome to ignore this option. However, your companions can romance each other, so giving someone the cold shoulder might nudge them into the warm embrace of another. We learn Neve is in Dumat Plaza and head into the heart of Minrathous.
Rhodes explains BioWare’s philosophy for designing this city harkens back to a quick dialogue from Inquisition’s Dorian Pavus. Upon entering Halamshiral’s Winter Palace, the largest venue in Dragon Age history at that point, Dorian notes that it’s cute, adorable even, alluding to his Tevinter heritage. If Dorian thinks the largest venue in Dragon Age history is cute and adorable, what must the place he’s from be like? “It’s like this,” Rhodes says as we enter Minrathous proper in-game.
Minrathous is huge, painted in magical insignia that looks like cyberpunk-inspired neon city signs and brimming with detail. Knowing it’s a city run by mages and built entirely upon magic, Rhodes says the team let its imagination run wild. The result is the most stunning and unique city in the series. Down a wide, winding pathway, there’s a pub with a dozen NPCs - Busche says BioWare used Veilguard’s character creator to make each in-world NPC except for specific characters like recruitable companions - and a smart use of verticality, scaling, and wayfinding to push us toward the main attraction: Solas, attempting to tear down the Veil.
All hell is breaking loose. Pride Demons are rampaging through the city. Considering Pride Demons were bosses in prior games, seeing them roaming freely in the prologue of Veilguard speaks to the stakes of this opener. Something I appreciate throughout our short journey through Minrathous to its center below is the cinematography at play. As a Qunari, my character stands tall, and Rhodes says the camera adjusts to ensure larger characters loom over those below. On the flip side, the camera adjusts for dwarves to demonstrate their smaller stature compared to those around them.
This, coupled with movie-liked movement through the city as BioWare showcases the chaos happening at the hands of Solas’ Veil-break ritual, creates a cinematic start that excited me, and I’m not even hands-on with the game.
Eventually, we reach Neve, who has angered some murderous blood mages, and rescue her from danger. Or rather, help… barely. Neve is quite capable, and her well-acted dialogue highlights that. Together, Varric, returning character Lace Harding, who is helping us stop Solas and is now a companion, Rook, and Neve defeat some demons. They then take on some Venatori Cultists seizing this chaotic opportunity to take over the city and other enemies before making it to Solas’ hideout. As we traverse deeper and deeper into this hideout, more of Solas’ murals appear on the walls, and things get more Elven. Rhodes says this is because you’re symbolically going back in time, as Minrathous is a city built by mages on the bones of what was originally the home of Elves.
At the heart of his hideout, we discover Solas’ personal Eluvian. This magical mirror-like structure allows the gang to teleport (and mechanically fast-travel) to Arlathan Forest, where Solas is secretly performing the ritual (while its effects pour out into Minrathous).
Here, we encounter a dozen or so demons, which BioWare has fully redesigned on the original premise of these monstrous creatures. Rhodes says they’re creatures of feeling and live and die off the emotions around them. As such, they are just a floating nervous system, push into this world from the Fade, rapidly assembled into bodies out of whatever scraps they find.
I won’t spoil the sequence of events here, but we stop Solas’ ritual and seemingly save the world… for now. Rook passes out moments later and wakes up in a dream-like landscape to the voice of none  other than Solas. He explains a few drops of Rook’s blood interacted with the ritual, connecting them to the Fade forever. He also says he was attempting to move the Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain, part of the Evanuris or Elven gods of ancient times, to a new prison because the one he had previously constructed was failing. Unfortunately, Solas is trapped in the Fade by our doing, and these gods are now free. It’s up to Rook to stop them; thus, the stage for our adventure is set.
The Veilguard Who’s Who
While we learned a lot about returning character but first-time companion Lace Harding, ice mage private detective Neve Gallus, and veil jumper Bellara Lutara, BioWare shared some additional details about other companions Rook will meet later in the game. Davrin is a charming Grey Warden who is also an excellent monster hunter; Emmrich is a member of Nevarra’s Mourn Watch and a necromancer with a skeleton assistant named Manfred; Lucanis is a pragmatic assassin whose bloodline descends from the criminal House of Crows organization; And Taash is a dragon hunter allied with the piratic Lords of Fortune. All seven of these characters adorn this Game Informer issue, with Bellara up front and center in the spotlight.
The Lighthouse
After their encounter with Solas, Rook wakes up with Harding and Neve in the lair of the Dread Wolf himself, a special magical realm in the Fade called the Lighthouse. It’s a towering structure centered amongst various floating islands. Epler says, much like Skyhold in Inquisition, the Lighthouse is where your team bonds, grows, and prepares for its adventures throughout the campaign. It also becomes more functional and homier as you do. Already, though, it’s a beautifully distraught headquarters for the Veilguard, although they aren’t quite referring to themselves as that just yet.
Because it was Solas’ home base of operations, it’s gaudy, with his fresco murals adorning various walls, greenery hanging from above, and hues of purple and touches of gold everywhere. Since it’s in the Fade, a realm of dreams that responds to your world state and emotion, the Lighthouse reflects the chaos and disrepair of the Thedas you were in moments ago. I see a clock symbol over a dialogue icon in the distance, which signals an optional dialogue option. We head there, talk to Neve, select a response to try our hand at flirting, and then head to the dining hall.
A plate, a fork and knife, and a drinking chalice are at the end of a massive table. Rhodes says this is both a funny (and sad) look at Solas’ isolated existence and an example of the detail BioWare’s art team has put into Veilguard. “It’s a case of letting you see the story,” he says. “It’s like when you go to a friend's house and see their bedroom for the first time; you get to learn more about them.” From the dining hall, we gather the not-quite-Veilguard in the library, which Busche says in the central area of the Lighthouse and where your party will often regroup and prepare for what’s next. The team decides it must reach the ritual site back in Arlathan Forest, and Busche says I’m missing unique dialogue options here because I’m Qunari; an Elf would have more to say about the Fade due to their connection to it. The same goes for my backstory earlier in Minrathous. If I had picked the Shadow Dragons background, Neve would have recognized me immediately, with unique dialogue.
With our next move decided, we head to Solas’ Eluvian to return to Arlathan Forest and the ritual site. However, it’s not fully functional without Solas, and while it returns us to Arlathan Forest, it’s not exactly where we want to go. A few moments later, we’re back in the Arlathan Forest, and just before a demon-infested suit of mechanized armor known as a Sentinel can attack, two new NPCs appear to save us: Strife and Irelin. Harding recognizes them, something Dragon Age comic readers might know about. They’re experts in ancient elven magic and part of the new Veil Jumpers faction. The ensuing cutscene, where we learn Strife and Irelin need help finding someone named Bellara Lutara, is long, with multiple dialogue options. That’s something I’m noticing with Veilguard, too - there’s a heavy emphasis on storytelling and dialogue, and it feels deep and meaty, like a good fantasy novel. BioWare doesn’t shy away from minutes-long cutscenes.
Busche says that’s intentional, too. “For Rook, [this story’s about] what does it meant to be a leader,” she says. “You’re defining their leadership style with your choices.” Knowing that Rook is the leader of the Veilguard, I’m excited to see how far this goes. From the sound of it, my team will react to my chosen leadership style in how my relationships play out. That’s demonstrated within the game’s dialogue and a special relationship meter on each companion’s character screen.
Redefining Combat Once More
Bellara is deep within Arlathan Forest, and following the prolgoue’s events, something is up here. Three rings of massive rocks fly through the air, protecting what appears to be a central fortress. Demon Sentinels plague the surrounding lands, and after loading up a new save, we’re in control of a human mage.
Following the trend of prior Dragon Age games, Veilguard has completed the series’ shift from tactical strategy to real-time action, but fret not: a tactical pause-and-play mechanic returns to satiate fans who remember the series’ origins (pun intended). Though I got a taste of combat in the prologue, Veilguard’s drastic departure from all that came before it is even more apparent here.
Busche says player complete every swing in real-time, with special care taken to animation swing-through and canceling. There's a dash, a parry, the ability to charge moves, and a completely revamped healing system that allows you to use potions at your discretion by hitting right on the d-pad. You can combo attacks and even “bookmark” combos with a quick dash, which means you can pause a combo’s status with a dash to safety and continue the rest of the combo afterward. It looks even cooler than it sounds.
Like any good action game, there is a handful of abilities to customize your kit. And, if you want to maintain that real-time action feel, you can use them on the fly, so long as you take cooldowns into effect. But Veilguard’s pause-and-play gameplay mechanic, similar to Inquisition’s without the floating camera view, lets you bring things to halt for a healthy but optional dose of strategy.
In this screen, which essentially pauses the camera and pulls up a flashy combat wheel that highlights you and your companions’ skills, you can choose abilities, queue them up, and strategize with synergies and combos, all while targeting specific enemies. Do what you need to here, let go of the combat wheel, and watch your selections play out. Busche says she uses the combat wheel to dole out her companions’ attacks and abilities while sticking to the real-time action for her player-controlled Rook. On the other hand, Epler says he almost exclusively uses the combat wheel to dish out every ability and combo.
Busche says each character will play the same, in that you execute light and heavy attacks with hte same buttons, use abilities with the same buttons, and interact with the combo wheel in the same way, regardless of which class you select. But a sword-and-shield warrior, like we used in the prolgoue, can hip-fire or aim their shield to throw it like Captain America, whereas our human mage uses that same button to throw out magical ranged attacks. The warrior can parry incoming attacks, which can stagger enemies. The rogue gets a larger parry window. Our mage, however, can’t parry at all. Instead, they throw up a shield that blocks incoming attacks automatically so long as you have the mana to sustain it.
“What I see from Veilguard is a game that finally bridges the gap,” former Dragon Age executive producer Mark Darrah, who left BioWare in 2021 before joining the Veilguard team last year as a consultant, tells me. “Uncharitably, previous Dragon Age games got to the realm of ‘combat wasn’t too bad.’ In this game, the combat’s actually fun, but it does keep that thread that’s always been there. You have the focus on Rook, on your character, but still have that control and character coming into the combat experience from the other people in the party.”
“This is really the best Dragon Age game that I’ve ever played,” he adds, noting his bias. “This is the one where we get back to our roots of character-driven storytelling, have really fun combat, and aren’t making compromises.”
Watching Busche take down sentinels and legions of darkspawn on-screen, I can already sense Veilguard’s combat will likely end up my favorite in the series, although admittedly, as a fan of action games, I’m an easy sell here. It’s flashy, quick, and thanks to different types of health bars, like a greenish-blue one that represents barrier and is taken down most effectively with ranged attacks, a decent amount of strategy, even if you don’t use the pause-and-play combo wheel. Like the rest of the game, too, it’s gorgeous, with sprinkles, droplets, and splashes of magic in each attack our mage unleashes. Though I’m seeing the game run on a powerful PC, which is sure to be the best showcase of Veilguard, Epler tells me the game looks amazing on consoles - he’s been playing it on PlayStation 5 and enjoying it in both its fidelity and performance modes, but I’ll have to take his word for it.
Pressing Start
The start or pause screen is as important to a good RPG as the game outside the menus. Veilguard’s contains your map, journal, character sheets, skill tree, and a library for lore information. You can cross-compare equipment and equip new gear here for Rook and your companions, build weapon loadouts for quick change-ups mid-combat, and customize you and your party’s abilities and builds via an easy-to-understand skill tree. You won’t find minutiae here, “just real numbers,” Busche says. That means a new unlocked trait might increase damage by 25 percent against armor, but that’s as in-depth as the numbers get. Passive abilities unlock jump attacks and guarantee critical hit opportunities, while abilities add moves like a Wall of Fire to your arsenal (if you’re a mage). As you spec out this skill tree, which is 100 percent bespoke to each class, you’ll work closer to unlocking a specialization, of which there are three for each class, complete with a unique ultimate ability. Busche says BioWare’s philosophy here is “about changing the way you play, not statistical minutiae.”
Companion Customization
You can advance your bonds by helping companions on their own personal quests and by including them in your party for main quests. Every Relationship Level you rank up, shown on their character sheet, nets you a skill point to spend on them. Busche says the choices you make, what you say to companions, how you help them, and more all matter to their development as characters and party members. And with seven companions, there’s plenty to customize, from bespoke gear to abilities and more. Though each companion has access to five abilities, you can only take three into combat, so it’s important to strategize different combos and synergies within your party. Rhodes says beyond  this kind of customizable characterization, each companion has issues, problems, and personal quests to complete. “Bellara has her own story arc that runs parallel to and informs the story path you’re on,” Rhodes says.
In Entropy’s Grasp
As we progress through the forest and the current “In Entropy’s Grasp” mission, we finally find Bellara. She’s a veil jumper, the first companion you meet and recruit in-game (unlike Neve, who automatically joins), and the centerpiece of this issue’s cover image. Because our mage’s background is Veil Jumper, we get some unique dialogue. Bellara explains we’re all trapped in a Veil Bubble, and there’s no way out once you pass through it. Despite the dire situation, Bellara is bubbly, witty, and charming.
“When designing companions, they’re the load-bearing pillars for everything,” Rhodes says. “They’re the face of their faction, and in this case [with Bellara], their entire area of the world. She’s your window into Arlathan Forest.” Rhodes describes her as a sweetheart and nerd for ancient elven artifacts. As such ,she’s dressed more like an academic than a combat expert, although her special arm gauntlet is useful both for tinkering with her environment and taking down enemies.
Unlike Neve, who uses ice magic like our Rook and can slow down time with a special ability, Bellara specializes in electricity, and she can also use magic to heal you, something Busche says Dragon Age fans have been desperate to have in a game. Busche says if you don’t direct Neve and Bellara, they’re fully independent and will attack on their own. But synergizing your team will add to the fun and strategy of combat. Bellara’s electric magic is effective against Sentinels, which is great because we currently only have access to ice. However, without Bellara, we could also equip a rune that converts my ice magic, for a brief duration, into electricity to counter the Sentinels.
As we progress through Arlathan Forest, we encounter more and more darkspawn. Bellara mentions the darkspawn have never been this far before because the underground Deep Roads, where they usually escape from, aren’t nearby. However, with blighted Elven gods roaming the world, and thanks to Blight’s radiation-like spread, it’s a much bigger threat in Veilguard than in any Dragon Age before it.
I continue to soak in the visuals of Veilguard with Arlathan Forest’s elven ruins, dense greenery, and disgusting Blight tentacles and pustules; it’s perhaps the most impressive aspect of my time seeing the game, although everything else is making a strong impression, too. I am frustrated about having to watch the game rather than play it, to be honest. I’m in love with the art style, which is more high fantasy than anything in the series thus far and almost reminiscent of the whimsy of Fable, a welcome reprieve from the recent gritty Game of Thrones trend in fantasy games. Rhodes says that’s the result of the game’s newfound dose of magic.
“The use of magic has been an evolution as the series has gone on,” he says. “It’s something we’ve been planning for a while because Solas has been planning all this for a while. In the past, you could hint at cooler magical things in the corner because you couldn’t actually go there, but now we actually can, and it’s fun to showcase that.”
Busche, Epler, and Rhodes warn me that Arlathan Forest’s whimsy will starkly contrast to other areas. They promise some grim locations and even grimmer story moments because, without that contrast, everything falls flat. Busche likens it to a “thread of optimism” pulled through otherworldly chaos ravaging Thedas. For now, the spunky and effervescent Bellara is that thread.
As we progress deeper into the forest, Bellara spots a floating fortress and thinks the artifact needed to destroy the Veil Bubble is in there. To reach it, though, wem ust remove the floating rock rings, and Bellara’s unique ability, Tinker, can do just that by interacting with a piece of ancient elven technology nearby. Busche says Rook can acquire abilities like Tinker later to complete such tasks in instances where Bellara, for example, isn’t in the party.
Bellara must activate three of these in Arlathan Forest to reach the floating castle, and each one we activate brings forth a slew of sentinels, demons, and darkspawn to defeat. Busche does so with ease, showcasing high-level gameplay by adding three stacks of arcane build-up to create an Arcane Bomb on an enemy, which does devastating damage after being hit by a heavy attack. Now, she begins charging a heavy attack on her magical staff, then switches to magical daggers in a second loadout accessed with a quick tap of down on the d-pad to unleash some quick attacks, then back to the staff to charge it some more and unleash a heavy attack.
After a few more combat encounters, including one against a sentinel that’s “Frenzied,” which means it hits harder, moves faster, and has more health, we finally reach the center of the temple. Within is a particular artifact known as the Nadas Dirthalen, which Bellara says means “the inevitability of knowledge.” Before we can advance with it, a darkspawn Ogre boss attacks. It hits hard, has plenty of unblockable, red-coded attacks, and a massive shield we must take down first. However, it’s weak to fire, and our new fire staff is perfect for the situation.
After taking down this boss in a climactic arena fight, Bellara uses a special crystal to power the artifact and remove it from a pedestal, destroying the Veil Bubble. Then, the Nadas Dirthalen comes alive as an Archive Spirit, but because the crystal used to power it breaks, we learn little about this spirit before it disappears. Fortunately, Bellara thinks she can fix it - fixing broken stuff is kind of her thing, Epler says - so the group heads back to the Veil Jumper camp and, as interested as I am in learning what happens next, the demo ends. It’s clear that even after a few hours with the game’s opening, I’ve seen a nigh negligible amount of game; frustrating but equally as exciting.
Don’t Call It An Open World
Veilguard is not an open world, even if some of its explorable areas might fee like one. Gamble describes Veilguard’s Thedas as a hub-and-spoke design where “the needs of the story are served by the level design.” A version of Inquisition’s Crossroads, a network of teleporting Eluvians, returns, and it’s how players will traverse across northern Thedas. Instead of a connected open world, players will travel from Eluvian to Eluvian to different stretches of this part of the continent. This allows BioWare to go from places like Minrathous to tropical beaches to Arlathan Forest to grim and gothic areas and elsewhere. Some of these areas are larger and full of secrets and treasures. Others are smaller and more focused on linear storytelling. Arlathan Forest is an example of this, but there are still optional paths and offshoots to explore for loot, healing potion refreshes, and other things. There’s a minimap in each location, though linear levels like “In Entropy’s Grasp” won’t have the fog of war that disappears as you explore like some of Veilguard’s bigger locations. Regardless, BioWare says Veilguard has the largest number of diverse biomes in series history.
Dragon’s Delight
With a 10-hour day at BioWare behind me after hours of demo gameplay and interviews with the leads, I’m acutely aware of my favorite part of video games: the surprises. I dabbled with Origins and II and put nearly 50 hours into Inquisition, but any familiarity with the series the latter gave me had long since subsided over the past decade. I wanted to be excited about the next Dragon Age as I viewed each teaser and trailer, but other than seeing the words “Dragon Age,” I felt little. Without gameplay, without a proper look at the actual game we’ll all be playing this fall, I struggled to remember why Inquisition sucked me in 10 years ago.
This trip reminded me.
Dragon Age, much like the Thedas of Veilguard, lives in the uncertainty: The turbulence of BioWare’s recent release history and the lessons learned from it, the drastic changes to each Dragon Age’s combat, the mystery of its narrative, and the implications of its lore. It’s all a part of the wider Dragon Age story and why this studio keeps returning to this world. It’s been a fertile franchise for experimentation. While Veilguard is attempting to branch out in unique ways, it feels less like new soil and more like the harvest BioWare has been trying to cultivate since 2009, and I’m surprised by that.
I’m additionally surprised, in retrospect, how numb I’ve been to the game before this. I’m surprised by BioWare’s command over EA’s notoriously difficult Frostbite engine to create its prettiest game yet. I’m surprised by this series’ 15-year transition from tactical strategy to action-forward combat. I’m surprised by how much narrative thought the team has poured into these characters, even for BioWare. Perhaps having no expectations will do that to you. But most of all, with proper acknowledgement that I reserve additional judgment until I actually play the game, I’m surprised that Veilguard might just be the RPG I’m looking forward to most this year.
154 notes · View notes
moonshynecybin · 1 month ago
Note
Hi, new to motogp and i’m a sucker for friends to enemies to lovers and relationships drama and pain so obviously i love marc/vale, i am also think marc is fascinating, but I haven’t found much info detailed info vale’s smear campaign against him/his media savvyness/his entire personality, like i think i grasp the bare bones but, are there any tumblr essay that are required reading to you? Also any good posts about this arm injury (aside for the documentary that i will be watching this weekend)
i love arm. ummmm his documentary is pretty much the story. like the central conceit/plot of the whole damn thing is to chart this latest operation on the injury he sustained in jerez 2020 its GONNA give you most of the information on that. now, that being said. marc is a liar sometimes, so i'm gonna try and gather some resources that might give a better idea on where his arm is NOW, because its something he kind of contradicts himself about !
simon patterson interview with The Race podcast: shockingly candid tbh. i think lil homie was having a bit of a crisis. standing on the edge of a cliff facing down possibly the end of his career. what if the move to gresini sucks ass kinda moment. couching his chances this year pretty aggressively. he ALSO says some stuff about how fucked up his arm still is that hes since tried to mildly walk back cuz hes funny. anyways because im insane i transcribed it:
SP: Did you have to switch teams this season? Did you have to change to something that gave you more of a chance to win after the last few years after how difficult everything has been? MM: Yeah, of course if I change teams its because it was something that I need. And yeah, of course it was a risky movement, but at the same time it was a movement thinking on my career, not on results in a short time. Its like thinking if I have the motivation, if I’m competitive again. You know, I had— three years ago, four years ago I had a very big injury, a hard injury in the arm. And yeah, now its working well, but still is not— I mean its the arm that you open four times. If you ask to a doctor, of course its performing in a good way, but its not the same arm. But I have many question marks inside my head. So, the best way to answer to myself is— do what I want. And yeah, its a risky movement. Why? Because the comfortable movement is to stay where I was, with my people, with my friends, with a big salary, the project. But I decided to jump to a new project and at the moment we will see if I can answer the many questions that I have. SP: It sounds like the reason you did it, the questions you have to answer are all for yourself. It's not about– MM: No, no no no– it's just for me. Because for me— I say many times in my interviews— if I don't feel competitive– and competitive doesn't mean win or win, it means be in that top five top six, and yeah five four podiums, five four victories. Win a championship is super difficult. And especially it becomes more and more difficult when the years are passing and the younger [people] are coming. So the life is the life and every athlete has his moment, and then step by step it goes down. But yeah I need to feel again competitive to continue with my career.  Especially these last four years, has been, I mean– has been a nightmare, but is like it has passed super quick. The other years I was competing. I mean in the last four years I’ve completed half the championship, because I had many injuries, so now I need to find this stability, this pace. To start to create again a good base to fight for some races to the top positions— this is my intention. But to fight for the championship? This is something that still I’m not ready for. SP: You said that you learned a lot, during all of this. Is there things that have made you better? Are there things that youre gonna come back now with like new skills because of the experience? MM: No. I will not be better than before. Because– Yeah, maybe I have more experience, but before I was 100% in physical condition, and I was fresh. People say ‘No, he will come back stronger.’ When you have an injury, of course it's— injury is an injury. When you have an injury like two, three years, you lose the rhythm, you lose the feeling sometimes. And then it's super difficult to repeat all those things. But especially because your body— I mean they say the body is super smart, it can adapt. The body is super smart to adapt to new things, but it also is smart to remember what’s going on there. So yeah. I will be different, maybe— but not better.
theres also this similar quote from jan 2023:
Tumblr media
theres also this recent statement from mat oxley talking about his arm and his sort of. show no weakness when it can be used against you philosophy
Tumblr media
SO. following with that observation. he's started also kinda. being more noncommittal and vague in interviews/presscons now that he senses blood in the water. show no weakness expose no underbelly type stuff. so theres this in preseason which is actually around the same time as the patterson interview where he's still couching it a bit but hes also very adamant that his arm is working:
Tumblr media
and then the BIG change comes around mugello this year, when he was fishing HARD for that ducati 2025 seat and changed his tune uh. QUITE a bit:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
finally just some posts psychoanalyzing his ass about arm/injury, MOST of which are fairly recent. here, here, here, here, here, and here. ive also aggregated some recs for content good for learning about him in general here! go with god
76 notes · View notes
secretarysong · 1 month ago
Text
Mayzuketober Day 5: Comfort
Tumblr media
nothing too fancy schmancy tonight ... this was colored at first but it looked completely different. Then i realized i wasn't the biggest fan of the colored version so i focused on the lineart instead. and thennnnn i was like. Well i can't just *leeeave* it in black & white. so i put on some color layers and fancy blending modes and shit and i realized This is kind of fire
more nettsy ramblings below.......
lately i've been thinking a lot about disabled Zuke ... i've seen a lot of headcanons about him having something in his legs/back/shoulders (based on how his drumsticks have a cane form ingame) + one of the mayzuke fics i read daily mentions him with multiple sclerosis and it's kind of stuck with me since then i think Zuke is often busying himself with Something in order to take his mind off the baseline pain but the way he does it is. like. really subtle. he doesn't jump from thing-to-thing like a metronome, but he'll get really really absorbed in books or projects in his workshop or transcribing drum tracks before he gets the chance to dwell on it. i feel sometime after actually starting the band with Mayday, he had talked to her about it, and it's lingered in the back of her mind since. of course, she encourages Zuke to go all out -- always has, and she always will -- but, like, she never forces him to over-exert himself. she'll remind him to. like. Listen to his freaking body. ...but May won't force him to stop what he's doing, either; won't hang his condition over him like an oppressive weight, she just takes precautionary measures to minimize the chance of it biting him in the ass later on . because at the end of the day it's Zuke who knows himself best & she trusts that he's aware his own limits. she's not a tether ... she's more of a safety net. so Zuke can focus on enjoying all his body has to offer instead of worrying hard about how he'll feel later on and... if Zuke's fine, then Awesome! if he needs May at his side for whatever reason, be it some assistance, or to listen -- or even just for the sake of Not being alone -- she'll be right at his side in less time than it takes to say 'Bunk Bed Junction.' which, i can't really say that this is exactly what's Going on in the drawing itself because it's sort of ambiguous and up to interpretation but. i had this all vaguely in mind while making it. inspired by today's prompt being 'comfort'
105 notes · View notes
captainkirkk · 8 months ago
Text
✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩
All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.
Merlin
The Walls of Camelot by spqr
"Camelot will fall tomorrow,” Arthur says, on the first day of the eighth month of the siege.
DC
IRIS Log #1548 by deadchannelradio
Disclaimer From Your Friendly Neighborhood Oracle:
The following is a transcript of Patrol Communications Audio written by state of the art transcription technology, IRIS (Interpretation of Recorded Intelligence Software). IRIS was created to provide easily searchable records, automatically, and eliminate the need to transcribe each patrol audio log manually. That being said, IRIS is still experimental, and may not always be entirely accurate. - (01:25) Red Hood: (Mild static) (Out of breath, slurred) You motherfuckers. Put some fuckin-
(01:25) Batman: (Shaking) Red Hood-
(01:25) Red Hood: Shut up. Put some fucking respect. On my name. Start fucking copying me. I just got thrown fucking. Um. 40 feet. Into a fucking uh. What's it. Ditch. I'm still fucking conscious.
(01:25) Batman: Red Hood, do not move, we're en route-
(01:25) Red Hood: What'll I win if I stand up.
(01:25) Batman: (Loud) Do not stand up.
we shall be free; we shall find peace by mediant
Clark has accepted what it means to be Lex's prisoner - the pain of the Green, the experiments, the hands on it. The long years buried in its containment cell, let out only to act as Lex's weapon, as Lex's tool. It had fought back at first, but years have ground it down and away to almost nothing.
Then Lex hands it a baby. And Clark realizes that while it may have hurt humans, and lied about what it is, and it may deserve to be locked away - Kon deserves to be free.
Untamed
The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli (+ podfic)
Wei Wuxian’s hand jolts, spilling a drop of wine onto the tabletop. “Love?” he croaks, then clears his throat and tries again. “Lan Zh— uh, Hanguang-jun, in love?”
“Have you not heard the story?” the other young woman asks, looking pitying. “You must, it is a truly heartrending tale of star-crossed romance and mutual pining — go to any storyhouse in town, everyone has been requesting a reading of this book.”
“There’s a book?” Wei Wuxian says blankly.
-- In which the junior disciples (namely, Lan Jingyi, Ouyang Zizhen, and a reluctant Lan Sizhui) turn to RPF in an attempt to rehabilitate Wei Wuxian's reputation so that he and Hanguang-jun can get together and get married and live happily ever after. It's... surprisingly effective.
Clone Wars
patron saint by spqr (+ podfic)
Funerary practices? Master Ti writes back. I’m not sure what you mean, Master Kenobi. Used biomass is the property of Kamino and thus is recycled into the cloning process.
So that’s how the revolution begins—with dead brothers, but not the way you might expect.
Miraculous Ladybug
drowning (in plain sight) by buggachat
Everybody had expected Monarch's defeat to be a moment of triumph. Nobody had expected Gabriel Agreste, unmasked and mind frayed from continual abuse of the miraculous, crying out to all who would listen and making Paris certain of one thing:
His son, Adrien Agreste, is one of his sentimonsters.
And now he's missing.
Nobody can find him— not even the superheroes, and not even his closest friends. But Marinette, Nino, and Alya aren't ones to give up so easily. They'll find him, no matter what it takes.
(But, geez, would it kill Chat Noir to lend a hand?)
188 notes · View notes
m0llygunn · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
sans toi (eddie munson x fem!reader)
summary: The realities of life lead you to be apart from Eddie for a few days. When you return, Eddie shows you how much he missed you.
contents: 18+! smut, p in v sex, fluffy/sweet sex, french language. a/n: mini french lesson: 'sans toi' is 'without you', 'toujours avec toi' is 'always with you'. french is my second language and sometimes phrases just sound nicer lol. also, this is way different from my other stuff, just thought id try it out. wc: 1k
Desperate fingertips trail up the underside of your thighs, skin pinching between grip, guiding you closer to his lap.
“Missed you so much.” He whispers, words sailing through the living room of the trailer you’ve become so fond of.
“Was only a few days, Mr Munson.” You tease gently, voice dancing with excitement. You like him when he’s like this. 
Fingertips turn claw like, pressing firmer into your skin leaving lust laced wells in your flesh around each of his 10 digits. Bruising but welcomed. 
He sits up, chasing the lips he’s been dreaming of since he was 15, kissing since only a few months ago. He missed you more than ever. It has only been a few days, but a few days is a few too many. 
Since the day he had your sweet lips on his, tasted the syrup of your goodness, he knew there would never be a moment he didn’t want you, that he didn’t need you. It was damning and fortuitous all at once.
Your hips bracketing his on the worn couch, his fervent grip travels upwards, only stopping when he’s halted by his fingers trapping under the material of your shorts. 
His focus becomes your lips. How you open up just for him, tongue caressing his so perfectly. The way your little gasps get stuck in your throat, and when he bites your plump lower lip, how those gasps mature into moans. He’s never met someone who’s made him feel like this.
Every instant of desire is chased with the unholy pain of love. He loves you. It makes his heart ache, and it’s not fair when he has you like this, making his cock ache just the same. A double edged sword until you give him the gift of making it all better.
“How much did you miss me?” You say, keeping your voice dainty. It reminds Eddie of a wind chime in the breeze of a hot summer's day, sounding like how he imagines stars twinkling in the night sky would. It's beautifully soothing, yet there’s a certain quality that sends shivers down his spine.
“So much, baby.” He answers, words blooming easily from his chest because of their verity. If you asked him to describe how much he missed you, then he’d have no answer. There simply aren't enough words in the English language to describe that. Even if he pulled from every language in the world, they would never translate to the feelings in his heart. 
“You gonna show me how much you missed me?”
Clothing sheds easily, heaps of entwined material gathering on the floor. He unwraps you, replacing each clothed piece with dozens of freely spared kisses in their wake. Positions changing, he brings your back to press gently against the cushions.
Divine and holy; your body below his. Each kiss pressed upon your skin like a prayer. He worships you, showing you his devotion by speckling every inch of your skin with his affection. His favourite part, your eyes; second, your smile; third, your everything. Beyond being just a favourite: your heart, your kindness, your love. 
Nose grazing along your chest, following the trail of his lips, he shows you how much he missed you by going slow. Taking his time, both for you and for him. 
He transcribes each moment to memory. He captures it through his touch, hands grazing over your body, feeling you, touching you, reading you, pleasing you. 
When he finally slips inside, the moan that sings from you is better than he remembers. Sweeter than the one he thought of last night while he laid in bed alone, and more sugary than the one he thought of the day before while he lazied in the very same spot, sans toi.
He rolls his hips into yours, letting his consciousness absorb you entirely. From the way your walls hug him, his cock sliding in and out of the greatest life force he’s ever known, all the way to how your palms wrap around his caging forearms, tethering yourself to him in such an intimate way. He watches you, taking in every detail, every lash that flutters, every waver of your lip, every set in your jaw as you hum out the most beautiful melody for him, he notices it all.
It’s not long before your tethered hands shift to an anchoring hold, pulling him closer to you. Just the same, your hummed melody turns into a pleading cry, strumming every single one of his heart strings. 
You want it faster and Eddie’s never been known to tell you no.
Everything he does is for you, he’d be crazy to deny you of any luxury, he wants you to have it all. The luxury right now is one you’re deserving of, so he moves his hips quicker, picking up speed, doing everything just how he knows you like it. 
He missed you and he’s showing you by using his attentiveness to his advantage. Every sound you make a cue to another action that triggers your next mewl, he operates strategically with his heart guiding him along the way. 
He fights off his own release with vigor, this is for you. But when he feels your walls clamping around him, milking his cock for everything he has he can’t help the way he spasms, the way his body takes over, jolting, abs constricting.
You beg for him, beg to feel it inside, feel him fill you up, and once again, anything you want is yours. Everything Eddie is, everything he has, it’s all yours. 
Cheek meeting your chest, he turns to press a kiss to your sweltering skin. Your fingers card through his hair and he’d pray to every being in the world to stay like this forever, to be with you forever.
While he knows he’ll fall victim to reality from time to time again, Eddie is a dreamer who never wants to be without you again.
Toujours avec toi.
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹
534 notes · View notes
robot-thighs · 2 years ago
Text
hello maccadams fans,
so! i kept stumbling across mentions of the short story "Bullets" on tfwiki, because it had important lore about Kimia and some characters who would later appear in MTMTE. but because it was an exclusive that was only published in the TPB for "Last Stand of the Wreckers," not many people have probably read it. it's a prequel story to LSOTW and DOES contain some spoilers if you haven't read that series, but it's also interesting how much jro is obviously setting up for MTMTE, even tho this was written about 2 years before MTMTE started coming out. pretty sure this is the first canonical appearance of Rung.
anyway, because this was so hard to track down, I took the time to find a scan of the LSOTW trade paperback and used an ocr scanner to transcribe it so that I could share it and make it more accessible. I've only ever found a few transcriptions of the first chapter, but not the whole thing. it's very interestingly written, and also contains some interesting criticism of Furmanisms. I highly recommend anyone who is a fan of MTMTE/LL or LSOTW give it a read. The ending still has me shook.
Disclaimer: I didn't change the writing at all, but i did omit a couple very obvious typos that were printed in the TPB, and I fixed some of the formatting issues where chapter breaks were missing or put in the wrong place. otherwise, this writing is completely unaltered. Also, I did read this over like 3 separate times as I was working to transcribe and format it, but because ocr scans can be unpredictable, it's very possible I missed a few minor things.
Anyway please read and enjoy!
-day
edit: fixed the title for the link
605 notes · View notes
Text
You are Morgan Yu. No, you’re not Morgan Yu. You were Morgan Yu. No, you were something else.
The face in your memory—a man. The face in our mirror—a woman? No, you were a woman. You were many shadowy faces distorted in the polished gold of the railings.
You are Morgan Yu.
I am Morgan Yu.
“…and after that, it was over. No one could stop the Typhon. It spread all over earth. So I took my escape pod…”
Alex’s voice drumming in your head. Morgan’s head. It drummed endless hours through a transcribe.
Typhon.
Alex had made you. Alex had resurrected you. Alex created you.
Alex had killed us from the beginning.
No. You shake your head. You are not Morgan Yu. You don’t know what memories are real.
“Morgan?” You look up. You haven’t quite gotten your tongue to form real words yet. Morgan would’ve spoken more. I wanted to speak more. Alex sighed. “I guess it’s a lot to take in. You should get some rest, Morgan.”
He gestures at you, his voice directed towards the operators—your friends. Voices you thought you knew. Drumming again, directed away and bouncing back. “Take it back to its cell for tonight. I don’t want to risk anything reverting overnight.”
You could kill them. You know that. You did it a lot, before.
But you are Morgan Yu. Alex Yu is your brother. Alex Yu watched over you and worked with you.
Your bedroom. Where are you? Your bedroom.
Your voice is speaking to you. You don’t know the words. You don’t know the speaker.
Your bedroom?
You’ve been Morgan Yu. You’ve been a thousand Morgan Yu’s.
Are you Morgan Yu?
We are reading again. The logs of the destruction of Talos. I don’t remember it this way.
“Remember that, Morgan? You gave us the greatest idea that year. Boosted Neuromod reviews in days. Mom and Dad would be proud.”
The escape pods. They didn’t work. They were built that way.
Mikhalia.
Mikhalia.
I said it aloud. It rasped from my lips, scraping my throat on the way out.
“Mikhalia?” Alex. “She’s the operator now, Morgan.” His voice, smooth and condescending.
She was, though, wasn’t she?
You squeeze your arm. We can feel pain. I feel a trembling energy underneath.
“Do you remember her from Morgan’s memories?”
You were Morgan Yu?
Morgan would nod.
Morgan nodded.
“Interesting. You saved her, and then let everyone die instead of letting anyone escape.”
The echo of straps across your wrists and ankles tugs at you.
“You’ve always loved her too much, I thought. Either I was wrong, or you still have too much Typhon left in you.”
Phantoms inhabited bodies of human dead. Human dead did not inhabit phantoms.
Your inky hands scrape into the metal holding you. Where are we? Where is Morgan? I am Morgan!
Mimics. Alex kept several in secure locations, continuing his research. He tells you about them. He tells Morgan about them. The deep purple tissue of the Mimics feels familiar. Familiar from a thousand lifetimes—and familiar from you.
There is a room tonight. Alex locks it from the outside. You’re still at risk of being a monster. Right?
You are Morgan Yu.
Who is Morgan Yu?
A man tells you to destroy it—destroy it all. You won’t like it, it erases your family’s legacy and you will probably have to die too. But it’s the only thing that’s safe.
She says it too. The woman.
The woman?
Something courses through you. Every vein, every neuron, every spin of every atom is alive. It stings it roars it slows the world to a stop.
And everything is at your hand.
Another day, Morgan Yu. Today, tests. “They’re an essential part of an experiment. Just like you did, Morgan. I know you don’t remember—you didn’t remember in the memories either—but you were so committed to those neuromod tests. No one could stop you.”
Alex’s voice rings into our head.
Morgan did the tests. We will do them again now.
The face in the mirror. Broken and dappled in blood, a sliver of silver shone through. The eyes fester with Typhon sinews. You are Morgan Yu.
The failure of a screen. Alex once shut a screen against Morgan, didn’t he? And outside, everything was golden.
Blood streaks the floor. Your leg is split open, your alien flesh bursting out. Alex’s voice throbs at the back of your head as you stumble. A memory, too many memories.
I am Morgan Yu.
221 notes · View notes
infernalodie · 2 years ago
Text
𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 || 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐳
“𝘖𝘩, 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦“
Inspo: Ruel - END SCENE
Pairing: Maddy Perez x Perez!Male!reader x Cassie Howard
Summary: The two of you watched it fall apart, yet one of you couldn’t stay for long...
Tumblr media
Warnings: Angst and character death
Words: 1836
DNI IF YOU’RE YOUNGER THAN 18!
From the day you were born, you and Maddy were joined at the hip. There wasn’t a day that went by that neither of you was separated from one other. So many experiences the two of you shared had made the inseparability strong. The two of you saw destruction with your friends take place and you were there through the traumatizing experience Maddy experienced with Nate. Promising her that if things were going downhill from there, the two of you would be by one another's side. The two of you would just watch the world fall apart around you and enjoy every second of it until your guys’ last breaths.
And you? What was your traumatizing experience? Well, you had your heart shattered when finding out your girlfriend was hooking up with Nate behind your back. Not even sparing you by ending things before doing so. You didn’t know if it was the fear of what might happen. But you did know that her doing so made your mind fracture. Morals you held high now seemed to dim with you trying to understand how things turned out the way they did.
Why did she cheat? Was it you? Did you not give enough?
All these questions with not so little as an answer for any of them.
But maybe you should’ve understood and expected the worse when things first started. Because they were great for a time, but McKay did warn you of the troubles. Of the possibility of things turning out different from what you may have expected. But being lovestruck, you dismissed them.
And it ended up with you drinking a fifth bottle of Rum. Hoping that the recent events that had transcribed with you and your ex may be forgotten. Maybe you could be happy. Maybe you could just lose your mind a little and be plunged into the warmth of darkness.
It didn’t seem fair in the grander scheme of things. You had to stand there, watching the foundation the two of you built come crumbling to the ground. Levels of the structure being core memories you had of the blonde that had solidified your love for her. And now, it was rubble surrounding your fractured existence in a world that didn’t seem real to you at this point.
Maddy had to stand on the outside and watch what was left of her brother, you, slowly crack and fade. The closure you maybe expected in return for Cassie’s harsh breakup was dismissed with weed and alcohol. She watched you run. Try and escape the pain that reality had placed in your path. And it scared the shit out of her seeing you so broken. So incomplete without Cassie.
But she thought bringing you to this party might allow you to reconnect with people. Hoping that an attempt to heal might be made. She was sadly mistaken. She should’ve known that when she remembered that most parties involved the addition of alcohol. Leaving her to submit to her mistake and try and take care of your drunken state that could barely stand up on its own.
She was scared. Fearful of how long you were going to put yourself through this.
You had managed to get away from your sister. Sitting on the edge of the couch and smoking some dude’s joint that he offered. But your gaze and mind were set on Cassie, who coincidentally was standing in the kitchen with Lexi. And you should’ve stayed sat down. Kept your mouth shut and enjoy this feeling of freedom for a little longer. But the growing knowledge of the fact that she was here built until you couldn’t handle it. Standing on your two untrustworthy legs and stumbling toward the kitchen.
And when you entered, even with the pounding music, it seemed everyone around you quietened down. Not out of some romanticizing way that all these kids try to describe. But like a bad joke in a bar. An awkwardness that was physically painful to be succumbed to. That’s what you got when you entered the kitchen to grab a drink. Feeling the gaze from the sister’s eyes as you poured the Rum into a red solo cup.
Things weren’t supposed to be like this.
Glancing over your shoulder, you found that Lexi had slipped away. Cassie is left to stare down at her feet and sip from her cup. Not daring to make eye contact with you for whatever she may be feeling. Either out of respect or fear of what you might do or say if she says anything or looks at you.
“Night been good?” Your question shook her from her forced gaze. Lifting it for a moment to find you facing her now, a tired look on your face. Circles under your eyes with a casual and slow flow to what you did. If it was blinking, licking your lips, or taking a sip of your drink.
Cassie exhaled heavily. “As much as I like parties, this one is not my taste,” she said, flashing a tiny smile. One that you missed. “Hard to feel welcomed or relaxed when almost everyone hates me.”
You sighed, shrugging as you glanced around. “Yea’, that’s part of it. But half of these people aren’t even going to remember you or me when we all go on with our lives.” You hiccuped, running a hand through your hair. “We will all just be ghosts that won't be thought upon in ten years.”
Something about that made Cassie purse her lips. Tilting her head slightly to stare at you softly with a concerned look taking its place on her face.
No matter the time that may pass, you knew you belonged to her. To the time she made for you. To the way she saw you. Or to how she saw the world. Maybe it was still the pain that made you think this. But you knew that when you tried to place a different girl in her place, you could only see her in their place. Leaving you to pick apart the imperfections of the girl compared to Cassie. And it always left you in a shittier situation.
“Please, Cassie,” you drunkenly pleaded. It was a weak murmur. A pitiful one. Maybe it was the fear that you had for anyone to see you like this. But this was the girl of your dreams you were thinking about- Who was standing in front of you! You couldn’t act like none of this didn’t hurt you. “I need you. We can forget what happened. You are the only thing that makes me care about this life.”
Cassie, being sober and clearly worried about your state, sadly shook her head. “Y/n, we can’t. I’m with Nate now,” she told you. “And I can’t act like I didn’t hurt you. I’m saving you from getting together with me.”
You shook your head, hands grasping hers desperately. “I can’t do this without you-”
“Get your hands off her, Y/n!” Nate appeared, shoving you back, making you stumble back. “Get the fuck out of here before I kick your head in.”
“Fuck off, Nate,” you spat, wiping your eyes. “You being here ruined my relationship. I deserve to talk to her if you decided to take everything away from me.”
“You clearly weren’t giving enough to her, Y/n,” he said. “So, grow the fuck up and move on.”
His words were harsh and a painful reality check. Even through the drunken, wobbling haze resting over your senses, you understood and agreed to a certain extent. But it didn’t alleviate the pain in your chest, unable to restrain the shaky weep that sounded from your trembling lips.
And in an extension of that, you couldn’t stop yourself from shoving Nate back. Having enough strength that moved him back a few steps. “You are a fucking joke, Nate!” You spat. “You put a gun to my sister’s head! You blackmail people to get what you want-”
“Y/n, I suggest shutting up-”
But you interjected the warning. “Or what? Hmm? You gonna beat the shit out of me, Nate?” You barked. “I bet your father would be really proud of you-”
And no one was able to react in time when Nate punched you across the face. The pure strength knocked you on your ass, bashing your head off something in the process.
“What the fuck, Nate?” Maddy exclaimed, running to your aid. Kneeling down and holding your face that twisted and turned in agony. Looking up at her ex and yelling, “You are a real fucking piece of shit Nate, you know that? He’s too fucking drunk to even defend himself!”
“I told him to stop, Maddy. He’s too drunk to even fuckin’ listen!” The boy defended. “Keep your brother in check or I’ll fully beat his ass- What the fuck?”
Maddy frowned upon seeing Nate’s eyes flicker to you. But when she looked down, she saw you start to seize. Body shaking violently, eyes rolled to the back of your head. A pool of blood begins to build around the back of your head making everyone start to freak out.
“No. No, no, no. Y/n? Hey, Y/n! Wake up- Wake up, Y/n!” Maddy’s trembling body managed to pull yours onto her lap. Whimpers that had fallen from her lips were now evolving to uncontrolled sobs as foam pooled from the corners of your mouth. “Hey, hey, hey! You’re alright! You’re gonna be fine!” She wiped desperately, hoping you might come back to reality.
“Maddy, is there anything-” Cassie, who was just as worried as Maddy, tried to speak up. But when she looked down at you, she found you still. Far too still. At that point people
But her words were halted when she received a glare that sent a chill down her spine. The complete hatred and wrath that sat in front of her eyes scared her. “Yeah.” Maddy pulled your lifeless figure into her chest, inhaling your scent. “Save everyone the trouble and go fucking kill yourself, Cass.”
Cassie stared at her friend, unable to hide the tears and hurt that she felt. She should allow to hold you just like Maddy was. She should be allowed to mourn you. But from the way Maddy held you so protectively, so desperately, she wasn’t given the privilege.
As everyone filtered out of the house, Maddy still stayed sat on that dirty kitchen floor. Legs feeling the warm touch of your blood with her thumbs stroking over your cheeks. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she stared softly down at your lifeless features. The hollowness in your eyes. She used to wonder what rested beyond them.
She guessed she would have to continue to speculate…
Her hand softly held your face, smiling brokenly down at you. A harsh stutter of a inhale racked her chest. Her warm breath fanning your cold features. “We were supposed to lose our minds together.”
446 notes · View notes
thequeenofsastiel · 5 months ago
Text
Rewatching season 1 and I'm STILL furious that they not only had Lestat almost kill Louis, but they ruined their first flight together. For those who haven't read the books, it's at the end of Queen of the Damned. Lestat had only just acquired the power, and had never flown of his own power before. He chose to have his first flight with Louis. I'll transcribe it, for those who want to read it:
I kissed him suddenly, thrilled by the warmth of him, the soft pliant feel of his near human skin. God, how I hated the whiteness of my fingers touching him, fingers that could have crushed him now effortlessly. I wondered if he even guessed.
There was so much I wanted to say to him, to ask him. Yet I couldn't find the words really, or a way to begin. He had always had so many questions; and now he had his answers, more answers perhaps than he could have ever wanted; and what had this done to his soul? Stupidly I stared at him. How perfect he seemed to me as he stood there waiting with such kindness and such patience. And then, like a fool, I came out with it.
"Do you love me now?" I asked.
He smiled; oh, it was excruciating to see his face soften and brighten simultaneously when he smiled. "Yes," he said.
"Want to go on a little adventure?" My heart was thudding suddenly. It would be so grand if--"Want to break the new rules?"
"What in the world do you mean?" he whispered.
I started laughing, in a low feverish fashion; it felt so good. Laughing and watching the subtle little changes in his face. I really had him worried now. And the truth was, I didn't know if I could do it. Without her. What if I plunged like Icarus--?
"Oh, come now, Louis," I said. "Just a little adventure. I promise, I have no designs this time on Western civilization, or even on the attentions of two million rock music fans. I was thinking of something small, really. Something, well, a little mischievous. And rather elegant. I mean, I've been awfully good for the last two months, don't you think?"
"What on Earth are you talking about?"
"Are you with me or not?"
He gave another little shake of his head again. But it wasn't a No. He was pondering. He ran his fingers back through his hair. Such fine black hair. The first thing I'd ever noticed about him--well, after his green eyes, that is--was his black hair. No, all that's a lie. It was his expression; the passion and the innocence and the delicacy of conscience. I just loved it!
"When does this little adventure begin?"
"Now," I said. "You have four seconds to make up your mind."
"Lestat, it's almost dawn."
"It's almost dawn here," I answered.
"What do you mean?"
"Louis, put yourself in my hands. Look, if I can't pull it off, you won't really be hurt. Well, not that much. Game? Make up your mind, I want to be off now."
He didn't say anything. He was looking at me, and so affectionately that I could hardly stand it.
"Yes or no."
"I'm probably going to regret this, but...."
"Agreed then." I reached out and placed my hands firmly on his arms and I lifted him high off his feet. He was flabbergasted, looking down at me. It was as if he weighed nothing. I set him down.
"Mon dieu," he whispered.
Well, what was I waiting for? If I didn't try it, I'd never find out. There came a dark, dull moment of pain again; of remembering her; of us rising together. I let it slowly slip away.
I swung my arm around his waist. Upwards now. I lifted my right hand, but that wasn't even necessary. We were climbing on the wind that fast.
The cemetery was spinning down there, a tiny sprawling toy of itself with little bits of white scattered all over under the dark trees.
I could hear his astonished gasp in my ear.
"Lestat!"
"Put your arm around my neck," I said. "Hold on tight. We're going west, of course, and then north, and we're going a very long distance, and maybe we'll drift for a while. The sun won't set where we're going for some time."
The wind was ice cold. I should have thought of that, that he'd suffer from it; but he gave no sign. He was merely gazing upwards as we pierced the great snowy mist of the clouds.
When he saw the stars, I felt him tense against me; his face was perfectly smooth and serene; and if he was weeping the wind was carrying it away. Whatever fear he'd felt was gone now, utterly; he was lost as he looked upward; as the dome of heaven came down around us, and the moon shone full on the endless thickening plain of whiteness below.
No need to tell him what to observe, or what to remember. He always knew such things. Years ago, when I'd done the dark magic on him, I hadn't had to tell him anything; he had savored the smallest aspects of it all on his own. And later he'd said I'd failed to guide him. Didn't he know how unnecessary that had always been?
But I was drifting now, mentally and physically; feeling him a snug yet weightless thing against me; just the pure presence of Louis, Louis belonging to me, and with me. And no burden at all.
That's one of my favorite scenes in the whole series, and I just wanted to share it. I hope y'all got as much enjoyment out of it as I did.
47 notes · View notes
literary-illuminati · 9 months ago
Text
2024 Book Review #9 – The Devourers by Indra Das
Tumblr media
I was recommended this as an example of a contemporary work where werewolves are actually treated as monstrous and horrifying instead of either romance fodder or one interchangeable variety of supernatural in an urban fantasy kitchen sink. In one sense that was a blatant lie (the monsters are only werewolves in the vaguest sense), but in another one I care about much more it fit the bill perfectly. Funnily enough it basically is a romance (or at least, the overarching framing narrative is), but for once I’m not complaining about that. Excellent read, though does require a bit of a strong stomach.
The framing narrative follows Alok, a history professor in Kolkata whose approached by a mysterious stranger at a festival. The stranger identifies himself as a half-werewolf, an immortal man-eating shapechanger. In between being mysterious and menacing and flirting with Alok, he hires him to transcribe and digitize two historical werewolf manuscripts – journals etched into parchment made from human skin. Those journals are the meat of the narrative, and it rapidly becomes clear they are written by the stranger’s parents; first the ancient norse werewolf who had wandered all the way to the banks of the Yamuna, then the human woman he fell into something like love with and raped as she travels alongside one of his former packmates and hunts him down.
The framing device is the emotional heart of this, and incredibly well interwoven with the manuscript sections. It’s fundamentally a romance, though one somewhat interestingly devoid of real conflict or plot (well, from Alok’s perspective. There’s a whole emotional journey with him going from ‘future food’ to ‘romantic partner’, he just only gets small glimpses of it). There’s I think one real argument or point of conflict between the two of them across the entire book? And maybe one or two points besides that where Alok or their relationship encounters genuine difficulty or danger. Despite that, and despite (or perhaps because of) the ambiguous ending, it all just very much worked for me.
It’s also interesting – and the book does really call this out – that the whole plot is essentially arbitrary. The inciting incident is just a werewolf being angsty and lonesome, and the entire story and all its stakes are strictly interpersonal with nary an epochal revelation or looming existential doom to be seen. It is a sign of how much of my reading diet is genre fiction that this felt like a massive breath of fresh air, I think.
Speaking of love – the book is deeply and intensely preoccupied with the closeness of and overlaps between love and sex and pain and violation and consumption and death. Werewolves consume souls and memories as well as flesh, knowing and even becoming (for a time) those they hunt. This extends to each other as well – regeneration means mating and fighting to the death is an impossibly thin an frequently crossed line, and intimacy and memories are shared by literally allowing someone to take a bit out of you. Izrail kills and consumes both his mother and his father, and this is the only way he ever truly knows either of them. Both he and his father have fallen in love with whole strings of humans across the ages, and each been the ruin of all but one of them. This extends into the use of language as well – I didn’t take notes as I read, but the example that sticks in my mind was the description of one werewolf pressing a mush of chewed flesh into the mouth of another so he might heal as being ‘like a gentle kiss’.
It is just an intensely gory book in general, really. Or not even gory so much as carnal, in the older broader sense. There’s blood and viscera and sweat and sex and piss and shit and tallow made from human fat and game animals eaten bloody and raw. All of it seamlessly intermixed in one richly detailed and incredibly pungent sensory world the book conjures up for you.. This is taken to an extreme whenever the primordial god-monsters that are a shapeshifter’s second soul appears on screen, but even beyond that – like when I say you need a bit of strong stomach to enjoy the book, I really don’t’ just mean in terms of violence.
This ties in a bit with the lack of grand, world-shaking stakes I mentioned but – the book makes excellent use of its period piece sections to really sell this feeling of the weight of history and of being caught up in the wake of events larger than you can perceive. The 17th century sections really nail the sense of the past as its own living, breathing world full of richness and contradictions, rather than just a slate for the present’s psychodrama. Also it’s possibly the first book I’ve ever read which really mentioned the surprisingly widespread and violent history of werewolf hunts in Europe, which I appreciated.
The shapeshifters (werewolves, rakshassa, djinn, ghuls) themselves are absolutely great. Horrifying and disgusting and sublime, with exactly as much detail given as the story needs without succumbing to rpg splatbook syndrome. The idea of werewolves as things which are deliberately created through a(n incredibly violent and traumatizing) ritual process is one I don’t think I’ve seen before? It works here, anyway – though instead of a hereditary curse or contagious infection, it leaves shapeshifters feeling like one of those elite, elevated fraternities who put new inductees through a hell of physical, social and sexual violence for hazing and indoctrination purposes (the usual modern versions being military units, sports teams, and just actual fraternities). Which ties into all those themes of the fine line between love and violence, I suppose.
Or well, not technically fraternity – werewolves are all functionally genderfuild (can take a big nap and wake up looking like whoever they ate last) and while their second selves can fuck I’m not sure either human genders or, like, genital arrangements apply to them. But 3/4 of the werewolves who get any lines are one caricature or another of masculinity and this absolutely informs how the condition and culture are presented. So like, I’ll just go with it.
Anyway, great book! And ‘abuse regeneration by sewing dozens upon dozens of bones and trophies taken from prey into your skin’ is a great look for a werewolf’s human form.
77 notes · View notes