#which might add to the disconnect I felt sometimes from the other two games

[g0nta-g0kuhara]

I was just gonna put this in the tags of the last reblog, but it got a bit away from me. For context, the original post was talking about Shuichi, Kaede, and Kiibo as protags and how Shuichi and Kaede didn't fit into the same role as protags as Hajime or Makoto did. Their character conflicts are more like those of ultimate side characters from previous games rather than a fish out of water everyman like Hajime, Makoto, or Kiibo. Now on to my ramble:

I think that it's extremely cool we get to play as "side characters" in V3. I think it was a really nice change of pace. Makoto and Hajime are fun, but small fish in a big pond type protags who neutrally engage with almost everyone have a kind of personality that hinders their role as characters in the story, and kind of weakens the story through their eyes as a whole. I Get the narrative purpose, especially for THH. It makes it easier to introduce the rules of the world to someone less fully consumed by it, and accentuates the weirdness of all the other ultimates in comparison.

But honestly, I found that Shuichi and Kaede being ultimates with stronger opinions and biases to the world around them gave them much more satisfying arcs, personally. They form specific bonds with many of the other characters, both good and bad ones, and those specific bonds influence their arcs and the plot as a whole.

The downside of a protag like this is that unfortunately, it means not all characters are going to feel equally close to the protag, since the narrative is now focusing on certain characters especially as their friends or enemies. This can feel a bit weird if you, the player, don't end up liking said friends, or really adore their enemies. It could also be argued that this could give certain characters an unfairly lesser role in the story as a whole, but I didn't really feel like that was the case in V3.

The upside of a protag like this for a game series like DR is that often times, I feel like when almost all characters get an equal spotlight in interacting with the protag, they can end up feeling a little flat or ironically distant. Their relationship and character status quo can't be changed too much lest the protag have complicated or different feelings about them, which might divorce our player stand-in from the player themselves who likes said character. And you also can't let one character become much closer than the other, lessening the bond you the player might have with a different character.

Major exceptions to this are characters like Kyoko and Nagito. They get a lot of focus, have a complicated arc, and their relationship with their respective protags is pretty in depth and round. But that's just one special character in each game out of 15 others.

There's only a few other characters that stand out to me as exceptions to this- like Byakuya, or Fuyuhiko. But for them, their character arcs feel to me more like they happen Around the protag than with them. This might be due to the relatable protag's role as a neutral observer, existing to accentuate the weirdness of the others and act as the player's stand in to interact with these characters.

This isn't to say Makoto and Hajime Don't have arcs or Aren't good characters- that's not true at all!! Actually, Hajime's character arc is one of the best and most poignant in the series. And in his case, his normalness is an important part of that. But in general, I feel like in DR, a protag whose main role isn't to act as the player stand in, but rather as a character in the story with distinct alliances, creates a more interesting space for stronger characters that impact the plot as a whole.

[tenacityreturns]

aokaga fic alert! 

plot: kagami and aomine have their first important rematch since they started dating. sure, he’d been looking forward to this for ages, but there’s something keeping kagami from fully devoting himself to the game. it’s a block that’s costing seirin points. will he be able to get over it before halftime ends? word count: 3020 rating: sfw, but maybe there’s a cheeky kiss since this was originally from a five times kissed prompt until it got too long

second quarter. benched. two fouls ( including one against aomine ). legs are starting to hurt. seething. kagami watches the score board with his lip in his teeth. touou increase the point gap, but not by much. aomine’s hanging back, not playing to his best. isn’t that good? isn’t that a good thing that he’s not running seirin into the ground? he could if he wanted to. no... no, it only pisses kagami off even more. aomine doesn’t respect seirin enough. he’s going easy on them in case he upsets kagami. the bastard! it’s too late for that. his teammates must know that aomine’s holding back, and they must also know it’s because of kagami. nobody knows they’re dating, at least, kagami doesn’t think they do, but it’s clear that touou’s ace is only interested in battling seirin’s in a one-on-one.

    the zone feels so far off. is this what kise was talking about? once you love someone, you don’t want--- no, you physically cannot give your all. even against aomine, whom kagami has plenty of experience maxing out his stamina, there’s something blocking him. he hadn’t even worked up much of a sweat before he was benched. kagami wants to win. seirin want to win. but he can’t enter the zone. why can’t he? doesn’t he want to? things only got interesting with aomine after he lost! his leg starts bouncing. kagami needs to get back out there. this is really fucking pissing him off! he doesn’t get what’s wrong with him, either! damn. he knew he was nervous before this match, but didn’t realise it would stop him from playing properly!

    the seconds tick by. nearly half-time. what will aomine do with the moments ahead?

    hyuuga scores a three, it’s nice. his teammates on the bench cheer, but kagami’s watching aomine. glaring. seething, truly. he should have stopped it. 

     aomine looks over. 

     concentrate on the game, you bastard! 

     kagami watches the grimace form across dark features. kuroko passes the ball to izuki, who looks like he’s clear to get to maybe the three point line, and pass to hyuuga who’s open. kagami glances at the time and when he returns to the spot touou’s number 5 had been, he’s not there. izuki’s motionless for a whole second, staring in horror at aomine as he’s flying towards his target. he’d just-- appeared. kagami hadn’t even seen it. how fast had aomine been to not only get to izuki, but to steal before he’d had a chance to defend himself? the upperclassmen turn on their heels and go after him, but there’s no shame in defence’s inability to stop one of aomine’s formless shots. damn. that’s so cool. aomine’s so good at going from flat out sprint to complete stop. not even a falter. jeez. he’s walking towards his team’s bench before the buzzer goes, but there was nothing seirin could do. fifteen points behind.

    he had to talk to him. had to. maybe aomine’s own bad mood would snap kagami out of his. they loved playing against each other! this is really off! so he pulls on his sweater and walks on over, saying nothing to his own team before leaving. kagami’s not thinking about whether or not there are any rules against talking to his opponents. aomine’s back is turned, but momoi’s surprised kagamin? is enough to turn all heads. aomine’s own shock doesn’t go unnoticed. how could he think kagami didn’t want to talk it out right now?

    “can i see you outside?” kagami doesn’t like being over here. it feels weird, he can feel a lot of eyes on him, and this can’t be allowed for how close this feels to trespassing. “sorry,” he adds impulsively.

   aomine, the only person kagami can bear to look at right now, blinks uselessly. it’s momoi who speaks first. thank god she does; kagami had been milliseconds from stomping away in embarrassment.

    “we’d like him back a few minutes before we begin,” she pushes him forwards, kickstarting aomine to move by himself. momoi knows about them. she must know about them. aomine pulls on his jacket and the two leave. kagami’s going to get so told off when he gets back. majorly told off. ah, so what? what can they do, bench him?

    “i thought we talked about this,” aomine says gravely as they continue down the corridor, “we’re gonna go all out.”

    “that’s just what i could say to you!” kagami’s quick to raise his voice, but he has to separate in-game tension with out-of-game tension. he exhales. “you’re holding back.”

    “you’re benched, what the hell is the point?”

    “that’s my team you’re talking about!”

    aomine sighs. “did you call me out here just to blow off steam? save that for the game. now, back to the point, why are you holding back?”

    “i’m not---”

    “yes, you were.”

    they stop walking. no one is around but this is still just a hallway not very far from the locker-rooms. kagami’s indignant and he’s mad. “you’re holding back! that last point was the first time you even tried!”

    “like i said, taiga, you’re benched. you want me to demolish your teammates?”

    “respect them, at least!”

    “---- are you mad at me?”

    “yes!”

    “for what?”

    “holding back!”

    “stop saying that! you’re being an idiot right now,” aomine growls, “you backed out of a one-on-one earlier. you just passed. why didn’t you challenge me?”

    kagami falters. had he done that? oh. yeah. earlier in the last quarter, he can picture it now. they’re face-to-face: aomine’s radiating intensity. every twitching muscle is under his gaze. he knows kagami, knows what he likes to do. but instead of rising to the challenge, kagami hesitates, and passes. aomine doesn’t try to steal it, either. he stands there looking disappointed. that was the first moment that kagami felt the pent-up tightness in his chest. it cascades as all anxiety does within him into anger and then he starts getting fouls. coach said he isn’t thinking clearly. she’s right.

    “we said it doesn’t matter who wins. or didn’t you mean that?”

    oh. fuck. kagami’s hand reaches up to where the ring on his neck usually sits, and in that moment, his worries become so much clearer. he’d thought that he’d been able to disconnect aomine his boyfriend, and aomine his rival. he was right, after all, kagami’s certain that he’ll still love aomine if touou wins today. it will suck, but as long as they’ve both gone all out, there’s nothing more to be said than that he needs to get stronger. but he hadn’t thought the fear through. he hadn’t even considered that he might be worried aomine would stop loving him if he lost. people have a habit of saying one thing, but when kagami beats them, it’s all over. it’s happened before. aomine’s searching for answers in kagami’s face, but this is hard to say. of all people he could be speaking to, perhaps aomine is one who understands this best.

    “do you want to win today?” kagami asks quietly.

    “of course i do.”

    “what if you lost?”

    “that’s not gonna happen.”

     “daiki.”

     “fine, it’d be shit,” he shrugs, “but nothing would change.”

    “nothing?”

    “can’t you just say what’s bothering you? we don’t have a lot of time here.”

    kagami huffs. “maybe i can’t enter the zone ‘cuz i keep thinking you won’t like me when i win.” when. that’s already a step in the right direction. “i know what you said, but i’ve heard it before.”

    it’s aomine’s turn to fall silent. he looks away with a worrisome frown. what’s he thinking about? is he offended that kagami doesn’t believe him? he’s sorry! it’s such a stupid kind of insecurity! it’s not that he doesn’t want to play against him! ugh. this is the worst. who knew dating rivals would be this hard?

    “maybe i lied earlier,” aomine finally says. “i think i want you guys to win. or-- to get close.”

    kagami inhales, about to yell, furious that this means aomine’s going to hold back----

    “my body didn’t recover for days last time. i was exhausted.”

    shouting contest averted. huh? kagami feels like he’s one step behind.

    “i went all out and lost. my best wasn’t good enough back then. but the point was, i could actually try.”

    “yeah,” kagami lowers his eyes, hand once again reaching for the necklace which isn’t sitting at his collarbone.

    “and seeing you going up against akashi like that-- you, tetsu, the rest of your team. it was something else. so you better show that to me today or i’ll be pissed.”

    “you’re not gonna hold back?”

    “no. i don’t get anything outta that, don’t you get it? i wanna beat the team that beat rakuzan.”

    “yeah?” kagami’s ego is off the charts right now-- or is it his self-esteem? he’s not feeling big-headed by these statements, it’s more like someone he respects so highly in basketball is reaffirming his own talent in it and it’s amazing. it’s so cool. aomine’s so cool. his mood is immediately alleviated and he’s almost forgotten the fog that stopped him from playing only minutes ago.

    “we’re gonna win, though,” aomine smirks. “we’re not the same guys as last time.”

    “no,” kagami’s turn to smirk ( and it’s the first positive expression in ages ), “i heard you’ve actually been to practise once or twice since then.”

    “shut up. i’m gonna wipe that dumb look off your face.”

    they’re close. it’s totally normal that these two rivals would be standing inches apart, so kagami doesn’t move away. scarlet eyes, narrowing with a happy smile, dance his gaze across aomine’s face. 

     kagami thinks about all the times before they got together that they could easily have been fighting if they’d been this close. not recently. recently, kagami’s been able to just kiss him if they’re at home! picture that. kagami wanting to kiss someone, and that particular someone being the coolest idiot he knows! and aomine daiki wanting to kiss him! sometimes, kagami wouldn’t even have said anything to drastically improve the mood, and aomine would kiss him out of the blue! it’s too much to think about that and not be able to do so right now. can’t he kiss him? of all the times, maybe mid-game is the worst. it would be distracting, right? but it’s instinctual. now’s a good moment for it. the perfect moment to do it. they’re outside, though. in the open. with a huff of annoyance ( what a bother to have to relocate! ), kagami makes his decision.

    aomine can sense something is about to happen, and opens his mouth to speak, but he’s too slow. kagami takes his wrist and pulls him back towards the court. there's a janitor's closet nearby. kagami's pretty sure he saw it on the way over, and he can definitely smell bleach on the air.

    "taiga," aomine slips his wrist free, but keeps pace. yeah, maybe that's wise. keep the touching for when they’re alone. "is that it? I've knocked some sense back into you already?"

    "just follow me, alright? it's around here somewhere."

    "what is?" it's Aomine's turn to look as though he's two steps behind of the situation. kagami's still smiling, but there's determination in his eyes that he'll carry to the court. aha! here it is! and it's unlocked!

    "oh, great," aomine is totally confused and looks so funny as kagami pushes him inside. "you gonna lock me in here to guarantee your win, bakagami?” is he that oblivious? kagami pulls the door shut. "well?"

    "well?" kagami repeats incredulously. he has to laugh. "and you call me an idiot!" but he won't leave aomine guessing for long ( because he doesn't want to ). he wraps his arms around his boyfriend in a hug, but it's partly to find him in the dark.

    "we could've done this outside, dummy,"

    “shut up,” despite his words, kagami came in here to do something, and he knows if he gets caught up in aomine’s games then he’ll miss his chance! and who knows what they’ll do after the match. so it’s now, or tomorrow, and with this kind of thing, he’ll always choose now.

    a hand comes up to hold aomine's jaw. the wise cracks stop. arms raise around kagami's middle to return the hug, and now they're kissing. now, hands roam where they couldn’t before. now, as ever, something stirs in his chest and his gut and if he isn’t careful, kagami won’t want to leave. they couldn't have done this outside. even straight couples would be told this kind of display should be reserved for private spaces. they’re chest-to-chest, kagami’s back against the door. aomine always knows what to do.

    "daiki," kagami whispers after a minute ( or was it two? three? ), "we should go back."

    "you started it,"

    "it’s not my fault!”

    “i’m just that irresistible, huh?”

    yes, actually. kind of. ugh! it’s enough to make kagami pull away, but the hands around his waist hold fast. the moment is over. whether aomine knew that being annoying was enough to snap kagami out of it is up to anyone’s guess. “come on, ahomine, we gotta get back.”

    “are you gonna trust me now?”

    kagami’s first reaction is to scoff, but aomine’s eyes are serious. kagami wants to say that it wasn’t an issue of trust, it’s just that he has a scar on his heart from when people he loves leave him. but maybe that is trust. aomine hasn’t earnt it yet. the results of this game will show both of their true colours. but he can’t word any of this right now, so he’ll nod. for now, he trusts aomine not to abandon him too. right?

    “ah, babe,” aomine drops his hands, “you’re such a bad liar.”

    kagami frowns, lowering his gaze. he can’t fight that. maybe it had been a lie? he takes a grounding breath. in through his nose, out through his mouth. it wasn’t. he trusts aomine. and if kagami gets hurt again, he’ll just have to know that there was nothing he could do about it. but it’s the same for aomine too, isn’t it? he’s used to people leaving him because he’s too good. how dumb is that? that people would stop being friends with someone because they’re too fucking good at something? it won’t happen today. it won’t. they like each other. in less than half an hour, the match will be over and this will be nothing more than a memory. determination lights up his eyes, aomine can see it in the dark. kagami will try his hardest to beat him. he will.

    “i’m gonna win, daiki.”

    “that’s better,” aomine exhales, and squeezes past to exit the closet. he slowly opens the door at first, but the coast must have been clear because he walks out as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to leave a janitor’s closet. “now, focus. watch out you don’t get anymore fouls. what are you on now?”

    “two,” kagami replies just a little petulantly. “worry about yourself! now i’m feeling more level-headed, you’re gonna have to pay close attention.”

    “level-headed?” he chuckles, “if i lose, i’m definitely gonna blame that kiss. you’re trying to sabotage me.”

    “what!” it’s still weird to think that he occupies any of aomine’s thoughts, and too weird that now he’s struggling to concentrate because of him. he’s blushing at the thought! “get your head in the game, dumbass!”

    “why are you going red? shouldn’t i be the embarrassed one?”

    “no, i’m not! you’re just seeing things!”

    they push open the doors to the court together: entering as confidently as two unstoppable forces could. each believed they’d win, it radiated from every pore. kagami’s blush settles because aomine doesn’t push the topic, he must have known it would mess up the redhead’s turbulent headspace again if he did. 

     he feels so refreshed now. he’s definitely not as worried about the aftermath as before their talk. kagami’s chest can hardly contain how excited he is to get back in the game! he finds his teammates, they’re talking among themselves, having just come back from the locker room, probably. he owes them an apology for being selfish before ( but not an explanation - now is not the time ). he takes another grounding breath before raising his fist and turning back to his boyfriend.

    “thanks,” he says sincerely.

    “shut up,” aomine rolls his eyes and bumps his knuckles against kagami’s. “don’t let it happen again, knucklehead.” they leave to part ways when he speaks again and makes kagami turn. “hey, see you in the zone.”

    kagami can’t fight the smile on his face: it’s all encompassing and apparently contagious if aomine’s newfound grin is anything to go by. “if you can keep up with me.”

   his smile doesn’t fade until he’s back at the bench. he gets an earful about not being there to talk battle plans, and he wholeheartedly apologises for being too in his own head in the first half. but he’s good now. kuroko is the first to admit the visible change in kagami’s energy. he believes in him. that helps more than he’s able to admit, and kagami sends him an appreciative smile when kuroko stands up for him. they’re all on the same page now ( even if some of the information is redacted, like kagami’s reason for his hesitation ). he will make it up to his team. and this time, instead of fighting for himself and seirin, kagami will give his all for aomine’s sake, too.

     and if he doesn’t win today, he won’t get to fight the other dumbass generation of miracles guys now that their heads are out of their asses! kagami’s hyped up and happy to play again. he’s almost a whole different person. when he meets aomine back on the court, they’re smiling but focused. aomine has the skill to allow for the game to be fun, but kagami’s fighting spirit takes over and the intensity returns.

     they meet in the zone. it’s unforgettable.

[otg2012]

Beautifully Unfinished | After Stiles wakes up from the coma, he doesn’t remember his marriage to Jackson and after living with him and their son for three weeks, he decides to leave and stay with his father.

DAY 4: Dealer’s Choice @jacksonwhittemoreweek | Stiles/Jackson | AO3

It's 8.20 am on Saturday, three weeks after they got back from the hospital, when Jackson finishes doing the laundry. Because when he can't sleep, as it's been happening since he's not sleeping in his bed, he'd rather do something useful than listen to Stiles's heartbeat while he lays staring at the ceiling. The thing is that his heartbeat doesn't calm him like it used to, now it only makes Jackson restless.

He gathers all the carefully folded clothes and leaves his own piled on his bed with some of Daniel's which he'll leave at his room later. Then he takes Stiles's clothes and goes to his room expecting to find it dark with Stiles still sleeping. If he had paid attention to Stiles’s breathing, he'd have known he was awake, but he's trying pretty hard to disconnect from upstairs and focus on any other thing he can think of.

When he enters the room the bed is empty. Daylight’s starting to come through the window and the light is on in the bathroom next to the closet. He goes to put the clothes away and as he passes in front of the bathroom he can see Stiles looking at himself in the mirror, carefully shaving.

Jackson is transfixed for a moment. It's like going back in time. Stiles looks beautiful. He's freshly showered, almost naked, in just his briefs, skin flushed after the hot water, messy wet hair in all directions, broad shoulders and muscles already recovered from the accident, the familiar smell of Stiles's shampoo filling instantly his senses. And this is how it used to be. Only they would shower together when they had time and they would shave together afterwards. It was his favorite moment of the day and he misses it. He wants it back so badly.

It's just a minute but it's enough. He might have stopped breathing, afraid that if he moved, the moment would be gone. Jackson feels his heart beating faster. His wolf wants him to reach out so desperately that he can barely stop himself from moving, from reaching out and embrace him from behind like he has a million times. He wants to touch his skin and bite his shoulder. He wants to smell the scent on his neck and never let go. But he can't, just like he can't stop staring either.

A minute later, Stiles realises he's not alone. He looks at Jackson from the mirror and their eyes meet. Stiles puts the razor down, and rests his hand on the counter.

It's such a strange feeling. After all these years he’s known Stiles, he can tell what his mate is feeling just by looking at him, he can feel the rejection radiating from him. His husband is uncomfortable and embarrassed in front of him and his wolf wants to scream with despair. So Jackson looks away first, he turns around and leaves without a word dropping the clothes he was holding on the bed. Stiles doesn't call after him or tries to stop him and he's thankful for that. He wouldn't have known what to say.

_______________________________________

Jackson is at his desk in his office at home going through some documents of his new trial, when Stiles bursts in and he's kind of nervous, which he's sure Jackson will probably notice.

"Are you busy?"

"Actually yeah, I am, but it can wait, don't worry. What's going on?"

“Really?" Stiles asks, looking uneasy.

"Yeah. Just tell me." Jackson leaves the folder on the desk and leans back in his chair, focusing all his attention on Stiles.

"Okay. Well, what would you say if I told you that I'd like to stay with my father for a week... or two?" Stiles touches his left ear and his neck, nervously avoiding Jackson eyes.

"What do you mean?" Jackson frowns. "Why do you wanna go?"

"Well," Stiles spreads his right arm, "I've not seen him since we left the hospital and there are things I'd like to ask him, and I miss my house and my room... and I don't know. I feel like I need to go back there for a few days at least."

My house, my room. Jackson will never get used to that. "Stiles, this is your house," Jackson spreads both arms. "You chose this house... with me."

"God Jackson, you know what I fucking mean." Stiles bites his lip.

"Yeah I know what you mean, perfectly. And I don't want to argue with you."

"So you're okay with it?"

"Do I want you to go? No, of course I don't want you to go," Jackson says matter-of-factly. "I've never lied to you and I'm not starting now. You already knew my answer and that's why you were afraid to ask me... which by the way, is stupid because you don't have to be afraid of me. Ever."

"I'm not afraid of you." Stiles shakes his head.

Jackson doesn't reply. He simply looks at him with an intense gaze that makes Stiles more nervous.

"I'm not." Stiles waves his arms before closing them in a defensive position.

"Okay. I hope so because I'm your husband and I'd kill anybody who tried to hurt you. You need to know that." Because he's not sure what Stiles knows and doesn't anymore.

Stiles is speechless for a moment. Sometimes Jackson says these shocking things that blindside him, every time.

"And have you?" says Stiles, his voice a whisper.

Jackson stares at him, not sure what he means exactly.

"I mean, have you killed anybody?" Stiles clarifies.

And that is a question Jackson didn't expect and probably should have.

"No. Not since becoming a wolf, no. I've been in some fights and yeah, I've hurt people... wolves mostly... but I haven’t ended anyone’s life... still, I'd do it if there was no other choice; and I'd do it to protect you or our family."

Stiles has a knot in his throat. He's not sure why he asked but this is something he needed to know. And he can't deny it, it feels good to know that somebody has your back.

"So, anyway, you already knew how I felt when you came in here. And I'm just your husband," sarcasm dripping from his voice. "You are not a wolf and I'm not your alpha. I can't tell you what to do. If you wanna go, go." Jackson gestures towards the door of the office. "I can't stop you," he adds quietly.

"God. I know you can't stop me. I'm not asking you for permission, I just don't want you to think that I'm leaving or something."

Jackson smiles wryly. "You aren't?"

"Shit. No, Jackson, I'm not. It's just for a few days."

"Whatever you say." Jackson looks away from Stiles and looks at the documents on the desk again. "And when are you going?"

"I thought tomorrow morning. I need to phone my father and let him know. I also need to tell Daniel --"

"No," Jackson interrupts him. "It's better that I tell him. Trust me, it's better that I handle it."

"Okay, if you insist --"

"I do. He'll start asking you questions and believe me, he'll take it better from me."

"You're probably right." Because if anything is true is that Jackson knows his son and he's still learning the most simple things. "I'll leave you to your work now."

"Yeah. Okay. Close the door behind you please."

And Stiles does exactly that. He closes the door and Jackson doesn't get any work done. He does something he's done a lot since the accident. He opens his laptop and selects a video of their holidays. It doesn't take long before he can't stop some tears from falling over his cheeks and afterwards he wonders why he keeps torturing himself.

_______________________________________

Scott stops the match he was watching and gets up to open the door.

"Hey Jackson, what are you doing here?" Scott asks, obviously surprised.

"I was gonna text you but I was close... actually I was just at my parents so I thought I could just stop by and see if you were at home."

"Yeah, man, I was just watching a game. Allison went shopping with Andrea and I don't think they'll be here for lunch. But come in," Scott steps aside and lets Jackson come in to the dining room, "have a seat," he says, pointing to the big couch in front of the television. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Yeah, just water, please."

"Oh yeah, I know, no alcohol. It must suck, huh?" Scott says, as he grabs a beer for himself and a small bottle of water from the fridge.

He hands it to Jackson. "I have orange juice or tea as well if you want."

"No, that's okay. Thank you." Jackson opens it and takes a long drink while Scott sits on the opposite side of the coach and turns off the television.

"Yeah, it kinda sucks," Jackson continues, "but that's how it is, you get used it. And it's only for nine months, so it's not as bad as it seems."

Scott nods, "I guess it isn't but still, you know I think it's amazing that you're doing it a second time."

Jackson snorts and leaves the water in the small table in front of him. "I know. I didn't think it was gonna happen. Stiles wanted it so much. It's hard to say no to him... and don't misunderstand me, now I want this child more than anything but I'd be lying if I said I was sure."

"You had every right not to be sure after what happened."

"I don't know. I just..." Jackson shakes his head. "This is gonna sound terrible but I'm starting to think it wasn't the right decision."

"What are you talking about? Is that why you're here?"

"Yeah. Stiles left," he sighs. "He's gone."

"What..." Scott stammers, "what do you mean he's gone?"

"He's not at home. He's at the Sheriff's."

"What?" Scott runs his fingers through his hair pushing it back from his eyes. "When? Why?" he says louder than he intended.

"This morning." Jackson licks his lips and sighs, "he basically asked me yesterday if he could go back to his house... like he needed my permission to go."

Scott shakes his head because it's frustrating. "And what did you say?"

"What did you expect me to say?" Jackson leaves the water on the coffee table. "I said I didn't want him to go but I don't control him. I can't tell him what to do. Besides, he wanted to go, you know how he is, he was gonna go no matter what I said."

"But is he just visiting his father? What's he doing there? How long is he staying?"

"A week, a couple of weeks... forever... what the fuck do I know? He said he wants to talk to his father and just stay home for a few days. Because you know, that's his house in his mind. No matter how long he lives in our house, he doesn't feel at home there. He's just... like a visitor... some kind of guest who spends the night." Jackson says bitterly.

"Shit. He hasn't told me anything. I didn't know he wanted to go to his dad's. I need to talk to him."

"Yeah, that's why I said that. This baby," Jackson touches his stomach with his right hand, "he doesn't want it and he doesn't want Daniel. I know how it sounds, but he doesn't feel anything for him, just like he doesn't feel anything for me. I can't keep him at home if he doesn't wanna be there. I can't do that to him. It's not right."

"Jackson, it's only been three weeks, you have to give it time. You know what the doctors said."

"Oh yeah, that he may never recover his memory, that's what they said. You don't understand it," Jackson shakes his head, "I'm trying... really hard, everyday fucking day, to be understanding, to be patient, to be the kind of person I'm supposed to be... because I want him back." He runs his fingers through his hair as he tries to stay calm. "I want my husband back but nothing is happening. Do you get it? He's not better and Daniel knows that something is wrong. He doesn't treat him the same way... he doesn't know how to treat him because he's a fucking teenager... I mean, I can't imagine myself with a child either when I was sixteen. I can't blame him and I honestly don't know what to do."

"Does he play with him? What does he do?"

"Yeah, sometimes. He's read to him at night too but I don't think he enjoys it... if that's even the word." Jackson sighs, "I know he's trying. But he doesn't talk to me about it. I think he's afraid of hurting my feelings if he says he doesn't feel anything for his son, y'know?"

"I can talk to him if you want."

"Do what you want but it doesn't matter. It's not gonna change anything. Before I married him I never thought I'd be a father, and then he wanted children and somehow he convinced me I could actually be a good father. It was his fucking idea and we did it and I've never once regretted that decision --"

"Until now?"

"Yeah, until now. I never wanted to be a single father."

"But Jackson, you are not a single father. Stop saying that." Scott leaves the beer on the table.

Jackson snorts, "Oh but I am. He's not interested in giving Daniel a bath or feeding him. He doesn't feel a connection to him, and what do you think is gonna happen when the baby is born? I can't exactly see him changing diapers either. He's not interested in being a father and there's nothing anybody can do about that."

Jackson is silent after that. He closes his eyes and rests his head on the couch.

"So..." Scott continues. "Things between you two haven't changed at all?"

Jackson simply shakes his head at first. "Nope." He opens his eyes and looks at the ceiling. "Nothing has changed. If anything, it has only gotten weirder."

"Weirder?"

"Yeah," Jackson snorts, "I don't know. It's like living with another person. He's never been shy and you know how he is... he's a very tactile person. I mean, you've seen us together for years..."

"Sure," Scott nods.

"Now he won't touch me. And he's afraid to be close to me." Jackson snorts again. "I..." he stammers, "I don't know what he's afraid of. I think he's afraid of feeling something he doesn't want to feel."

"For what you told me, I thought things got better before he left the hospital."

"Well, I did too. I thought we had made some kind of progress or something. I thought... I thought he got it, you know? But when we got home things stayed the same."

"Have you asked him about it?"

"Are you kidding? What do you want me to say? Please let me touch you because this is killing me?" Jackson says rolling his eyes.

"I don't know, man." Scott tosses his hands in the air. "You shouldn't ask me for advice," he points at himself. "I'm as lost about this shit as you are."

"Well, I can't ask Danny, that's for sure. He doesn't get it."

"Because he isn't a wolf?"

(Continue on AO3)

[candyheartharry]

Fall Apart - Part 1

Hiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!! Sorry it took me literally ages to even get the first part written, but she’s here, and she’s ready, and she has a growing playlist for the whole series which you can listen to here if you know a song that fits the vibe send it my way so I can add it to the list ✨Once again thank you to the lovely @yessii-i for the request that started it all and @calssunflower who was kind enough to ask to be tagged, you’re both gems thanks for the love 💘(also if you wanna be tagged in upcoming parts of the series just let me know!!) PART II

You read somewhere once that whenever you meet someone new, there’s either and instant connection or an instant disconnection, but never really believed it fully until the day you met him. You’d heard of him before, both in his career and in his personal life, due to the fact you both shared friends who worked together, so in a way everything was almost inevitable.

After the initial first time meeting him, he soon turned into the person who kept showing up everywhere. You had gone from only ever hearing about him through people you both knew, to as soon as you were both properly introduce you were suddenly seeing him nearly every time you turned around. It started with the realization he had stepped in line behind you at the grocery store, where he gave a quick, “Oh, hi, nice to see you,” after only just meeting him the night before. Then a quick hello again at a party at a friend’s house where you both spent the evening with different groups of people and only saw each other for a second in the kitchen. Once again in passing as you’re walking across the parking lot into a bookstore, and he’s walking back to his car the next row over with his most recent purchase tucked under this arm and an iced coffee in his hand that he uses to wave at you with after you get his attention by calling his name. There was once you both had the chance to say hello as you held the door open for him and his friends as you were on your way home for the night from a showing your friend had at an art gallery in town, but it only ever just seemed to be ‘hello’ and nothing more. It had almost turned into an unspoken game between the two of you, how long would it take to accidentally run into each other in this town that shouldn’t feel so small.

“I’m pretty sure this is like, the sixteenth time we’ve ran into each other in the past two weeks, I promise I’m not stalking you,” you suddenly hear a voice say while you’re sitting by yourself in the café of the bookstore you both evidently frequented, drawing your attention away from the book you were reading. Who else would it be standing beside your table, but Calum, with an iced coffee much like before and another book tucked under his arm.

“Don’t worry about it, if you were stalking me I feel like you’d be less obvious about it,” you say with a smile which he returned just as quickly. Even though you had really only ever been introduced once, and the most you had said to each other was general pleasantries to say hi and be polite, something drew you to ask him to stay so you could actually have a conversation with him for once. “Would you like to sit, or are you on your way out?” you ask, nodding to the empty chair across from you. He hesitates for a moment, “Are you sure, I don’t mean to bother you and interrupt.” You push the chair out from under the table a little with your foot, “If it was a bother, I wouldn’t suggest.”

He gently smiles and takes the seat while he sets his coffee on the table as you use your receipt to mark your place in the book and leave it closed in front of you. As you do so, his eyes are drawn to the cover, and half a smile finds its way across his face.

“I swear to god, I am not stalking you,” he says with a laugh, taking his own book out from under his arm and placing it in front of him on the table like yours.

“Oh my god, did we just buy the same book? Why are you buying a book on dream interpretation?” you reply, starting to laugh yourself.

“It seemed interesting! Why are you buying a book about dream interpretation?” he replies with a smile, shrugging his shoulders in defense.

“If I’m being honest, I had a dream an ex of mine was engaged and I wanted to know why it bothered me since I literally haven’t wanted to speak to him for the better half of two years now. Honestly, I’d rather have dreams about my teeth falling out,” you reply before taking a sip from your bottle of water.

“Well, if I have any weird dreams you’re now the first person I’m gonna have to tell about them,” he says, mirroring your actions and reaching for his own coffee.

It was casual, and really just meant to be part of the conversation, but something behind it felt a little like a promise.

Eventually over the next few months, accidentally running into each other had turned into planning to see each other, whether that meant texting to check in to see that the other was going to also be attending a mutual friend’s party, offering to drop off something for lunch to the other’s workplace when one of you didn’t have enough time to go out during a break, or deciding to join them on a late night drive through run when suddenly it was almost 1:00 AM and French fries sounded like the best thing in the world. It was one of these late night conversations centered around a paper bag full of fries, two milkshakes, and the largest strawberry lemonade you could get your hands on that you think you really became friends with him.

“Do you need to go home soon? If you’re tired I can drop you off,” he asks during one pause in the conversation.

“No, I’m fine, unless you’re getting tired, then I don’t mind going home if you need to leave,” you reply, noticing the clock in his car is reading closer to 2:30 AM than you realized, but he shakes his head.

“Honestly, I haven’t consistently gone to sleep at a reasonable hour for probably like, two or three years now. I usually just chill in my backyard, maybe try to work on a song or something. I’ve tried just about every herbal tea I can get my hands on and I tried reading until I got tired, but then I was just finishing a bunch of books and still never really sleeping,” he continues.

“So now you just secretly want to throw off my sleep schedule, too, so you can have someone to talk to when you’re up all hours of the night, right?” you joke with him, to which he shrugs.

“I mean I’m not gonna lie, if you’re already awake it’s convenient, but it’s not like it’s intentional or anything,” he replies.

In the quiet darkness of his car, it’s easy to get caught up looking at him; how he absentmindedly nods his head with the beat of whatever songs play off his phone, how he’s angled just ever so slightly in the driver’s seat to be turned just a little towards you, how his elbow is almost touching your knee as a result of the way your legs are folded up in your seat. If you had noticed at the right times in the conversation, you would’ve noticed he’d been looking at you the same way, taking in how he thought your features looked nice in the distant glow of the streetlight across the parking lot, how you keep your hands folded around your bended knee when you aren’t eating, the way you always look up when a car passes by. Maybe he was thinking that falling asleep next to you might help him sleep for once, but maybe that was something he was trying to push out of his mind since the idea interrupted his train of thought during the conversation earlier.

“Did I ever tell you why I moved out here in the first place?” you say after finishing up your strawberry lemonade, unknowingly interrupt his thinking.

“No, I don’t think so, as far as I know you were always just here,” he says.

“I was feeling really stuck is probably the best way to put it. I was feeling like if I didn’t change something soon, I was going to be stuck doing the same thing, in the same place, with the same people I had always been stuck with for the rest of my life. It was just an overwhelming feeling that ‘something’s gotta give’ you know? So I quit my stable job, broke up with my stable boyfriend, and within a month I was out here, without a single person I knew,” you told him. For some reason tonight you were feeling a little lost in nostalgia, and couldn’t quite put your finger on why.

You had been looking out the passenger window as you were telling him this, and you still don’t really know why you started saying it in the first place, but when you look over you meet his eyes. You could see in his face he knew the feeling you meant, when everything should be fine, but nothing seemed to feel right.

“Sometimes you’ve just got to fall apart before you can fall back together, I think,” he says after a moment. There was a sincerity behind it that told you he was in the falling back together of his own story, and maybe that he was willing to be part of the falling back together in your own.

“I’m sorry, I made this weird,” you reply, breaking his gaze to look back out the window, the eye contact suddenly becoming too much for you.

“Hey,” he says in a gentle voice to encourage you to look back at him. Once you do, he continues. “It’s not weird to tell your friends about something that’s not superficial. Usually I’m the one who keeps to myself whenever some deep shit’s on my mind.”

“Wow, imagine that, Calum Hood: having deep shit on his mind that he won’t share with anyone,” you tease lightheartedly to bring some life back to the mood before it gets too deeply rooted in suddenly being complex and emotional, and just as according to your plan, this makes him laugh.

“Hey! I don’t know what you’re talking about, I am innocent in this situation, I have done nothing wrong,” he replies in his defense. You can’t help but notice the way his eyes crinkled and his whole face lit up when he laughed is a look you haven’t seen from him before, but it’s quickly a look you want to see again. And again, and again, and again.

“So is this boyfriend you broke up with the same one you had a dream got engaged, or is that somebody different?” he asks to change the subject as he reaches for more fries from the shared bag between you, sensing it was getting a little too close to being about himself for his liking.

“No, it’s the same one. Which is why I was so confused in the first place that the dream bothered me so much, like I’m the one who left him, so why did this dream make me start second guessing myself?” you replied, “Like I genuinely haven’t kept up with him since I moved out here, but all the sudden I was worried I made the wrong choice, which didn’t make sense to me. I mean, I haven’t dated anybody since then, so even though I was emotionally checked out of the relationship for a while, does part of my subconscious or something still think it was too risky of a move to just call it off like that?”

He’s silent for a moment, because in all honesty, he’s just not too sure what to say.

“I’m very much over it, but I also very much think love sucks,” you say breaking the silence.

“That’s a statement I can get behind,” he starts after a sip of his milkshake, “I avoid it at all costs.”

“Maybe I should do the same, then I wouldn’t be so fucking confused further down the line,” you reply. “You don’t have to get into it on why you think love sucks, I’m just glad we can both agree it needs to be avoided at all costs.” What you told him wasn’t entirely true. Somewhere deep down behind the layers and layers of walls you had built up, you knew you would always be a little bit of a hopeless romantic, it might just take some time before you felt like you were ready to let that back to the surface again. You didn’t know it, but Calum was the same way, even if he didn’t let on that he was. Sometimes people are drawn to each other and instantly have a connection, and in this case that connection was over how to live with a broken heart. His idea of living with it was pretending it wasn’t broken, and yours was realizing it was and embracing all the broken pieces.

“Like I said: I avoid it at all costs.”

[welcometophu]

Not Your Love Song: Chapter 33

Marked Book 2: Not Your Love Song

Chapter 33

[ Previous | First | Next ]

When Rory walks out of his last class on Friday, Kit’s waiting in the hall, leaning against the opposite wall. Kit lowers his phone, lifts his free hand when Rory spots him. As Rory shifts directions, he lowers his hands, swings them slightly away from his body in a silent question that is answered when Kit hugs him hard, wrapping his arms around him.

They stand there in the middle of the hallway, Kit’s head against Rory’s shoulder, almost under his chin. Kit exhales, tension seeping out of his body, and Rory inhales as their magic swirls around them. The crowds moving out of the classroom split around them, like they’ve become an island of two.

“Can I—” Kit asks as he looks up, and Rory meets him halfway for a slow, gentle kiss.

Rory still doesn’t get the fascination most people have with kissing—it’s like hugging with lips, as far as he’s concerned—and with Kit it isn’t terrible, maybe even a nice and intimate thing when done right. Which may be because Kit respects boundaries and doesn’t try to turn it into something more complicated.

As Rory withdraws, he brings one hand up to briefly touch Kit’s face. “You can add that to the standard hello,” he says. “I’m okay with it.”

Kit grins, touches his fingers to his own lips, then to Rory’s. “Okay then. Hello.” He steps back, catches Rory’s hand and twines their fingers together as they head for the stairs down and out of the building.

“Did I forget a date tonight? I thought you had plans with your sister.” Rory didn’t think he had any plans tonight, which would mean either gaming or writing songs or getting ahead on homework. Or movies. Streaming video is a wonderful thing some nights.

“I did,” Kit admits, a hint of tension seeping back into his stride. “I do, actually, but I’m free after that. And I was hoping that you could come with me.”

“With your sister,” Rory echoes warily. “Is this a meet the family thing? Because she already knows who I am.”

“I’m pretty sure she wants to do that more officially, too,” Kit says, “but not this time. This is a meeting with Pawel kind of thing. About rituals. And since you have such an impact on my art, and since we were talking about Carolyn’s Talent and mine and how everything interacts, and since you’re part of my final project, I kind of figured you should be there.”

Rory raises his eyebrows. “I’m your final project?” He’s only teasing, but it stops Kit mid-word.

“Not you, the ritual.” Kit swings closer to him, and as they get outside, he nudges them both off the path. He wraps his arms around Rory, walking them both to a place where they can stand entwined out of the way of the flow of traffic. “You help settle me,” Kit mumbles against Rory’s chest. Where their hands are linked, Kit squeezes, his other hand pressed against Rory’s shirt. “And if I need to do art, I might need you to help me do it well. She’s upset and anxious, which means I’m upset and anxious, and yes, it’s a twin thing. I can’t just avoid this even though I honestly don’t want to be involved.”

Kit’s been prickly for at least a week, and Rory hasn’t wanted to poke at it. But this seems to be the opening he needs. He slides his hands under Kit’s jacket, feels the warmth of his skin through his shirt and focuses on that, on how close they can be. It creates a cocoon for them against the chill of the February air. “Do you want to talk about it now?” Rory asks quietly.

Silence through several heartbeats before Kit nods against his chest, but doesn’t elaborate.

It’s going to have to be questions then.

Rory slips one hand free, raises it to stroke through Kit’s hair. “You’re pissed off at Carolyn. You’ve been pissed off at her for a long time, and now you say you have to do this.”

“She’s my twin.”

That part Rory gets. If Thorne asked him to do something—and it was reasonable—Rory would do it, even if it didn’t thrill him. Family’s family. That’s just the way it is, and he figures twins have to be even more so.

“Why does it upset you?” Since Kit said he wanted to talk, Rory figures it’s up to him to determine how, since Kit’s not doing it. And if Kit backs down, Rory will let it go.

But this time, he gets the feeling this is what Kit wants.

“It’s about high school,” Kit says quietly. He nudges, and they keep moving into the space near the stairs, where a long bench sits amongst the landscaping. The flowers are dead, the bench iced at one end, but there’s still enough dry space for both of them to sit.

Rory keeps an arm around Kit’s shoulders, and they lean together, sharing warmth.

“Back in high school, we did an epically bad ritual,” Kit says. “Me, Carolyn, and our best friends Del, Sam, and Shawn. It was supposed to be the prank to end all pranks, and instead it ended up with Carolyn in the hospital for a few days, Del missing for a bit, and Sam stuck in an institution since then. His mind’s been gone; he’s lucid sometimes, but not enough.”

“Like Lora?”

Kit shakes his head. “Not exactly like Lora. Shawn’s awake. He’s… he can function, and talk. They keep him fed and he exercises, but it’s like he’s not all there. Or not seeing them. Like his mind is somewhere else. And right now, that’s what Carolyn thinks has happened. His mind is literally in the dreamscape that Del goes to, so she wants to get him out. And she has a plan to do this.”

“And you—” Rory still isn’t sure where the disconnect is in the logic.

Kit licks his lips. “And I’m just there to help. When we were in high school it was Carolyn and Shawn, and Sam and Del. And me. I was the fifth person. It was like what if everyone but one person in The Craft had hooked up, then you had the extra person who just tagged along all the time. The coven plus one. If you add on that I was still struggling with the fact that most of the kids in high school remembered my deadname, and teachers still sometimes struggled with pronouns even though it had been years by then… high school wasn’t a great place for me. But Sam’s insisting that I be along for this. That I’m important to this ritual. So Carolyn’s determined to include me.”

“Sam—the same one who isn’t coherent—”

“He’s talked to Carolyn recently,” Kit says. He shrugs, shoulders curving. “He has moments of coherence, I guess, and he’s been insistent about talking to Carolyn. He said we all have to be there, which means me and Shawn. I don’t want to walk those paths again, and I know Carolyn doesn’t want to do it with Shawn. Everything was such a mess after high school. I don’t want to go back.”

Rory was never really part of the in crowd in his own high school, but he wasn’t completely on the outskirts, either. He had his friends, and everyone knew he was in a band since they’d started playing so young. Even after the rest of his bandmates graduated, he still had friends. They didn’t get into trouble, and they didn’t use much magic at school.

It’s hard to imagine getting in this deep so young.

“You don’t have to go back,” he says firmly. He turns to face Kit, grips both his hands with his own. “You’re going forward here. You’ve Emerged. You’ve got me. You’ve got everywhere you’re going now. You’re learning ritual. You’ve got all these new things and you’ve still got Carolyn, too. You can support her and do what you have to do without going completely backwards.”

Kit ducks his head, points of color staining his cheeks. “And that’s why I want you there with me, to remind me that I don’t have to fall into that abyss. That I can be involved without being dragged under. I felt like I was drowning in high school, and I’ve been working really hard on figuring out who I am since I got here.”

“You can’t define yourself by me,” Rory says quietly.

“I don’t, that’s the point.” Kit huffs. “I’m that guy who’s good at Orgo. I’m pre-med, and I’m going to be a doctor. I’m apparently a magical artist, and I’m going to be a strong part of Coven during my senior year. I am not a groupie, even if I’m dating a guy in a band.”

“They’ll call you a groupie anyway, if they see us together. But we’re not that famous, so it’s okay.” Rory’s often confused about the concept of fame anyway. He’s done interviews. He knows they have a lot of teens and tweens who are fascinated by them, but they aren’t worth the big bucks so paparazzi don’t follow them around campus. They’ve found some kind of weird middle ground, which is fine with him.

“But do you see my point?” Kit asks, squeezing Rory’s hands. “You don’t define my path, but you’re part of it. You’re right there with me, and I might not have discovered some of it without you. You’re a grounding influence, and when I feel like I’m going to get sucked back into the mess that was high school, you pull me back.”

Kit talks like high school was such a long time ago.

“You realize that I just graduated high school last May,” Rory points out. He knows Kit isn’t as far from it as Darrik was, but this still makes him feel weirdly young.

“It’s not an age thing.” Kit leans forward, and Rory meets him halfway, pressing their lips together. When the kiss breaks, Rory tugs, and Kit ends up across his lap as they snuggle together, kissing quietly for long moments.

Rory doesn’t feel a desperate need to include the kissing, but it’s a nice part of the snuggling. And if it makes Kit feel content, all the better. Rory can handle that.

He’d really like to just go back to Hayworth or Douglass and spend the rest of the afternoon and evening cuddling, but he’s pretty sure that’s not an option.

“So. Is this an official meeting for an official ritual that’s coming up?” he asks. He keeps his arms around Kit, not ready to get up and start walking through the cold again just yet. He’ll continue to enjoy the cuddle as long Kit lets him.

“This is a proposal for the ritual that’s going to be Carolyn’s final project, and probably part of my own, for our independent study.” Kit’s breathing slows as Rory rubs his back. “I want to look into the use of art in ritual, and the different cases for it, and how it works when using different energies, and different goals. Particularly with how similar some aspects of both Sam’s and Lora’s cases are.”

“Mm.” Rory nuzzles the top of Kit’s head. “So her final is the actual project, yours is a write up of a compare and contrast case study.”

“Something like that. I’m not sure Pawel’s happy with us.” Kit hesitates, then amends his own words. “No, that’s not right. I think he’s weirdly proud of us. Like he gets this look on his face like we’re children who’ve gone from crawling to running and he’s amazed. Then it’s replaced by a look of horror because he’s pretty sure we’re about to run right off a cliff. And I’m not sure he’s wrong. The other reason I’m angry at Carolyn? I don’t think she’s thinking this through. And that just feels so strange. She’s the cautious one.”

“More cautious than you?”

Kit laughs. “Believe it or not, yes. She’s the one who thinks through all the consequences before doing something. If I’m worried about the outcome, I just don’t do it.”

“Maybe she’s thought through all the consequences then, and hasn’t told you about it.”

Kit sounds dubious. “Maybe.”

Rory’s not sure how to reassure him. He’s not sure if there’s anything that will help at this point, other than doing the one thing Kit asked him to do. “So. Meeting with Pawel. He’s not going to see me being there as a real recommendation for acting cautiously. I am the one who created a ritual to trap Mattie when she was still a soul-sucking shadowwalker,” he points out. “Some of the things that happened with Alaric last semester—”

“Pawel’s had a lot on his plate.” Kit’s tone is sober. “I do get that. But you’re not there for the ritual, or for Carolyn or Pawel. You’re there for me, if you’re okay with that.”

“I’m okay with that.” Rory pulls him into a tighter hug, pressing his face into Kit’s hair, kissing his head lightly. “Let’s go get it over with—or are we already late?—then we can go get your art or whatever done, and you can reward my patience with epic snuggles and streaming my favorite shows.”

Kit stays where he is for a long moment before he untangles himself and stands up. He offers a hand to pull Rory to his feet. “We can do that,” he agrees. “We can definitely do that.”

[ Previous | First | Next ]

[lifeasitis21]

Nighttime Wish

Pietro/Reader

Summary: The reader tries to escape her feelings for Pietro

A/n: Feedback is welcome! Reblogs are very appreciated, thank you and enjoy!

It’s been three weeks since you’ve seen him. Leaving seemed like a good idea at the time, back then it didn’t seem like you were running. You didn’t realize you were, until you lied down at night and your dreams began to drift.

You can’t remember the first time you met. The relationship was never like that; a love story for the ages seemed like a reach when you thought about yourself and Pietro.

He was shy. Reserved. But you could see it, that glimpse of fire behind his eyes. It caught the light when he tossed his head back mid-laugh. Or when he was laser focused, whether studying up before a mission or trying to beat your record on a game the two of you played together.

No matter the occasion, you always found yourself looking for it. When you found it you felt safe. Safe in your surroundings. Safe with him.

If you could pinpoint what you expected from leaving you would deal with it, but you couldn’t. Call it denial or convivent forgetfulness.

The moment you skimmed the acceptance email from the writing retreat you stopped thinking. You packed your bags and called for an Uber.

It was easy to make excuses as to why it was alright to just leave. To ghost all those close to you. Your roommate would needlessly worry, your brother would know you’d be okay, but the only person you couldn’t ignore was Pietro.

He deserved a text, right? Maybe something short like, ‘Got accepted into the retreat! Be back in a month.’

You must of debated for hours on whether or not to add in a ‘I’ll miss you.’

It sounded innocent but you knew it wouldn’t be. You knew it wasn’t fair to either of you.

So instead of saying anything unnecessary, you gave him the bare minimum and that was it. You disconnected and let life happen.

Had you of known your old college flame would have ended up being your ‘retreat mentor’ for a month, you would of ran the other direction...okay, maybe not.

He was undeniably rugged in the best way. That effortless facial hair and gorgeous locks to pair were ridiculous. What you hated even more than that was the way his eyes lit up when he realized it was you.

“Y/n. I can’t believe it. I mean—wow.” His words were slow; calculated.

You looked at him with a blank smile. You knew it was him but you just wanted to wait for him to realize he was gawcking.

And he did.

“God I’m sorry, this is so unprofessional, an-and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable while you’re here. I’ll be editing your work so if you’d rather have someone else I would—completely understand.”

“No, Damian no! It’s fine.” You interjected before he could continue. “I’m fine with it, it’s—it’s really great to see you. You look, great.”

A sincere smile played on your lips and he began to mirror it.

“God. It is really great to see you Y/n.”

There it was. That familiar way he patiently chose his words before speaking. Something you had loved about him.

The following days almost completely mimicked the past, and that was okay. It felt good to experience a connection to your old life in a secluded setting.

It was hard at first but eventually you began to let go of the life you walked away from. You began to let go of Pietro, if just for a moment.

Well, at least that’s what it felt like at first. But with one week left in this paradise you created for yourself, it became clear you were only letting go of the thoughts that filled your mind with his presence. There was no letting go of Pietro.

He was your best friend. Everyone knew that. It was easy to see. The two of you spent all of your time together. It was almost like you’d known each other your whole lives. God, he made you laugh. That’s when you were happiest. With your legs carelessly tossed across his lap, you would laugh and drink and laugh more. This was how most of your nights with him were.

Sometimes things were deeper though, more profound. He told you things he wouldn’t breathe to another person. And he trusted you with his life.

All of those things felt good. They felt great. It became addicting, and you didn’t realize it until the first time you heard that he’d begun dating someone. He didn’t tell you which made you mad, but the fact that you were mad made you even more mad. That wasn’t what it was supposed to be or how you were supposed to feel but it was and you hated that.

If you said anything it could ruin your friendship and you wouldn’t risk that. He meant too much.

All you had now were those fleeting moments, when his hand would linger a second too long on your arm; when he would hold your gaze and look down with that shy smile on his face.

You missed him. Way more than you should, but this was it.

The feelings you had for Damian were different. It was like you would be fine with or without him. Which was why an immense feeling of guilt took hold of you when you saw the look in his eyes as he approached you.

“I debated even asking you...” You could tell immediately that he was nervous; a feeling he rarely experienced. “...but from what you said—I mean if you’re looking for an escape, then Y/n, just come with me.”

Damian watched you with a hopeful glow emanating from his eyes. He was lightly grasping your hand, ever so gently tugging you closer to him.

“I’m not asking you to marry me..maybe someday..”

Your heart stopped cold and that warmth was nowhere to be found.

“...I’m just asking you to trust me. Come with me to Maine. It’s only a month. If you want to leave just the second after we get there I would understand. No expectations.”

Those hopeful light brown eyes from a month ago seemed darker. Like a black abyss you were scrambling to step back from.

“I—can’t. I don’t want to. I mean, jesus Damian why are you doing this?” You knew. You knew this anger wasn’t for him, it wasn’t fair but he was here.

You pulled your hand away slowly. Yes you were mad but you didn’t want him to think he’d offended you.

“Just—I’m sorry. But I can’t go with you. I have a life, people who care about me. Need me.” You mustered the least pathetic smile you could before taking a step back.

Thankfully, his features softened. A deep understanding crossed his face and it caught you by surprise.

“You’re right. Forgive me if I overstep, but as much as I don’t want to admit it, I think we’re both running from something. Us meeting here wasn’t a coincidence, no such thing. But it was the distraction we both needed I guess.”

Damian put his hand gently on your forearm and placed a kiss to the side of your forehead.

Without another word he was gone and you were on your way back to your life. The life you’d put on pause. The life where Pietro still existed.

After a month of controlling your thoughts, you finally let your mind drift. No surprise where they went. The moment Damian said it you knew he was right. He was a distraction—a great distraction, but nonetheless.

The choice you had now was simple. Either you continue on the way you have been, wanting something just out of reach, or you jump.

The time you had to decide was dissipating quickly. You were a block away from home and at the end of your street you could see what had to be Pietro’s car parked in front.

You hoped your heart wouldn’t start beating quicker but it did. The closer you got the more your brain panicked.

Maybe you could manage your feelings for longer. Just close everything off and settle in.

With bags in hand, you slowly walked up to the door. Your roommate would still be at work right now so you had to assume Pietro was waiting for you.

You tried the door and it opened. Immediately, beautiful aromas of one of Pietro’s signature dishes reached your nose. It almost made your mouth water.

In the kitchen, a few feet away, was Pietro. His hair tossled, sweat misting his forehead. His hands moved fervently from pan to pan as that fire flashed behind his focused eyes.

Slightly mesmerized you dropped your bags onto the floor and at the sound, Pietro met your eye.

« Y/n, you’re back. »

The most beautiful smile graced his crooked smile, you could have melted into it.

“I hope you’re hungry. I’m making your favorite!” He motioned down to his creation as you let out at laugh.

“I think that’s you’re favorite. But I deeply appreciate the sentiment.”

Your heart was calm. You were not scared or nervous or uncertain. There was no letting go of Pietro.

He sent you to your room to unpack while he put the finishing touches on dinner.

It seemed so simple now that you were home. That he was here. That it was just the two of you.

You walked out to see him sitting at the table waiting for you and the conversation came as easily as it always did. He was still your best friend. He still knew you better than anyone. You didn’t know why you thought he wouldn’t and right now you didnt know what you’d been so afraid of.

“I missed you Y/n. It was a rough month without you.”

Those words meant so much coming from him and you were tired of grasping onto all of this little moments when he was right here.

“So Y/n, now that you’re back, I was thinking we—“

“Pietro, wait.” You placed a hand on top of his and he glanced down at contact. “I need to tell you something, okay. And I’ve been avoiding it but I don’t want to any more. And I also won’t hold anything against you no matter your answer. I won’t be mad, I might be upset but not at you. I’d be—“ 

“Y/n stop.”

Pietro pulled his hand back and daggers pierced your heart. He stood up from the table and you followed him into the kitchen.

You were afraid to speak.

 “I couldn’t figure out why I was so upset that you left. I was mad when you left, I was mad when you were gone, and I was mad that during that entire time I couldn’t do anything about it.”

He turned towards you and took a step towards you. “Y/n you’re it for me,” he said helplessly.

“No matter what I do, how many times I love. It will never be enough. I am 100 percent sure that you are it for me. My soulmate. My one. Every cliche phrase that makes you cringe. You’re all of that, for me.”

His energy filled the room and captivated your every sense. He was closer to you now, you could feel the warmth cascading off of him.

“But I understand if that’s all it can be. I will continue on this way. I will deal with it and I won’t ever mention it again if that’s what you want. I needed you to know.”

His chest rose up and down as he finished talking. You could feel his desperation for you. It began to ease your own, and you wanted do the same.

You placed both of your hands softly on the sides of his face and gently brushed your lips against his. His eyes shut tight, like he was waiting for himself to wake up from a dream.

He moved his hand to your waist with a hesitant touch. His arms slowly wrapped around the small of your back and pulled you closer, if that was possible.

You pulled back a little, waiting for him. He fanned his lips across your cheek, ghosting up the side of your face. You could feel the heat of his breath on your eyelid as you breathed each other in. He placed a finger on the curve of your jaw and lifted your lips to his.

Your lips graced his gently. You were holding your breath. He tasted the way rain smelled.

He pulled back slowly and met your eyes. His mouth was slightly ajar and there was silence; the calm before the storm.

But a storm wasn’t the product of your story. This felt more like a break in the clouds, or the sound of night, or the moment before falling asleep.

“You’re it for me too, Pietro,” you said, at the calm before the rest of your life.

[rivasanita]

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How To Save A Long Distance Relationship From Falling Apart

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[quoteablebooks]

Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Young Adult, Fiction, 

Rating: 3 out of 5 stars

Synopsis:

Looming war threatens all Feyre holds dear in the third volume of the #1 New York Times bestselling A Court of Thorns and Roses series. Feyre has returned to the Spring Court, determined to gather information on Tamlin's manoeuvrings and the invading king threatening to bring Prythian to its knees. But to do so she must play a deadly game of deceit – and one slip may spell doom not only for Feyre, but for her world as well. As war bears down upon them all, Feyre must decide who to trust amongst the dazzling and lethal High Lords – and hunt for allies in unexpected places. In this thrilling third book in the #1 New York Times bestselling series from Sarah J. Maas, the earth will be painted red as mighty armies grapple for power over the one thing that could destroy them all.

*Opinions*

**Spoilers**

A Court of Wings and Ruin is the end of the trilogy if you don’t count the add on novel that I am assuming is a bridge to the next series, and finally, war breaks over Prythian. The novel starts not too long after the events of A Court of Mist and Fury, with Feyre back in the Spring Court after the disastrous showdown with King Hybren. Feyre must navigate her way in a Court that is no longer her home and find a way to get back to the Night Court, her sisters, and her found family before Hybren starts his assault on Prythian. I have to say that the pacing in this novel was much better than in Mist and Fury with a number of moving pieces keeping the reader engaged. Yet, I found the ending slightly disappointing in terms of emotional payoff. Don’t get me wrong, I like a happy ending, but there was very little sacrifice to get that ending so it didn’t feel that it was earned. Now I have praised Maas before for letting Feyre make mistakes and have emotions as any individual would have. However, as the series progressed, I felt we saw less and less of this. It might have been deliberate, showing that this experience was maturing Feyre, but it got to the point where she does nothing wrong, and even when she does, it’s instantly forgiven because she is High Lady. Also, I know that this is a romance, but when 85% of Feyre’s thoughts are about Rhysand it was as if she wasn’t her own person anymore. There are no consequences to her actions that don’t somehow end up exactly how she wanted them to be, which became a little annoying. I didn’t have any fear of Feyre surviving or being hurt because things always worked out for her. Even with the Spring Court, the one time that Feyre’s choices came back to have some sort of negative effect, at the end of the day it doesn’t matter. Tamlin is still in love with her and ends up helping her against Hybren and Lucien, who is probably the worst treated by Feyre, goes with her to the Night Court due to Elian being his mate. I guess everything was just so neatly tied up that it didn’t seem realistic to me. Acts should have consequences more than “this could have gone so wrong but it didn’t, yay.” That being said, Tamlin is the definition of a messy bitch in this novel. While there is no condoning his treatment of Feyre, or Lucien, at the end of the day he is not a pure villain. Also, in defense of Lucien, I know a lot of people could point out that he let Tamlin treat Feyre badly and didn’t do enough to help her. I want to remind everyone that this is a man who was abused by his family and his best friend has control and rage issues which he doesn’t have powerful magic to counteract. Living like that for centuries will make anyone a little hesitant to step in when tempers are brewing. I understand Feyre’s anger, both for them aligning with Hybren to get her back like a possession and Lucien not helping her when she needed him the most, but Lucien very early on also acknowledges these mistakes. As Feyre manipulates him, I understand her reasoning, but I feel for Lucien as well. Maas pulls on those feelings from A Court of Thorns and Roses to make the reader both want Feyre to succeed in her machinations, but also find it a bit cruel what she is doing to Lucien. I would have liked for Lucien to decide to come with Feyre because of what Tamlin did and not just to see his mate, but I guess Feyre wouldn’t have believed him without the mating bond. After the time in the Spring Court, it’s as if Maas doesn’t know what to do with Lucien so she just sends him off on a quest and he’s gone for hundreds of pages. The addition of Faebane to the world was needed because, quite frankly, the fact that Feyre has the powers of every High Lord and wields them with efficiency was a bit hard for me to swallow. I know that we saw her train for months to master them, but she seemed to have no weakness, so while a lot can happen in a war, I didn’t really have any fear she would be harmed in one to one combat. The introduction of the faebane took away those powers and forced Feyre to think on her feet, use her physical abilities, and sometimes make deals to get out of sticky situations. While it was negated for the war itself, Feyre didn’t fight at all and Hybren had equally powerful magic so that didn’t bother me. However, all that training for Feyre to not enter a single battle during the actual war was a little ridiculous. All this power and she stood by and watched because she wasn’t trained to fight with the legion? I got the reasoning but why give her these amazing powers and have her not once use them in the final battle? Now, my biggest grievance with this novel is that Elian, and to some extent Nesta, are just walking plot devices. Elian is literally only mentioned in the narrative to push some other action forward, sending Lucien to look for Vessa, to warn them about the Ravens, and to force Azriel and Feyre to go and rescue her from Hybren so he goes after the humans. I learned nothing about her in this novel and honestly didn’t care about her in the slightest even though I enjoyed her character in the first two novels. When she faced her human betrothed I couldn’t have cared less because she wasn’t on the page enough for me to care and even that was just to show that Jurian was working against Hybren. While Nesta had more page time due to her connection to the Cauldron and therefore we had more emotional connection to her, she still didn’t seem like a character in this novel. I know that she is getting her own set of novels and I hope that they do her justice because I think she is one of the more interesting characters in the series when they actually let her be more than an ice-cold. Maas wanted to show that both sisters are traumatized by being turned, I get that, but you need to make us care about this trauma instead of just making both women useful for their skills and not talking aside from that. It was because of this disconnect that the real emotional moment for the sisters at the end of the novel really didn’t hit for me. My next grievance is that while they are in a war and a lot of people die, it isn’t any of the characters that the reader cares about. Sure, it is sad when the Cauldron blasts countless Illyrians out of the sky, but it wasn’t Cassian, thanks to Nesta, or Azriel. I am not saying that I wanted one of the inner circle to die, but literally all of the named characters make it through the war without any lasting physical effects. I guess that isn’t the truth, the Suriel, The Carver, and The Weaver do not survive, but again we really didn’t have an emotional connection to any of them save maybe the Suriel. Especially when Feyre realizes that The Carver came into the battle knowing he was going to die. Also, Feyre doesn’t lose anything in the battle other than her father, who she had been distant from for years. While his death was sad, Feyre really never planned to see him again so why should the reader be upset? Feyre doesn’t go mad looking into the mirror for The Carver and while I am all about learning to love the good and the bad in yourself, doing it in the span of hours is a little rushed. Feyre does not have to give up any of her powers to put the Cauldron back together, Rhysand doesn’t have any ill effects from dying to but the Cauldron back together, all the High Lords survive the war along with the named allies and mates. Even Amren’s big sacrifice was nulled as she came back as a High Fae. Again, I am a huge proponent of happy endings and maybe the emotional turmoil is shown in A Court of Frost and Starlight, but I still don’t really feel as if the happy ending was earned. I also don’t think that this series is Young Adult after A Court of Thorns and Roses, but New Adult. I have nothing against sex scenes in YA books because teenagers have sex, but the amount of sex in the last two books and how detailed the sex scenes were didn’t read like a Young Adult book. Feyre was nineteen at the beginning of all this (in hopes that we wouldn’t have an issue with a centuries-old Fae wanting to sleep with her, but that’s a different issue) and has had to take care of her family so one could say she is mature. That’s why the sex scene with Tamlin in the first novel didn’t bother me at all (though there are things to say about the Under the Mountain, again not now) because while it was detailed, it was a culmination of a novel's worth of relationship building. However, in A Court of Mist and Fury and A Court of Wings and Fury, the sex scenes are more prevalent and at points, all Feyre and Rhysand think about, like the library scene. I, personally, didn’t mind all that sexuality in this novel, but I don’t think having multiple sex scenes is the only way the novel could have been empowering for young girls and their sexuality. I don’t need to know that Feyre’s legs are still up on Rhysand’s shoulders to understand the deep and intimate bond they share, just saying. Again, in an adult novel, give me all those details, not needed in YA. Overall, I enjoyed the series, but I see why people have pointed out the problems with how romantic relationships have been portrayed. I am not sure if I will seek out A Court of Frost and Starlight or Nesta’s novels, which are apparently an adult series. Maas didn’t exceptional world-building so that Prythian was a living, breathing world. However, I don’t feel as if the emotional hits really worked in this final novel and the happy ending was just a little too perfect for my taste. Maybe I’m just a cynic at heart after all.

[milakudryy787]

Few Clouds, 6°C

The first three chapters is up here, on this site. Read now!!!

○□♤Title:Molly's Plan's ○□♤Genre:Romantic Comedy ○□♤Plot:This story has to do with Molly and her personality; and how she aquires true love and falls for another man at a sequential time, and then makes two men fight for her love. ○□♤Characters: Molly~main character Sushanna~her best friend Mollys father~Leon Her first love~Francis Her therapist~Regina A world-wide scholar~Phil Jackson Mollys cousin~Jen Mollys pastor~Michael and several other minor characters.

Conflict scenes will come later...😊

Epilogue: The scenario

I was standing by the bedpost; all in tears after I found out the games she was playing with my head. I cant fall for her lies anymore. Though, it was a definite turn on and fantasy, as well as to add on that it was a miraculous disposition.  Besides, I was too old for games. It was just one thing after another, and though I liked fun and games, I was getting too old for this stuff. She might be the best at her game; but mine was starting to fall apart whether she knew it or not. He added a side note to this long letter he thought she would like and keep it as precious and something meaningful to her. After all, I was the one who really loved her. Who was this other guy other than just a shadow of what was stopping us from being together. Something, that she had slipped from her tongue, and I was hers forever. She would have the audacity to question me about it later. I would succumb to one word replies like yes, no, maybe, maybe so, definitely maybe, never, or I don't know. Whatever the case,  I wanted to state my feelings virtually and to the point before she loses me forever. She would be home in a few hours and I would be there, and also a shadow of his spirit floating amidst the both of us. She would have to proclaim her feelings before anything comes along and ruins the plan.

Chapter 1: The interrogation Molly was hailing a cab to the visitors house. Her love lest it be known, in which she would be succumbing to all her feelings and be swept away over his lovingly charms. She couldnt predict what was to come (although sometimes she felt she was able to have super-human strength abilities). But, maybe that was another perception on things.  She couldnt wait to be in his arms again and talk about all the things that was distracting or that she somehow misconstrued; in some ways or some sort of fashion. She was without makeup, her hair done in a loose bun, her eyes the crystal blue, with her bangs a little messed up. She was wearing cargo pants.  And a silver shirt that said 'black panther ' with silver/black boots-knee high. And for all; she was still a gorgeous girl. If all went well, she would be the "it" girl, wearing a nice-sizeable ring on her index finger for the sign-up to be married to Mr. Suave. There was no higher status ; were simply put; just privaledged and born into it.  A nice get together of close family and friends would imply that she held a certain kind of status. She knew all the sayings and how it went, but she needed to know whether she had it making babies or her fat diamond check was going to the right place which was actually the wrong place.

Molly grew up spoiled but she was taught not to rob any mens heart or a womens own self- thought. But, something in her that was perfect and innate in her. In despair, he fell to her feet.  " I was wrong, I admit!" Thus, she had nothing to worry about. It was a marvelous notion about particularly nothing of thought. Anyhow, theres a catch but she saw it. Only, instantly she saw the connection or disconnection at this point. Dont tell him how I feel about you...he..warned himself. I said, huh? What are you talking about ? You think I'm some especially, sensitive girl who has no feeling or emotions or concerns. Really, have no time for this. Things that mattered to her and that she took to heart, was disconcerting to my inner wisdom to myself. So, I told you...she interrupted her thought with something special. So, i think i can do this too. Wait. Sequential events that preceded this was serious to the extent of, all things drastically changed in your terminology. I..Hahaha.  Yeah right! Yeah...right...? Nevermind. What has to be taken into account was quite remarkably unsatisfying and ungratifyingly..that I was not reassured that things would be damaging to his self-ego. Yes, something to that extent. It was a slow and constant struggle to perform well in all her daily functioning activities. To be the woman she was born to be, a mature, sensual woman. " I stand strong as an empowered woman who wants to get established, and lead a lavish lifestyle.  Unbeknownst to the world, not as of yet but a guarantee for true happiness in the near future". There was everyone vouching for her, but she had to stand tall and face it like a man. Lion strength to the championship of all honors. Fight like a man and be a man. That was the motto.

That was just a waste of time. So, she met him by the sherubs near the Willowbrook trees and pinecone tress making face to her second visitor. He said he wanted to ask her a couple of questions. She discarded the part where he asked her because it was not important. The scenery didnt seem real and neither did his phony outtake on things. She was wearing a slim, back-less silver dress with shimmers and golden stone pendants on both sides of her shoulder blades cutting a very slender but still promiscuous V-shaped in the beginning of her neck line. Also, carrying a birgin bag and dollie shoes with crystal gems going through her back, floral print pantyhose. Hair pushed back in a side/swept bun and silver hoop earrings hung by her nicely shaped ears. Also, some cherry-red lipstick, foundation and mascara in a delicate appliance of each for the fit, desired outcome. Blair Simone Molly Parton looked like straight out of a movie scene. She wasn't the kind of girl that kisses and tells. But, she had an awful feeling there would be no kissing here. She had to take into consideration the type of man she would be discussing matters with her. It was her ex-boyfriend. Infrequently he would lie to get her to come see her. Especially for tonight, she was not pleased at all to have come to this meeting at all. She had a feeling she would have to endure all the pain from his quick assertions about certain files of deducted claims that had nothing pertaining to her. She was just sitting on the bench there looking all spectacular and forbidden, when he decided to meet her at that precise moment. He greeted her with a nod but nothing more than that. The next half hour to hour was a complete bore. Discussing these sorts of ruthless antics were from her liking and as far as she knew way over her head. She didn't particularly like to partake in similar discussions either. And, his ruthlessness and crude nature didn't help matters none. It was plain to see. When she dumped him last fall, he threatened her with a lot of his own side step motions and accusations. She knew there was danger in his words, but at the same time couldn't go around them. When he got there, they barely talked for five minutes; exchanging intermissible glances. Then, the conversation suddenly began to take root. He asked "well, what happened that day?" Yes, this is how this particular man always starts his sentences, with side note interventions.  "well, what do you wanna know. I told you everything that there is to know." He was going to start arguing with her, when she blatantly interrupted him with a side hand gesture. "please spare me the load of croc from where do you find the situation getting better when you're only going to try to antagonise me again? And, I won't stand for it. You have no say in this particular juncture Mr.Delaqua. There is no preposition, just preposterous attempts at your part. So, as far as you and I are concerned we are not together, nor were we ever really together. And, since you never took the time to listen to anything that had to deal with my upbringing., I'm only going to say this one more time and let it play on it's own accord. We have not done business together as much as you might want to see it another day. There is no foundation and current misleading attempts to raise me into a state of utter humiliation will one day pin you to that framework that you will try to connive your way of in the court of upholding law. And, deeming it necessary, you will stay far away from me because if you dont ; there will be trouble- one of which you dont care for." She shrieked.  My godmother should be coming soon and i need to speak to her about some personal matters. So, if you'll excuse me monsieur. He stared at her distractingly,  and said with intensity "you will not get away with this" as he put his forearm on her right elbow. She took his arm in her hand and whisked it away. " Whatever you have to show me is worthless on my account". She said. And, with that she got up and started to walk away with a last cry from the inner depths of this mans soul. He said, you will not get away with this. As if she needed to constantly be reminded of what stood in her way between her and her true destiny. She disposed of his words, like broken, frail, thin wisps of paper. She'd rather think about something that was actually worth her time. As he could only sit there pondering in his over exuberant context of all his spite, vengeful, and erratic, unsupported  thoughts and contemplations; she was gone from his life forever. Though, he wasnt going to be relayed that piece of information till later.

Her Godmother Angela was the kindest, sweetest, most genteel woman there was. Maybe, that is the reason why Blair picked her as Godmother. She was waiting patiently in Mocha Cafe for their soon to be held meeting. In the duration between the time she left the horrible man to his own complicated emotions and contemplations; she went back to her house to make two phone calls. First, she called her Godmother to schedule and  ask where and when they were going to meet. The second phone call was only to her friend, the chaplain, Michael who she just needed a piece of advice from. Their conversation was quick and to the point though. In three rings, and when he picked up she uttered a small hello whereas he replied with the same gesture. After the small talk at how was yesterday, and all that she was quick to bring about her sense of urgency of what she should do about the implications; behind the reasoning of what was to come through her own actions asking him to answer in the most honest way. In his dutiful manner, he had only one thing to tell her; was simply to be careful. "Blair, i knew you for a while now. And, it seems to me that you just keep throwing your heart out with this piece of work; who showed no appreciation for you with his cowardice and insolent state. I clearly see that you dont waste any time, but where are all these mishandlings getting you? No where good is more like it." She kept going in a monotone state about the exact nature of her wrongs and she obliged to sence of truth that her friend was resonating within her; to take more incentive into an active and systematic approach of her ways. Thank you, Michael.

It was approaching that time to meet with her Godmother by the cafe near the pier. The weather was cold on the clear November day. She didnt forget to put her scarf, her nice black suade coat , pink hat and black satin gloves . As she walked through the nice, clear path- it stretched for miles. Along the way,she witnessed the beauty of nature and all it had to endure. The bountiness of green and live agriculture was upon her. The large, beautiful trees and all different sorts of flowers from Roses, to lillies, to tulips, to wildflowers, sun- flowers, blossoms, carnations, hydrangeas, and daffodilswere in range. You can see weeds in thy path with lots of clear observance to the limitless skies and clouds; making odd and misinfomed shapes. As she walks, wildlife was in range from robin birds, turtles,  squirrel's,  and even a lizard; a few rattlesnakes,  and one deer she saw in plain clear view. She marveled at the special scenerio she witnessed due to being slightly tired; whereas her eyes could adapt to the whole sight. When she finally reached her destination. As she was walking in stride., there was an entire group of people by the patio lounging already and talking amongst themselves. The waitor greeted her as she came in through the double doors and guided her to the table as she placed a menu in the womans hands with a pleasant and courteous smile. Her phone, as she began to dial the numbers, it began to ring on its own. "Well, hello Angela. Im here, just waiting on you now. At what time might you think you would be stopping by?" Angel sighed, and said "give me about 20 minutes."Blair replied, "oh good, because we have a lot to talk about things I'm already struggling with and I wanted to run it by you." "No problem dear," Angela replied. "I'll be there as soon as possible, just have to grab my coat and purse, and order a trasportation which will only take about 20-25 minutes tops; since I live not too far away from the side of the island you are at." "Great" Blair replied, as they hung up. She then thought and pondered about everything and in between. Indesicively what they were going to talk about; the probable cause of why certain things just happened primarily on her part than her much older counterpart. And appallingly, as she checked the time again, there was Angela - looking so prim and proper with her hair in an established perm, a large coat, and a beautiful beam of a smile that would fill the nation; and those sparkling eyes. We meet, and greet each other.  Blair kisses and hugs her and they laugh a little before sitting down. She was already sipping on a pinata colada before Angela orders a small espresso and a blueberry muffin. "My dear, I feel like I haven't seen you in ages. Where has the time gone again." I feel the same, Blai replied.  Anyway, she went on with an encouraging nod from Angela. Blair said,  "I was meaning to say what's on my mind. While I was waiting for you to show, I was thinking of all the things I could tell you about my slight disposition.  Blair, started to say, I'm not sure of how I feel , there were so many things that kept getting in my way. And, once I finally got there it was not worth my time. I just thought I would have wanted to be reassured..." Before, she could finish her train of thought, Angela stopped her and began to say, "Hold on, I may feel I have an idea of what you are trying to say. Now, how long have we known each other, for four five years now. You know you can always say what's in your heart when it comes to me. How many times have I always lectured you on this? You shine just as bright as a star. Always have perseverance,  have confidence, and patience. Good things will always come your way, if you believe they will., sunshine. And, the most important thing to have ofcourse is- Compassion. Blair interrupted. "Compassion, yes" Angela replied back. Compassion is definitely a very important virtue to uphold, but what I was leaning for was self-respect and morality, even though compassion is a big one and is not any less important than the other ones. It seems like you are absorbed in all your extra-curricular activities. What happened to all your friends? You are making a mistake and you didn't hear it from me...but if thats what it takes, then I should reiterate that I know you have all the courage in the world; but when it comes to your sense of self-reliance, you have to stay true to your heart." Blair considered this, and replied, "I understand Godmother. You were always there for me when I needed and confided in you. But, I didnt come so you can worry or take pity on me. I am a big girl now and what my parents always tried to reinforce from the start was how to be a better me; and be more aware of my current circumstances, also as well what held in stock for me in the future." Blair, stated. It was not just a pep talk. What these womans words suggested to her was in a most profound and gentle like manner. It bestowed a kind of trust in herself and those around her, that she wanted to pronounce it an infinite certainty that she was going to do it for herself. The other, older woman came there for just that purpose; to instill a certain type of purpose for her. Though we are living in a fundamental existence, there was still a sparkle in the young womans eyes implying that she had all good things going for her and to always persevere to the top. To never doubt herself and bring herself down. They chatted for another half hour about the importance of all these self-fulfilling prophecies, virtues,  and debilitating strategies for all these basic aspects. As well, as a couple of good jokes for the road ahead and all that humanity had come to offer them.- which was essentially nothing. Which was as Patricia Angela Rotunno put it; a hospitable place to stay and some bread on the table. Not to mention the thoughtful acts of doing menial labor for their other sexual companions, she claimed. That was essentially what she was trying to engrain in the girls head before she started to pry and ask any more questions. They bid each other farewell at the end of their meal and parted ways gracefully, and in style; so when they got up to leave all heads turned their way. Before she headed her way back to the condo, located in Eltingville, New York; Blair made a pitch stop to the liquor store to pick up a bottle of sparkling wine for the lather bubble bath she was going to permit to herself later. All the while, thinking and reminiscing on the conversation her and her Godmother had earlier. It was such a nice time sitting there besides eachother laughing whole-heartedly at the perplexing sitiation standing before them.; meanwhile taking everything into consideration. It was very sentimental and relaxing indeed,  as she dipped her whole body in the bath water for pure, sheer joy. She found every inch of her body begin to relax as her body absorbed the water with pure excitement. As she clicked on Enya, took a sip of the good wine, she instantly went into a meditative state of mind. Fresh, nice bubbles went floating everywhere that gushed her face and hands with soap. She had cool ideas as she saw all those floating bubbles. My step sister from planet weird. Elsewhere was a great book,  she thought. Look, if Mars Attacks wasnt real, we would all be devoid of human interaction. Um, she took a big sip of wine: my ultimate reality was seen as having an equatable number of successful misadventures. Which she didnt especially like. Which seemed unfair to her. So, her only logical conclusion would be: it was an inevitable statement to be all devoid of emotion since partaking in this corrupt society was too much for her taking. Bored. She made swirls with her palms. So, the most radical explanation then would be such, as that I stay here while they go on to defeat them theirselves. I wasnt included in that particular jester. Lady of Snakes, or Lilith, or even Aphrodite knew nothing of my own heroic disclosures to my entertwined. Im getting too ahead of myself. And, she held back knowing that when she mentioned that she know's it will her and just herself that will be reading this in tribute; in spite of all the backlashing. Then, a flicker on one side of the wall, she could see through her vision; but it was just her right toe. It wasnt amusing.  I was becoming delirious. I decided to put all the rest of my 'logical' thoughts into place. I feel that the only other group that was similar to mine own interests only was another part of me. One of which I  will never understand.

Chapter 2: The inquisition

This is only a short chapter. The simple reason, being that was no, henceforth, inquisition of any kind needed to be made. The only questions that were asked were of nobodys to that level. Lets start from the beginning.  All dyslexic shapes was what I was good at deciphering. But, there was a man and woman of the nile. she transcended into the farthest mountains of the Evergreens in present day- Minneapolis. Hey, I think I know more than the man. In other contest, the jets scored today in this 2nd season. That was the inquisition.  Perusing her main point in focus, it was very insightful. Yet, it didnt make any sense. She stuttered, mumbling filthy incantations behind her snare, the thought was illogical and reversed it back to Normal mode. We all know the part that comes next after his valuable doctrine to her. She had to memorize it word for word. Lest, it be known that the doctrine was strictly as followed to remain constant every way. It was evidently pass that time where we can make any dramatic entrance. Apparantly,  he felt adamant about that part. All those factors didnt make any sense to her, nor in that concept. Those particular disclosures were fragments of a whole, not unlike to his teachings. Colors by Halsey was a favourite song of mine in that moment and  admiration for Gods sustainable life source and forces of Nature all as one, dually noted. The testimonial was to abide by Holy Spirit, father, and other father. So, she stuttered.,mumbled something incoherent under her breath and stepped lazily out of the bathtub.  She left the bathroom,  just thinking somehow, pathologically to herself: did the holy spirit just rape my entire being?

"I was granted access to urm, the missionary international station of Mars. I had the i.d" , (Alita, the battle angel) i would never lie to the same girl that I was a long time ago. No, I'm totally kidding. I have no redemption, coming my way which is why the inquisition probably lasted so short in time! I was told my higher preachings come from God, so I must stay focused to what I believe in. The power of my i.d on urm, would be so much more powerful than the prospect of being unhappy. The next chapter will be a doozy. =)

But first, the reason why the inquisition lasted a short time- how you would really like to know? Because, there was a girl that put the cards on the table and incriminated herself to make the process of a simple inquisition take so short of time. Hey, it was the best thing she got.

Somehow I tried to incorporate the colder than ice lyrics to frame Molly's perspective on things. How can they be so stubborn? So unforgiving of my timid and frantic outcome on things. I will read you the colder than ice lyrics in two seconds! Ok..here goes:

Colder Than Ice Lyrics There she stands on the floor colder than ice, vision fixed on the door colder than ice now she knows that she's nice golden hair and deep blue eyes noone dances her twice nothing happen so far 'cause who wants to get burned by the ice No one reach her tonight before she takes flight She's colder than ice How can I get in first hurt to intice

CHORUS She's colder than ice Colder than ice COLDER THAN ICE

Suddenly I was there and she's is in his arms all too close to him and she feels his charms couldn't see it no more could it be I'm loosing for sure Oh it's breaking me up 'cause I'm the only one who dares to walk on the ice No one reach her tonight before she takes flight She's colder than ice How can I get in first hurt to intice She's colder than ice colder than ice COLDER THAN ICE (x2)

No one reach her tonight before she takes flight She's colder than ice How can I get in first hurt to intice She's colder than ice colder than ice COLDER THAN ICE -

By Grant Miller

Chapter 3: An "any other place" situation.

"You have bad breath" She mumbled underneath her breath in his direction. He looked at her from the side, and said "what"? Why would you prolong something when he already instigated it back to her? She could never explain that which made her believe she wasnt in hades, and so she was his and his  alone in the circle of hell. He kept on going with the insults.., such as you are an evil, I should have listen to what everyone was telling me about you (My mom, my sister, Susan). She could feel heat waves fuming out of her, as he had some nerve after he insulted her to the core. What an evil bitch, she thought. The justification of these morals were as such:she didnt know. ELSEWHERE IS A FUN BOOK. Ok, so im not that special, she admitted wholeheartedly. And I wish Terminators were real. I like how they predicted my future. I could write a book about this, but I wont., its too tough to explain. Sorry,  some people cant read. Heh, that was actually funny to her. Now, the difference between men and woman is that there is only one woman for every man but the ratio for a love match is simple.. do his laundry=great sex. Understand my philosophy, or these pages will keep repeating its framework. So, in the dungeon now with no words to say except that it was cool. There is no point to this chapter either except now you know I was funny that way. So, lets start from the beginning. In my teens, I started to have premonitions. As I was making my way into my late teens, I started to have hallucinations., some which were downright scary. I was labeled as a schizophrenic for a while. Then the doctors agreed it was no big deal, although all the seminars they held for me in those institutions had me labeled as 'girl interrupted' for a while. After making an escape attempt, I was incriminated and sent to an institution for two and a half years. Now that I see that there is no greener grass on the other side through my fragmented ability to have clarity I started seeking other options through my logical pathways for a true escape out of all four corners in my mind. I started thinking like a linguist, a scholar, that girl, how all the girls would think and its entirety lay in the hands of the depths of a mans soul. He deliberately put me into a state of trance so I would see colors and only colors. I was that girl who didnt see the ending of this complexity. Paper after paper going down the drain till I get the essence of why we must not speak about these things. The reasoning behind these implications was that the whole spectral of her mindset was blasphemous, unholy and should be condemned. Who brought on these surge of emotions. That means inputting, decoding, and encoding an entire word is simple enough-  Let me know how that goes. Some girls would mock her. Blair didnt take pity on those fools. She was smart like that. It wasnt rocket science. More like boring Chemistry.  I didnt pass Chemistry, I didnt even take Chemistry, but it also had some meaning behind its implications. Oh man, she sat there thinking. I wish I could feel how I feel when I just felt that. Meditation, meditation, sleep, and Contemplation. Nothing will ever ruse my state of deep transcendental awareness at this time.CHORUS.  And then it stops. And starts again. It will never stop apparantly. 

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[247krp]

— Rejoice, little lambs! We have recovered our own Kim Hoseok, spotted prancing about in the Southwest Side. I remember seeing him with The Musketeers back in high school, but I’m not here to spill yesterday’s tea. So straight to the rundown: can you say secretive and loyal? Apparently now he spends time as a personal bodyguard and a university student, and keeps skeletons buried at Geumsang apartment complex, A105. But those won’t stay hidden for long, if you and I have any say on it. Welcome back, Apollo; we missed you so.

In case you don’t remember the devil’s name, here’s to refresh your memory:

Party, sex, hangover, school - repeat. Back in high school Hoseok, then known as Lee Wonho, was apart of the Musketeers and never missed a chance to party, to find himself someone to warm his bed and naturally drink heavily over what was healthy. Back then only a small amount of his life was reserved for studying or family, the latter never bothering him either. After all his father was busy building an empire together with his mother, thus why would they notice their son experimenting with alcohol and picking up smoking. In the end one could ask - does he even have parents? Only three people lived under one roof, connected by vows and blood. Nothing more or less. Thus Wonho found his family in the Musketeers, found affection with the bed companions of both sexes and naturally tried to keep his head above water at school. High school was mostly fun and games, where every night there was a reason to party and have fun with his mates - worrying about the future seemed like too much stress. Once sober and done with those boring classes, he would hit the swimming pool and gym - after all his looks were used to find himself sexual partners and a healthy body meant he would survive the partying.  Picking up the image of a rather good looking fuckboy, he didn’t care what someone else thought of him as long as his friends knew the truth. Even then his loyalty to the other Musketeers was a rather odd addition to his image, yet still used against him to paint the male as a simple follower. Whatever suited the gossipers. This way he would never answer to what was going on in his family, his home life a cold Antarctica where the only affection he was shown came from his mother and even that rarely. Being a Musketeer and fuckboy was easier.

Nevermind the memory lane though, the present is always the ripest fruit:

Last year in his masters, studying the architectural history and planning solutions of Korea, Japan and China, Kim Hoseok is the personal bodyguard to the famous model Lee Hanbyeol. Having cleaned up his act, the male now hides his Cheongnam past and hopes it never comes to life, as it is a very black spot on his life and he rather not have any memories of it. Mother sixth feet under ground, father in New York City with his lover - in the end it was easier to build himself a new life with new friends and a healthier way of living. Known on campus as a promising talent in his respective field and a professors darling, he enjoys his work for Lee Hanbyeol and daily focus to show his loyalty. To him who he used to be died the day his mother did and now proudly carrying his given name shows the world he has changed. Kim Hoseok is now a healthy member of society, working a job he finds enjoyment in and studying what is dear to his heart. A wonderful new restart he doesn’t want to lose. Especially since his new life did come with a price he never expected and doesn’t know to resent yet.

But we are nothing if not open books – my job is to ensure you get to the best pages:

i. Do not think that what I was in the past I am now. Do not assume you know someone, when they were occupied with growing up and finding their spot in the world. Do not feel disappointed that I don’t care for hurt feelings of the past. Do not push your own feelings onto me. That man does not exist anymore and lays buried six feet under ground, embracing his mother.

ii. With the first warm night of spring Kim Hoseok was born into an old money family - his mother hadn’t worked a day in her life and father comfortably sat on the board of his wives fathers company. He himself came from a wealthy family, yet didn’t show interest for the company and chose a less stress filled life.  With all the time in the world they dedicated themselves to raising their child, however cracks were there and deepened even if they lost themselves in childcare. A child had been used as the final glue to keep together a facade of lies - with every passing years the cracks became more defined and Hoseok couldn’t erase them. They tried, wished and prayed - even saw the passing of Hoseok’s grandfather on the fathers side as a chance to work together  to save everything, but no use. Some people aren’t meant to be together.

iii. Such discord worked itself in Hoseoks life and once high school started he felt without a family. Yet his friends Chanyeol and Wonshik were the two who slowly seemed to give him the support needed to feel like he had someone, who cared about him and made sure he was okay. Add to that money could buy ones way into any party, into any bed and any heart. One night affection seemed good enough, worked long enough - like a drug that you didn’t realize you were on. High school was wild, fun and freeing - true family life was eclipsed by it and happily ignored. Hoseok’s parents grew apart, grew distant and nearly estranged - naturally he didn’t fail to notice and silently ignored it, trying to live his own life to the best of his abilities. The boy was close to his mother, disconnected from his father. Being close to someone is the true poison. With the end of Cheongnam nearing the scandal around Wonshik happened and Hoseok wasn’t man enough to stand by him, seemingly out of pure jealousy and yet the truth was worse. Lies sometimes seem better covers. Being secretive was better than handling public attention. He had been brought into the cold hard reality, which he had been trying to ignore and push aside for so long - yet here it was staring at him with cold dead eyes. Only through accident had he found out that his mother was deathly ill, had been for the whole time he partied away his problems and barely spent enough time with her. One last summer had been given to her and that he spent with her, every single waking moment of it. She told him about her life, her dreams and passions which had to take a back seat because her father had held her back. She showed him her love for art history, for architecture and the greats of the past - under her watchful gaze he fell in love with it. Just like she had so many years ago. Those three months she smiled so angelically and with said calm peaceful smile she passed away in her sons arms. In pieces and heart broken he buried his mother.

iv. Unable to cope with the pain he bought a ticket to Lisbon, packed what needed and left a note to his father. He fled the life, friends and loved ones he knew. So much now to hold as a secret, to digest and understand - with the current image impossible to do. A whole year away, a whole year of self discovery and heart ache. A year to change, to shed off his former bad boy image and in silence, one summer early morning, return to his home country from Finland. To his luck people forgot, moved on and were wrapped up with new scandals.

v. What welcomed him? A heavy blow out of the dark. Hoseoks father told his son after one or twenty too many shots about his double life, about how little of the money was still there and how he had hated being married to that woman. How he had a boyfriend in Busan for the past fifteen years, found himself in drag and for the past year been saving up to leave this small minded country. How he was no longer wishing to be seen as Hoseok father, wanting to disappear and start fresh in NY as ‘Lady LaBoombayah!’. After everything entered his grandfather mothers side - a stern man and told his grandson that from now on he hopes to see a proper young lad. Going on about how the families had made sure the good for nothing father for the young male wouldn’t spend every dime and was only left in the belief there wasn’t much left. He finally expressed his wish to have a more proper heir to the money and business, a smart young man who knows what the word ‘loyalty’ meant. Hoseok agreed and they made a deal - in respect to his mother he would study what she never could and live a quiet life with comfort. He would not be asked to step up as heir as long as his grandfather was alive and kicking.

vi. Autumn came and he entered Seoul National University, studying the beautiful architectural history of China, Japan and Korea. Naturally with the connections of his grandfather it was easy to get in, but a lot to work to stay and show he was worth the money spent on him. To keep up the rouse around his persona of a university student on a simple scholarship, Hoseok entered training to become a bodyguard and use his athletic talent for money. Balancing both was hard, of course, but he pushed himself to manage and not let himself slip back into the Cheongnam days.vii. It was winter when he met Lee Hanbyeol, a cat like model in need of a bodyguard and Hoseok eager to prove himself too the job. Loyal, on time and ready to throw himself in front of the model, Hoseok found himself enjoying the job and his employer even though it was at times hard to fully understand him.

viii. On the last leg of finishing his masters and debating on going on to get his professors title, Hoseok is truly a changed man compared to the days of Cheongnam. Barely drinks, never smokes and his head in the game the male still is showing his grandfather he would not disgrace the memory of his mother and be worth the investment. It seems like such a simple life to whomever views it from the outside, but the broad shouldered often smiling made hides secrets in his heart no one should never know. Try as he might he is apart of this circle of Cheongnam high school and shall never shake it off.

[recentanimenews]

Sinking Our Fangs into Code Vein for Some Delicious Action

  When I saw the announcement trailer for Code Vein being unveiled, I thought: "Wow, this game might totally be my jam!" But what I mostly heard from others watching the same trailer was: "Wow, it's anime Dark Souls!" It seems overdone lately to compare games to Dark Souls, to the point that the comparison is starting to not mean anything anymore. If a game is difficult, it’s Dark Souls inspired. If a game is dark fantasy, it’s Dark Souls. Co-op or Antagonistic online interactions? Dark Souls. Suffice to say, the comparison to From Software’s popular Souls series is starting to become meaningless, so when I heard people say that “Code Vein is anime Dark Souls”, I wasn’t really sure what that meant before getting my hands on it. 

Code Vein’s first impression on players is an almost ridiculous amount of character customization. The amount of options available sound almost comical when put into some sort of list, so let’s just say you can choose from things like pupil shapes, sclera colors, hair lengths, tiny hats, how many individual tiny hats you want to wear, your gas mask, and other things. Though, the only real disappointment is that body size isn’t a slider; your character just goes from ‘unhealthily skinny’ to ‘approximation of normal human weight’. Also, ladies, you’re gonna have some big… assets. A player could spend literal hours in here, and the game seems to note that maybe you want to change things up after you start playing, as you’re able to change your appearance at will in the central hub of the game once you unlock it. There have been a lot of people posting recreations of anime characters and others in Code Vein, and honestly the creation aspect is perhaps one of the best parts of the experience, really letting you spend your time crafting a character that is uniquely yours. Unfortunately, the game… sort of forgets that this is who the protagonist is not too long after. 

Players take their newly awakened (and amnesiac) main character out into the destroyed world of Code Vein, a place where Revenants are constantly trying to secure their survival after a calamity, with Revenants that succumb to the parasites within them morphing into dangerous Fallen. The world of Code Vein is in shambles, and your character may hold the key to unlocking a way forward… If you can survive long enough to do so.

The first thing that struck me with Code Vein is that there is A LOT of talking. Like, a lot. Within the first 5 hours of the game, I felt like I had spent most of it listening to people talk, walking my way through memory fragments, and seeing things happen without taking a lot of agency in making those things happen. This, personally, was where I first started seeing the flaws of “It’s like Dark Souls” falling apart; Souls games have always operated on a very specific story aesthetic, where the character has arrived too late, things are already falling apart, and there’s really nothing left to save, just an attempt at piecing together what was happening before whatever calamity befell everything around you. Code Vein is different: There are a lot of characters still kicking and talking, and at times your silent protagonist fades into the background as the other NPCs talk to one another, as if you weren’t even there.

My first real disconnect with the game happened after the first major boss, which was followed by numerous cutscenes that made my character feel like an accessory to what was happening; if Code Vein were a directed action game where I was asked to play as Louis, an NPC you meet early on who becomes integral to the story, I think I would have been less disconnected to what was happening than how things were presented.

In fact, this might sum up my biggest complaint about Code Vein: you don’t ever really get to feel “alone”, unless you go out of your way to do so. The game works off of a sort of “buddy” system, where an NPC ally follows you around during the game’s action sequences, fighting enemies with you and tagging along. The problem is that they seem far better at doing things than you are, charging headfirst into waves of enemies and usually clearing out mobs far faster and with more style than your character is capable of. This changes a bit as the game goes on, where instead you end up babysitting your NPC companion into not dying because they can’t seem to read enemy patterns and behavior, but early on the game very much feels like you’re playing a supporting role to the NPC, a problem that presented itself to me in the first major boss fight. 

Without spoiling anything, the boss fight felt… hectic. The boss’s behavior was almost totally random, with no discernable patterns, because it would change wildly based on whether characters were near it or not, and would switch between targeting myself and my AI companion seemingly at will, leaving sometimes little room to react or block. Eventually, I had to adopt a more long range fighting style, simply so I could stay far enough away from the enemy to have it focus on my companion, then lure it towards me while they would recover. This system eventually worked out, but it felt far less satisfying than I had wanted it to be, essentially making me change my entire playstyle and weapon loadout to complete rather than going at it with whatever I had and figuring out a strategy from there. I even tried fighting the boss solo, but that proved to be an even worse nightmare, as the AI seems coded to work best (as in, most fair) against multiple targets, and became ridiculously oppressive against me by myself. Attempting a later boss using the online multiplayer had a different issue: bosses became far too easy, as they couldn’t seem to handle 3 attackers, 2 of which were human and less prescribed than the AI NPC. 

This was when I realized I had to make a decision that would affect how I would look at Code Vein: It was a more action-oriented version of God Eater, which happens to share numerous staff members with Code Vein. 

Areas are bland, and opening shortcuts really just allows you to avoid having to walk through them again, but almost every area is a straight line of sorts, meaning there really isn’t much reason to backtrack to begin with unless hunting particular enemies for crafting essences or grinding. There is no diverging path: you simply go in the direction the game points you in, and work from there. Map exploration feels less important to exploring the game, and more important to just figuring out where to go next, or what specific item or location you were attempting to reach might be. Unless you were totally reckless, your AI partner will ensure you stay alive (unless, as the end of the game starts to invert, you’re racing to keep THEM alive), meaning that brute forcing your way through Code Vein is also totally possible, making the game seem fairly easy. At times this is nice, as Code Vein is certainly an accessible action game; players can somewhat coast to victory on the support of their NPC partners, and can even adopt supportive playstyles by equipping Blood Codes that allow them to buff and heal party members, and the limited online functionality allows you to call for help from other players (if you can find any; in my time playing I was only able to get this to work twice) to add a second partner to the mix. 

This wouldn’t be so bad if the world of Code Vein was interesting to explore, but it never really feels like it is. It also adopts the “storytelling” method of Souls games in that many items fill in lore gaps and info dumps, but this feels superfluous at times because despite how much narrative the game throws at you, it never really tells you enough information to know what anything that’s happening means. While your character is an amnesiac, it takes that issue too literally, as characters will begin talking about events and important ideas without ever taking time to clue your character in on what any of that stuff means until perhaps hours later (or you discovered it on your own from some sort of item description). 

Code Vein gives you a huge amount of options and customization (25 Blood Codes, all with different stats, abilities, and specialities), allowing you to tailor your approach to enemies and areas in whatever way suits that particular challenge best. The story makes a big deal out of your character having the ability to be this blank slate, and the game seems to push you into taking advantage of this in terms of gameplay too, without outright punishing you for only using one approach. As you level up, the stat specializations and changes come from swapping Blood Codes. While you can change them on the fly in the pause menu, I will say that I wished it were possible to have hot keyed at least two of them, making it possible to change during battle more seamlessly than just mashing the Option button to get to my menu, change all my gear and set up, and then go back to the fight.

Early on, it’s hard to appreciate the Blood Code system, as you don’t have a lot of access to things that let you take advantage of the variety they offer. You start with very basic gear and start finding pieces along the way, and I found myself prioritizing fast attacks with wide arcs to damage or variety until about midway into the game, where it started to become obvious that my best approach wasn’t a “Jack of All Trades” method, but instead creating and maintaining gear that would suit particular circumstances best. While you could very likely brute force your way through Code Vein with only one or two Blood Codes, the game really seems to expect you to change your build constantly; the game encourages you to make a character that can change on the fly when a new problem rears its head. 

The game has you fighting hordes of enemies and occasional bosses, meaning the combat has to be faster paced and also a bit more hectic. Combat can be a bit slow to keep up, though, as you don’t really have a lot of combat variety in your combos, and while you can change to various weapons and styles, there are really only a few basic types of weapons in the game. The amount of buffs and abilities you can use are where the real customization comes in, but it combat can still feel a bit rote and clunky as you mash the same buttons over and over again to mow down mobs, and using abilities like Drain to increase your Ichor count, or special attack abilities, can become costly as Ichor tends to be a small resource, and your AI partner will occasionally steal your kills, meaning your flashy attack not only doesn’t work, but wasted resources. 

While it may not sound like it, I enjoyed Code Vein quite a bit! One of the best parts about it is that it is a far more accessible version of the “Souls” style games that everyone knows and loves, while also being a bit more like God Eater in the way it presents some of the gameplay in a far more accessible way. For example, while your healing is limited, you and your partner can use a skill that shares health between you, and you have some window of time to use this skill before a character dies completely. While exploring an area, I got attacked by a huge enemy, and their attack knocked me out; I assumed I was done for, but Luis actually revived me using his skill, allowing me to roll to safety, recuperate, and then team up with him to take down the enemy. During our fight with the boss, I was able to do the same, sacrificing my own health to heal him and keep him in the fight, allowing us to take the boss down on what was essentially our last ditch effort to do so. In these little moments, Code Vein really shines, letting you feel cool and do cool things with the character you spent so much time creating.

And while the action is a bit stale, the flow of combat can feel fun and cinematic, especially as you unlock more complicated abilities and Blood Codes. Code Vein operates on a Rule of Cool, sacrificing challenge at times in order to make sure that you feel like your character is a badass, doing cool, flashy attacks and decimating hordes of enemies. This doesn’t always work, but when it does, it feels fulfilling and enjoyable. The game rewards your investment into your character, allowing you multiple opportunities to take pictures of your character, posing them at various stations in your home base, and has flashy cinematic sequences during certain combat attacks, that let you look as cool as you hoped your character would after all that time in character creation. I appreciated this, but some may not, as it does tend to make the game feel easy and somewhat unchallenging; even though I butted heads against the first boss a few times, after that, the game was fairly smooth sailing, with the occasional death coming as a result of trial and error more than specific, unique challenge. The game has a LOT of bosses, so if you enjoy big, cinematic battles, you’ll find a lot of them here, although ironically I felt that the second boss in the game was one of the hardest, with many of the bosses having similar, repeated attack types: AOE, tracking magic, big 360 swings, and somewhat erratic patterns. This meant that while the bosses were quite different in aesthetics, they have somewhat similar movesets with some slight variation; the second boss, who uses poison, is something of an outlier because it hits you at a point in the game where you have limited resources and haven’t seen a status ailment yet; the rest of the bosses feel more “fair” in that regard. 

Code Vein feels a bit like an RPG in terms of story; characters talk a lot, and the story is the main motivator to continue the game, but there are sometimes a few speed bumps to this. While the game’s characters push a sense of narrative urgency, nothing ever feels overly urgent or dire, and the focus on reclaiming memories (both your own and of NPCs) makes the game feel like most of the bad, challenging, or dramatic events have all happened in the past, leaving many of the big character reveals to feel somewhat inconsequential. Even when I finally learned the big secret behind my own character and her companion Io, I couldn’t really say I was very surprised (the game kind of telegraphs everything), nor did I find the game treating these revelations as anything big; if the characters in the game weren’t very concerned about it, I didn’t see any reason I should be. I did, though, enjoy the various characters that I met and can’t say I didn’t like any of them, but it just felt like I wasn’t on the edge of my seat, worried that something bad will happen to anyone.   

The game forges a style of game that centers on the idea of reclamation and forward momentum. Your character’s amnesiac past isn’t that important, because what matters in Code Vein is moving forward. Even as characters regain their memories, they react to them in a way that centers on what that means to them now, rather than what it meant to them then. If you're itching for a fun action game with a colorful anime-styled world, Code Vein is the game for you! The game will never ask too much of you, and rewards short play sessions quite well, meaning that you can take your time and enjoy the story and world that Code Vein have to offer, even if the challenge isn’t particularly there. Personally, while I’m quite finished with the game, I do still find myself turning it back on to mess with the character creator, posing to take screenshots and occasionally doing some small adventuring with my partners for gear I didn’t complete, while trying to occasionally find multiplayer sessions to join and help others.

  REVIEW ROUNDUP

+ Aesthetics and visuals are great, with character creation being a big high point.

+ Action is fun and fast, and develops more as you get more Blood Codes.

+ While not groundbreaking, the story is very enjoyable.

+/- Difficulty is somewhat on the easy side; accessibility is nice, but self imposed challenges (like playing solo) become far too difficult due to game balance.

+/- NPC ally mechanic can be somewhat odd, as it shifts wildly between holding your hand and babysitting fragile CPU partners who can’t read patterns. 

- Online is a bit boring and hard to manage, and not many people seem to make use of it.

- Exploration is kind of dull; maps are generally straight lines with the occasional loop.

  Does the vampire curse of Code Vein call to you? Do you also spend hours in character customization like I do? Let us know what you think of the game in the comments! 

    ----

Nicole is a features writer and editor for Crunchyroll. Known for punching dudes in Yakuza games on her Twitch channel while professing her love for Majima. She also has a blog, Figuratively Speaking. Follow her on Twitter: @ellyberries

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[newssplashy]

Opinion: When camping comes with a skyline view

NEW YORK — It was opening weekend for glamping on Governors Island, and things were a bit rocky. First, there were the rocks. Thanks to weeks of alternating torrential rain and baking sun, the grass hadn’t come in, creating a lunar landscape around the tents.

But once the music stopped at 9:30 and the blazing sun dipped behind the Jersey City skyline, the magic began.

Thousands of lights in lower Manhattan twinkled like constellations, and the glowing green Statue of Liberty waved goodbye as hordes of wine-buzzed, pastel-clad revelers raced for the last ferry home.

The glampers were alone.

“The views are fantastic,” said Damon Willmott, a Park Sloper who had booked two tents for his family of four. “It’s great somebody’s done this in New York.” The Willmotts go camping often, but driving outside the city and packing up all that gear adds a level of difficulty and stress. After the eight-minute ferry ride to their campsite, they simply plopped down their bags, turned off their phones and played a game of Scrabble. Willmott smiled and nodded. “It felt good to disconnect.”

Joining the Willmotts at Collective Retreats on the island’s south end were scores of other campers in 37 tents ranging in price from $220 to $650 ($75 tents are available on Tuesday nights, and some tents go for as much as $850, depending on demand). Some were roasting marshmallows in the fire pit, some eating $120 prix fixe meals in the permanent Three Peaks lodge; others played beanbag toss.

As it grew later, glampers wandered off to bed (not sleeping bags, but actual beds), and their white tents lit up one by one, triangles incandescent against the dark harbor. The crowd was diverse: a family of eight from Pennsylvania whose matriarch had grown up on Governors Island as an Army brat; a lesbian couple both originally from New Jersey who had never camped before; another couple from Montreal. But most were from New York City.

“It’s a nice way to explore a part of the city you might not otherwise visit,” said Dawn Hood, a first-time camper from Inwood. “I’m always looking to get into something new.” Even if that something new is just plain nature.

There was birdsong in the air, and the gentle lapping of the waves, but there was no mistaking this for a camp in the Adirondacks. Every 15 minutes the Staten Island Ferry glided by, and airplanes descended steadily toward Newark Airport. It wasn’t perfect nature, but for Hood and the other glampers, it was enough to let them slip into a collective state of solitude.

Setting up camp on the edges of the city itself or just outside its limits, New Yorkers are seeking a way out. Looking to escape their screens, traffic, messed-up subways, their bosses and national politics, many are finding solace in a nearby tent or cabin.

According to a report by Kampgrounds of America, 2.6 million more U.S. households camped last year than in 2016. A major reason was to relieve stress. Nearly all millennials surveyed (93 percent) said they would like to try camping this year, many gravitating toward glamping.

New Yorkers are no different. Those who might never have camped five years ago are heading into the wild. But this time with ready-made tents with beds inside.

Hard-core campers may scoff at glamping (“glamour camping,” that is, or wimping, as it’s sometimes called), and even glamping outfitters dislike the term. But most people agree getting back to nature — no matter how comfortable — is better than not going at all. Recent studies in Finland show that walking as little as 20 minutes in the woods helps significantly reduce stress. Forest bathing, popular in Japan, has been known to reduce stress as well and has been catching on here and in other countries.

“Whatever’s going to help you commune with nature and have a great experience, I’m all for it,” said Kevin Rosenberg, who runs Gear to Go Outfitters, an online equipment-rental and guide service.

Rosenberg, who spent years in the military, has extensive survival training and employs veterans as guides, does not glamp. When he camps, he goes deep into the wilderness without an air mattress or a stove. But he doesn’t look down on the glampers.

“Protecting the environment is very important to me,” said Rosenberg, who once ran his company out of a Brooklyn storefront but now lives upstate. “The more people bond with nature, the more they want to protect it. Whatever form it takes, it’s fine with me as long as what they’re doing is responsible. You might as well be comfortable and enjoy it.”

A number of New York companies have recently emerged to make the trek into the outdoors as seamless as possible: Collective Retreats, Tentrr, Getaway and Terra Glamping all provide cushy accommodations to help a growing wave of indoorsy people become outdoorsy.

Tentrr, for instance, was created with the New York apartment dweller in mind. “The person who doesn’t want to bring equipment, wants an amazing outdoor experience but doesn’t really know where to go,” said Baxter Townsend, public relations director at the company.

Mike D’Agostino, a former investment banker who founded Tentrr three years ago after a series of disastrous personal camping trips, has it down to a science. Potential campers visit the website, note a series of preferences (for example: hike in, views, forest, fishing) and are matched with possible sites and hosts outside the city.

Each campsite — they’re all on private land — is equipped with a durable canvas tent on a raised platform with a memory foam mattress, a Brazilian hardwood table, a camp box for dry storage and benches. A camp toilet, Adirondack chairs, a fire ring, sun shower and 24/7 customer service are part of the package, which averages around $144 a night.

For D’Agostino, the lightning-bolt moment came on a weekend camping trip with his wife at Stokes State Forest in New Jersey, crowded together with dozens of other campers.

“We were literally across the car track from 40 people having a Wiccan full-moon party dressed in these white robes,” he said. At one point, a nude woman claiming to have seen a UFO ran through their campsite. “We thought, we have to get out of here.” They left early the next morning to head back to Manhattan and saw a beautiful farm on the side of the road. “I said to my wife, ‘Imagine if we could go camping there.’ ”

Cue the lightning bolt.

Tentrr has 500 campsites throughout the Northeast, many on struggling farms that can use the extra income. (The company takes a 20 percent commission on every campsite reserved.)

Nearly half those using the service have never been camping before, D’Agostino said. But even experienced campers have taken to Tentrr.

Kevin Simonson, a Brooklynite who runs a digital marketing firm, has hiked the Pacific Crest Trail and experienced his fair share of backcountry camping. His girlfriend, Katie Kapler, however, had never been camping, and Simonson didn’t want to scare her off.

“I looked at Tentrr as training wheels,” said Kapler, the founder of CourseHorse, an internet marketplace for classes. The couple have now used Tentrr three times — with their dog, Ollie, who had never been off leash before and has now encountered deer up close. “He was like, ‘What is this sensation? Oh, it’s freedom!'” Kapler said.

Even the most serious campers have to start somewhere. Growing up on Long Island, Gear to Go’s Rosenberg never hiked or camped — nor had anyone he knew. It wasn’t until he joined the ROTC that he slept under the stars for the first time.

His motto is never to sell anything to a camper that is unnecessary, like a $3 enamel camping mug with a new logo on it that sells for $20, or a “repurposed antique” hatchet with a freshly painted handle at double the price of a regular hatchet.

He said he finds it amusing that so many young men feel the need to take a hatchet camping. “I’ve never even carried a hatchet into the woods,” he said, laughing. “But God bless them.”

The cliché of the bearded urban lumberjack throwing hatchets in a bar instead of darts may come from a more ominous place than simple trendiness. Zach Denes, manager of Hatchet Outdoor Supply Co. in Brooklyn, said he believes the New York City camping bug is spreading thanks to President Donald Trump’s stance on national parks, his push for more mining and drilling and concessions to polluting corporations.

“I think it’s a backlash,” Denes said. “It’s becoming much more hip to camp, to hike, especially around here in Brooklyn. Our current administration is boosting that for everybody.”

There are plenty of camping options around the city. There is Terra Glamping, an upscale glamping company that’s not afraid to use the G-word.

It was one of two pilot glamping programs at Fort Tilden in the Rockaways and is one of several vendors submitting proposals to return next summer. The company is also considering glamping programs at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden and at Coney Island. “We can set our tents up anywhere,” said Rebecca Martin, the company’s founder. Most are up in Kingston at the Hutton Brickyards on the Hudson, and start at $250 a night.

Amenities include memory foam mattresses, down comforters, lanterns, Turkish towels and robes, luxury bath products — and pastries in the morning.

“Personally I hate camping and getting in a sleeping bag on the ground,” Martin said.

Collective Governors Island, one of the higher-end glamping experiences in the area, offers private bathrooms as big as a Manhattan apartment, custom-made furniture, 1,500-thread-count sheets, housekeeping and three meals a day.

Camp Rockaway offered a no-frills glamping experience at Fort Tilden in Queens last autumn; it will be setting up a dozen tents this year in the courtyard of the art deco Riis Bathhouse in Rockaway through Halloween. Though prices at that site hover around $200 a night, the company is also applying for space at Fort Tilden again, to set up lower-end accommodations starting at $49.

“We’re trying to take the glam out of glamping,” said Kent Johnson, who runs the company. He said the big selling point was the communal campfire, where people from all walks of life can roast marshmallows and chat. “It’s really an antidote to cellphone addiction.”

Not all back-to-nature experiences have to do with spending time with other people. A couple of years ago, a Harvard Business School graduate named Jon Staff was growing weary of the internet startup life. He and his friend Pete Davis were seeking an escape from their hectic lives in Boston.

“We were tired of the city, tired of email, our friends, of everything,” said Staff, who now lives in Carroll Gardens. “We were burned out and wanted to go to the woods. We couldn’t afford a vacation far away and thought maybe we could build a tiny house and stick it in the woods where we could escape.” Having grown up in Minnesota, where small cabins are common, Staff didn’t think it was exactly a new concept. But the personal escape soon became his latest startup — Getaway.

The company builds modern-looking one-room cabins, typically around 160 square feet, with a lock box for cellphones, as well as a larder of basic provisions like pasta, sauce and popcorn. There’s also a list of things to do, like watch the constellations slowly turn. There’s a comfortable bed, a stove and running water, a fire pit and a few books to read.

All the houses have landlines for emergencies, but guests have used the phones in less desperate situations. “We would get all these calls,” Staff said. “'We got in the house. It’s beautiful. Can you please send someone over to make the campfire?'” So Getaway now provides step-by-step instructions for starting a fire.

Getaway has 75 tiny houses in the Northeast, outside New York, Boston and Washington. Staff said he got a letter recently from a woman who hated her job, whose husband hated his job, who said she cried a lot. Two days in the tiny house, she said, had helped them escape their worries.

“We’re not solving that problem, and we don’t pretend to,” Staff said. “But the idea is that you can literally pull the rip cord and go to the woods and not have to think about anything.”

At the moment there are 13 Getaway houses outside New York, all in the Catskills, but Staff is working on expanding. Last summer, Getaway took part in a pilot project at Staten Island’s Fort Wadsworth, setting up three houses that were all booked.

The National Park Service, which runs Fort Wadsworth, said it is expanding the offerings for campers to try to appeal to all kinds of visitors. The tiny Getaway houses were set up on USS North Carolina Road, at the foot of the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, amid black locust trees, with beach access and a view of the harbor.

Offerings this coming summer might include tiny houses again, tents or glamping, said Emina Sendich, deputy superintendent of Gateway National Recreation Area. “The public doesn’t realize what a gem this place is,” she said. On a recent visit, humans were joined by a possum, a woodpecker, deer and a woodchuck.

“I’ve spent the night down here, and you really do feel like you’re out there and you’re camping,” she said. “You’ve got the campfire going. You’re barbecuing. You’ve got your family with you.”

Fort Wadsworth is part of Gateway National Park, which also includes Fort Tilden, as well as Sandy Hook in New Jersey and Floyd Bennett Field in Brooklyn. Camping has been permitted at Fort Wadsworth since 2012, and regular campsites can be reserved for $30 a night. They attract international tourists looking for affordable travel options as well as first-time campers who grew up in New York City.

“We get lots of local people camping,” said Brian Feeney, the park’s Staten Island unit manager. “One woman said to me, ‘It’s my first time, so if it doesn’t work out I’m going home tonight.'” He smiled and shrugged, staring out at New York Harbor, the skyline in the distance. “You can’t do that at Yosemite.”

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.

Helene Stapinski © 2018 The New York Times

source https://www.newssplashy.com/2018/07/opinion-when-camping-comes-with-skyline.html

[vile-allure]

Dear Mother

I do not have too many memories from being a child. I am not sure if this is due to emotional suppression, a bad memory, or just not thinking hard enough. I do however have a few distinct memories of places and feelings. I remember feeling like the burden of your continued connection to my father when i was about 5ish years old and you lived in that apartment complex off of Miller Ave across from the lumber mill. I remember we did not get too see you too often, but that whenever we were over you were unhappy. You would complain about our father (the memories involve trevor and i). There is a picture of trevor and I in front of a Christmas Tree smiling like there was not a care in the world. But I can remember the emotions i felt. I was scared, scared that you felt so sad. I was also sad, because I didn’t like to see my mother so distraught. I was also confused because I was too little to really understand anything. Few positive memories continued between. There was a lot of time where i was left with Suki, who was paid to take care of me, and did so. But I remember being very young and having you tell me very vulgar things about Suki and my fathers relations. Things no parent should tell their kid. I remember going to Virginia for Christmas one year and having a lovely time. I also remember all the terrible christmases in Mill Valley that entailed fights and inevitable anger for someone feeling that no one was grateful. I would like to highlight the behaviors, as illustrated by direct quotes, that are unacceptable to me and have resulted in my augmented state of mental illness. 

I remember being bribed by both my parents. I was given money as a token of love. The only memories i really have with my mother were when we went shopping. Thus my mind made a correlation between mother-daughter time and shopping. It was not that I was using her for her money, but that it was the only activity we were familiar with. This goes on, and I am later ridiculed and yelled at. I was accused of being a selfish bitch and just using my mother for her money. Ex, on November 19 i recieved this in a text messaged, “Don't ever ask me to pay for hair that was way over $200″. This requires some context. Weeks before, my mother told me my roots were growing out and offered to pay for my highlights. I declined because i said I would rather have the money for more important things, she replied with hair being of high importance. This resulted in a few weeks later, me getting my hair color treated and cut. I was offered this service but then was yelled at for doing exactly that. The mixed messages there are not of high importance but it is a recent example of this pattern of giving money/objects then getting upset and using that as something to get mad over.  

After any sort of fight my mother and I had, we would normally just ignore each other for a few days and then things would resume their normal states. Sometimes after a really big fight, one of us would send an apology message such as this message sent on September 6 2017, “I love you. sorry im a bitch. I have been so frustrated and miserable not being able to walk. I have felt like nobody cared all going to burning man and leaving me helpless. I love you more than anything”. Even though this is an apology it is filled with excuses, but an apology is an apology and i will accept that. In all honesty, after certain behaviors this sort of apology is not enough. It is superficial and only scratches the surface of the issue. In order for real reconciliation, they must both acknowledge their wrongdoings, discuss the situation, and understand how it could be better solved in the future. This should result in a gradual change in behavior and an overall better understanding of the other person. However between my mother and I’s relationship, the “sorry” is short and sweet and we have just brushed off the dust and moved on, leaving much to fester and add up for later. 

The relationship between my mother and I is very complex. This is due to many factors. One of which being that I, the daughter, feel as if I am the only one willing to put up with my mother. In my opinion, she has pushed away everyone in her life, on accident or not. Her loneliness is often displayed in anger. With the recent experience of her foot breaking and the devastating disappearance/loss of her cats. I was told since a child that I have to love my parents because they are the only ones i have. I was told that no matter what, the children in the hood will always love their parents, this doesn’t matter how many beatings they had received. As well as many other children, no matter how they were treated, they were taught to respect and love their parents. This was drilled into me. I never thought it was an option for me to disconnect, even if it was for the good of my own mental health. In high school I had a very embarrassing experience of my mom showing up to cheer practice and pulling me aside and yelling at me right next to all the cheerleaders in my squad. She yelled at me, telling me it was my fault that dad was kicking her out of the house and that i had to do something about it. That it was my responsibility to fix it and if i didn't she would kill herself. I had so many witness but she to this day will not admit that she did that, and that it was wrong. On September 30 2017 my mother send me this message “hillary hates her mom and has told everyone everywhere she goes. You made me suffer and watched when I was alone”. This message, in my opinion, is directed towards the situation at which occurred after the cheerleading incident. My father was going to be out of town for a while and I was scared to be alone with my mother, thus my father helped me set up a plan. I ended up staying with Jessee Hinton’s family for the week. I did not tell them much of anything about my family. But rumors had spread due to her outbreak at practice, and the rumors had warped like in a game of telephone. I did not intentionally go out and tell the world that my mother was terrible. I confided in very few people the horrors of my home life. Yet my mother seemed to think I was an open book and expressed her behavior to everyone, this was probably out of embarrassment because she did not want people to know how she emotionally abused her child. 

Ever since I can remember, I have had thoughts of suicide. I have had thoughts of death, self-harm, thoughts of self-depricacy. I can remember back to being in around 6th grade and going to Park Schools new play structure and purposely swinging myself off the bars and falling on my back in hopes of hurting myself. I wanted to feel pain because I wanted to escape the pain in my head. Around this same time I witnessed my sister holding tissues to her wrist in the front seat in front of 7/11 on Miller Ave, crying hysterically and looking me in the eyes. I remember my mother repeatedly telling me she wanted to go home, go be with her mother, who had died long ago. She would tell me her intricate plans to kill herself. I remember she made an attempt when I was a freshman in high school in 2009. My sister had found her OD and she was put on a 51/50. I remember how ashamed, scared, disappointed, and betrayed I felt. This woman, my mother, always told me I was all she had and If i wasn’t around she would kill herself. This woman would say that she loved me so much and that i was her only child. But this same woman would also go on to say things such as the most recent incident on November 2 “ I only wish i could hang myself and have dad and trevor have the pleasure of seeing me”. As this is not a threat, there were many purposed threats that were sent in a way to manipulate my emotions, for whatever reason, I have no idea. I remember, it must’ve been when I was a junior in High School, she was very upset. As was i. I cannot recall the reason for this upset, but I was scared to be around her so i was downstairs in my room trying not to fuel the fire. She came bombarding into my room, gun in hand. She was belligerent, and not making any sense. She was very distraught and upset. She placed the gun next to her head and threatened to shoot, and then pointed that same gun at me saying I should go with her. Many other words were exchanged, but this resulted in me calling the police because I was scared for my own safety, as for hers. As the police arrived, the gun disappeared. The police searched the house and were not able to locate the gun, my mother somehow convinced them that I was on drugs, i begged them to let me pee in a cup to prove to them I was completely sober. I remember them flashing a flashlight in my eyes and saying my pupils were dilating strangely. This was due to my commencement of welbutrin which had weird effects on me, but they did not believe me. I was brought to the station in handcuffs, they wrote me up for falsely using the 911 system. They thought I was just on drugs and trying to get my mom in trouble or something of the sort. but no I was scared of this woman, I did not know what she would do. The way she lied to the cops was disgusting. She later told me it was just dads gun, and that it wasn't even functional. This experience still haunts me until this day. I have felt depressed for as long as I can remember, and having two female role models in my young life that demonstrated very unhealthy coping mechanisms really altered my perception of mental illness. I did not want to be like them. But i felt haunted. I was going mad. i don't know what it was. i would wake up crying, i would hide in closets to keep the thoughts from overpowering me. the thoughts that when I was younger, mistook for voices, but to be completely honest they might have been voices because boy were they strong and malignant. I ripped my arms apart in all directions with razors, trying to escape my internal pain. I did this because I saw my sister do it and thought it was ok. I overdosed on pills, I tried to hang a noose in my closet, I wanted to die so bad. And to this day, the thoughts still enter my head. I am not well. I have a long journey ahead of me before I reach my destination of happiness and gratitude for life. I however can not reach that if I am constantly being berated by the person who I thought was my best friend and mother. This message was sent on the 19th of November 2017 “You find a new way everyday to say bitch i hate you!”  This woman must not know what I go through. She must not understand how much I put up with. How much she has said to me, that has ripped me to my core. That has fueled my depression, that has been the tip of the iceberg for one of my suicidal episodes. She must not understand that I love her so much. And all i do is to please her. She must not understand that I try to be the angel she wants me to be, i try to be there for her. But i CANNOT read minds. I do not know what she wants. That has taunted me my whole life. Anger was thrown at me for not doing certain things, in which I had no idea I was supposed to do. How was i supposed to know I should stand up for mother in divorce court and say my older sister was lying about everything. I was a toddler! I did not even understand the situation! How can I be held responsible for something I honestly could not have done. How can this still be haunting me. How am i still living in the past, because every time she tells me I wasn’t there for her, i believe her. Because no matter how much i do, it is never enough. It never will be enough, and with what is going on in my head I can't live with it. 

On September 16 my mother sent me this, “i was thinking if we get left behind for NY why don't we like drive to Tahoe and just play around for thanksgiving?? Stay at a hotel etc.” I replied with excitement it sounded like a great idea. The plans developed and soon we had a hotel planned. My father agreed to pay for 2/3 of the hotel, but i assume he forgot. I sent him a few reminder texts but they were sandwiched between other questions so must have gotten lost in translation. Finally on the 19th of November, I called up my father and asked if he was still going to do that, he said he only agreed to pay 1/3, but then realized he might have misspoken and agreed to pay 2/3 even though he said he currently only had $1000 in his bank account. He wrote out a check for $500 and said he would leave it on his desk. Hours later i received angry messages from my mother consisting of this “ “i haven't been able to go to tahoe for 20 years while you and your buddies went nonstop and blew out BMW” and ““so you were going to spend 500 on yourself and not tell me. sounds about right”. This was because my father wrote the check out to me, to which I had no knowledge. This assumption that I was going to just cash the check and take the money and go to Tahoe was completely absurd. I was excited to go to Tahoe with my mother and our dogs. I was excited to help her have a good holiday for once, surrounded by good vibes and new memories. “you have to move dad’s care before you to to Tahoe bitch”.

I love my mother so much. But i also value and love myself. I need to accept the love that I deserve. I am 22 years old. I am becoming my own woman. I want to be strong an independent. I cannot have a mother emotionally abusing me. I cannot tolerate that. I do not deserve that. I have been there as much as I have emotionally been able to. I have never once been appreciated for it. When false accusations are thrown at me, I do not take them lightly. I would appreciate an apology from my mother. Not a half-hearted “sorry for being a shitty mother”. An apology acknowledging her wrongdoings and acknowledging that not all her children are “the devils children”. And to be honest none of them are. They just cannot tolerate the way she treats them. This is a two-way street, respect goes both ways, so I cannot say anything for anyone else. I am just saying that I have been disrespected for too long. My mother had pushed away everyone who has ever loved her. She has had the same patterns of behavior she has had with me, to different degrees with all those other people. And most of them have chosen to cut off contact. I have not done that, this is based on love, but also on pity. No one should have no one around to love them. But if said person makes it impossible to be loved, theres nothing anyone can do. If my mother wants to have me in her life. She needs to do some work on herself and realize she cannot treat people the way she has been. Trevor is not a retard and Drea is not the source of all the bad in your life. My mother needs to take some responsibility for the actions she has made in her life, and has to realize even though others might have had a role in it, she did as well, and she cannot blame it on anyone.

This goes to you mother. I love you with all my heart but you need to understand that you do not know it all. I am not a bitch who wants to take your money and run. I wanted to spend a good solid thanksgiving in your presence before we both get too old and distant. I want you to realize the white-picket fence life you have always dreamed of could've been yours and can still be yours if you still living in a pity act. I understand that you are suffering. I see it and I can feel it. I want to be there to help you get through it. I cannot do that if it compromises my mental health. I am not strong enough to take it. I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, As long as I'm living, my Mommy you'll be.

[elysiumrp]

Congratulations B! You have been accepted as Rebecca Gray. Please go through the checklist and send in your account within 24 hours. If you need more time, make sure you send a message to the main.

Now, just as Admin Dannah had an excitement for Tereza, this character here is the character I was most excited for. Rebecca Gray was my favourite character to write, even so much as me even thinking of picking her up. Reading your application brought the same excitement I had with Rebecca because another person comprehended to the point where I felt it was Rebecca writing her answers instead of you. It always take personal experiences to allow the writer to connect the most with a character, and seeing as you have those, there’s no doubt you’ll be able to explain the emotions and reactions Rebecca will have to the events that grace the pages of Elysium. She’s a critical addition to the magic community, both with working at Nature’s Botanicals – home to the Resistance – and being the brewing master of the city, and it takes a person who understands the character before the events to play them. B, you’re the person to play Rebecca, and I couldn’t be any more excited than I am now! Welcome to Elysium!!

OOC INFO

Name: B Age: 22 Timezone: GMT+1 Preferred Pronouns: She/Her Previous RP Experience: [RFP] Activity Level:  I work six days a week but I generally have the mornings to myself to do replies. So I would say a six. Anything Else: N/A

IC INFO

Character Name: Rebecca Gray Why did you choose this character:

I actually related some what to Rebecca when I was reading her biography. Even as a young child I was a very mature child and always prepared myself for things instead of letting it go over my head and I believe that is such an important factor in people’s lives ( childhood. ) and the fact that she didn’t really allow herself to experience that which means she could hold an internal grudge towards herself for never allowing herself to relax. For someone who maybe might feel up tight, constantly on guard with walls. That can sometimes take a higher affect on someone more so than people realise. I also was always teased by family members for being different, which I believe means I can bring a realistic twist to her character because I’ll be using my own personal experiences to give the character a voice.

I would much rather have my head in a book instead of taking part in the board games at family parties which is why I feel I can relate very well with Rebecca, Rebecca has something dark in here which I believe could be extremely great to play with. From taking the sweet exterior and exploring her inner demons and maybe in the future flipping it around so we get to see a dark side to explored even more in different scenarios which I think could be great for her character development.

I also believe I would do this character justice because I can see a long future for the character after reading her biography. She isn’t a black and white character but has many different layers which can be played with, experimented and tested especially with tasks and events. With her job it puts Rebecca in a pretty central and needed position in the supernatural world giving her access to connections a lot easier.

After reading her connections I felt that there was a lot to go off which is always great as a starting base with a character. Especially as she works under two people I feel this gives Rebecca a good standing in the community because she is good at her job which will benefit her majorly in the supernatural world. Especially as Rebecca doesn’t care too much for her family, which will also be a great standing to work with in future tasks.

I’m very drawn to Rebecca’s obvious social disconnection also which you would think it would hinder her but I reckon with the correct work it could almost become endearing to some people. She seems like a lone wolf with a very deep personality but a very brushed off approach. But she has a very kind soul which some people might sometimes not realise which I think would be a great catalyst if she was to every switch to the dark side for a short while.

Describe your plan for them:

For Rebecca I really want to use her personality as a base ground for how I want to play her. I know she had a tricky child hood and was shunned which would be a great way too start breaking down her walls. I don’t want to rush her character because I believe she has a very big background with her family that could be something that can be broken down slowly. I really want to delve deep into the story with the dark magic. She has promised to never use it and turn all her powers and life towards the light aka herbs, brewing ect. But I would really love to see Rebecca at some point have something happen to her which means even for a short while she would turn to the dark side and fight her way back to the light. I believe this would only strengthen her character but maybe help her understand that night in the attic a little more and release her from what happened. Which would be a great turning point for a future event ect.

I would love to work on her relationships with her connections and develop those also. Especially with Samantha as I believe that could be something really fun to play with; the way that Rebecca views her could mean so many things because they’re connected but don’t really know all too much about each other. A lot of her connections to seem be a passing acquaintance. Meaning she has no real deep connections which is something that I would like to work on her with. Develop some long standing connections and give her that sense of belonging which I feel like she will never has one hundred percent felt like she’s had.

Describe your character’s feelings and reactions to the initial reveal of the supernatural world:

With Rebecca I feel like it would shock her at first that the world knew and it would scare her that if she ever got threatened that she wouldn’t be able to control the darkness that lays deep inside her soul. But all in all I believe Rebecca would be some what relaxed about it and just stared to keep herself to herself even more so than she had done before. Which would recoil her personality a little bit meaning I would have to work on that with her again; she’d be untrusting of new people. But once she lets you in, you see a whole new side to her.

Describe your character’s feelings and reactions to the current state of the world, and how it impacts them as an individual:

I feel like Rebecca is unhappy with the current situation and the possibility that she will have to register as I feel like she likes to stay under the radar and having to register means that she would be out there for the entire world to see her and that would make her uncomfortable. Rebecca likes to lay low regardless so the having to lay low at the moment isn’t bothering her too much but she feels even more restricted than her normal life because of the ban that had been affecting herself and the clients around her. I feel like Rebecca is growing unhappier with it every day and she really just doesn’t want to register herself in case anything happens with what lays somewhere deep inside of her. Keeping herself away and unregistered allows her to feel some what free from the claws of the world and government.

Para Sample:

Become the best at everything she did was always her goal. Rebecca Gray was someone who often found herself pulled away from the life she so often tried to around— That’s everyone’s goal, to become the person they want to be and not have their past lingering over there shoulder. But for Rebecca Gray that past seemed to haunt her every day — in her soul as much as she didn’t want to believe it was. She did everything in her power to be the person that she should be and avoid what everyone in her family thought she would become. She wouldn’t become that; she was better than that. It was a Saturday night and the tears ran down her cheeks, her visage a picture of destruction as she sobbed into her hand. The laptop lay smashed upon the floor, things weren’t what you’d expect them to be. Three years changed a lot, personally, it had changed her. Clawing at her hair, Rebecca wanted to disappear. Rubbing at her cheeks as if that would save her from the constant growing of distress, she yanked her iPhone and headphones from her bed as she slipped them into her ears and left the confines of her small shared dorm. ‘’ Pull yourself together, Rebecca… ‘’ She groans at herself as she takes in a deep breath shaking her hair out and rolling her shoulders.

Rebecca Gray was one of the best brewers in the area and she had to keep reminding herself this when ever she was alone. Rebecca kept herself to herself and most of the time she loved being disconnected. But there were days like today when she was completely alone and her family were all having dinner together and she was once again not invited over something that happened all those years ago; had she not proved herself by now? They didn’t seem to think so and it was times like this she wished that night had never happened. That she had never felt what she did and allowed it to consume her. A darkness so dark that it became more like fresh air to her for the short time. And that was what scared Rebecca— it had been normal.

Coughing to herself she pushed the thoughts that had slowly began to consume her away and sighed. What was she going to do with herself? She knew she couldn’t stay like this forever, alone. But it was for other peoples good as well as her self.

Any questions/concerns/things you’d like to change: (siblings to add, pronouns, sexuality you’d like to specify, personality, face claim, history, etc., etc.)

N/A

[maxwell-n-blog]

Nearly Twenty Years Later, the Original Metal Gear Solid Still Has a Unique Atmosphere

(Originally written for The Snake Soup, published on May 24th, 2017)

Praise for Metal Gear Solid (MGS1) is certainly not difficult to find. Since the day of the game’s release in 1998 on Sony’s PlayStation (PS1), it has been revered and raved about within nearly all forms of media possible. People have talked about its influence on the games that followed it, and how Hideo Kojima’s love for film and the desire to make games more like movies resulted in possibly the first true cinematic gaming experience. The story and themes of this game, such as the need for war, the responsibility of nuclear power, questioning reality, the philosophy of being a soldier and more have been talked about on and on for the past two decades. Rightly so.

Instead of lingering over the said and done, I want to talk about the aspects of MGS1 that, for me, make up the unique “atmosphere” of the game; impressions that have remained with me since the first time I ever played MGS1 right before the end of the last millennium and elements I am drawn back to when I occasionally replay the game. Some of these elements, I find, are not talked about as much or at least are deserving of a reiteration.

I’d also rather look at MGS1 and its atmosphere as its own game, with little reference to the franchise that came after it. For me, the game remains disconnected from what came after. It stands solitary.

Make it all MGS1 starter-pack.

If I try to conjure up a sort of generalized mental image of MGS1, the memories immediately come in shades of green and black. Sure, there are some other colors, like the blues of fluorescent lights, the whites of Alaska, and all the grays in-between. But the more time you spend in the game, greens and blacks remain prevalent. The world presented exists primarily in colors which remind me of a calculator or Game Boy screen, though I guess the theme was more-so based on computer terminals. And, unlike what you see in big budget movies today, the characters and environments are not bathed in a color-graded overlay. The color scheme in MGS1 actually makes up the world around you, with characters and places existing within it, instead of it being a lazy and gaudy splash all over the place.

The choice of colors and textures might have been born out of limitation, but led to the creation of a completely unique environment. I remember that, during my first play-through, it all looked otherworldly, like fantasy despite being realistic than other more cartoonish games I had been playing at the time. I could feel the isolation that Solid Snake was feeling, sneaking around a cold and unfamiliar map.

Why does everyone seem to have your Codec frequency?

When huddled into the confined, minimal, green-and-black UI of the Codec screen, the colors present themselves the same way. Contact with HQ is disconnected, like it exists somewhere behind the scenes that you can never reach. Within the story, when you start to realize that HQ might be using Snake as a pawn as part of a massive government conspiracy, the Codec screen becomes a space even more confining than before, despite the fact that you start getting unauthorized calls and witness events that have an impact on the world outside.

A stealthy musical score, which doesn’t hide its synthetic quality, coupled with some organic sounds now and then, emphasizes all of this. And yeah, a lot has been said about the soundtrack in the past, but what really stands out in my memories is the few times when the score transitions into a sort of ambient BGM thing.

Now this might sound weird but, for me, the very first time Snake crawls into the air ducts, and the ambient sound of the ducts comes in, is a really memorable moment. What is that sound? Maybe it’s the ventilation system? In any case, that low rumble, with a rounded, rolling, industrial noise that phases through the left and right channels; it just grabs me and makes me really aware of the game’s world and where I am in it. It reminds me of ambient sounds in Silent Hill 1 and 2, where it’s hard to discern if the sounds are part of the score or a nearby machine. Right as you enter the “Comm. Tower”, there’s a similar moment, with synth sounds stinging in and out within a rumbling wind. Considering that the first time you hear it, it’s right before all hell breaks loose, having to fight your way through what seems like a hundred Genome soldiers (a.k.a spamming the stun grenade), it is a somewhat foreboding sound in retrospect. Once you enter the tower again, the sound makes you wary. Is something going to happen again? The suspense lingers around.

This guy found a way to read PlayStation Memory Cards with his mind! Sony executives hate him!

I’m not sure if Psycho Mantis’s mind control music counts as an ambient score, as it is both part of the score and music playing within the world of the game. It for sure sets up the tone for events to follow. I remember playing, as a child, dying multiple times during the boss fight and having to walk up that hall, having Meryl being forced to be a puppet and so on. It imprinted that music in my mind, which I suppose is the point, but at the time it was just unsettling. Psycho Mantis directly intimidating you, the player, through the fourth wall, didn’t help make it any less spooky.

Despite all these themes working against optimism, and the game taking place in a hostile and uninviting location, the game breaks in and out of the fourth wall like this all the time. Both for the sake of humor, and for the sake of communicating with the player.

I remember it was an odd experience for the game’s characters to take turns talking to Snake, and then to the player, interchangeably. It stayed with me, and though I wasn’t sure about all the silliness at first, as an adult I have come to appreciate the cheesy humor more than ever. It takes a wink and a nudge to the player to an unprecedented extreme for the time. This would be annoying usually, but what makes it work is that when the fourth wall is broken by a character, the other characters do not acknowledge it. In that moment, that particular character is talking to you, the player, reminding you that you are needed in order to progress the story. Instead of breaking immersion, this actually serves to be a very engaging way for the game to convey its theme of questioning reality.

The words coming out of the mouths of the characters breaking the fourth wall are not their own, but rather messages from the writers and developers of the game. It’s as if the characters are possessed by the creators for a minute in order to communicate with you; like ghosts, this is the only way for them to reach your physical world directly. In my mind, the game is a partial comedy because of this. It’s like you are an actor in a movie, playing Solid Snake, and all the inside jokes are things shared by the cast and crew. Unlike other experiences, this time, you’re in on the joke. The comedy exists within the game but it exists outside of the main narrative; it is almost never acknowledged within the context of the story. It seems to exist for you alone.

Staying on this tangent of humor, some lines sound like they belong in a cheap thriller novel, though I am not honestly sure if some of them were meant to be funny (at one point, after shooting Liquid’s chopper down, Snake walks looking away from the fiery explosion, and says, “See you in hell…Liquid. That takes care of the cremation”). The cast of baddies is a bit goofy to say the least. While their ideologies, and sometimes lack thereof, are interesting and at times provocative, something about imagining these dudes hanging around the water cooler is outright hilarious. However, it all blends into the pseudo-80′s espionage movie feel of the game.

Wisdom of the Sioux people [from Metal Gear Awesome 2].

While the members of FOXHOUND at times talk like inferior versions of Saturday morning cartoon villains, they remain mysterious and appear to have deep backstories that we are not meant to fully know; this only adds to the charm. It’s like paths intersecting, for damaged people fighting their internal demons externally. But, you know, some of them might be able to use physic powers to control the DualShock’s vibration and read your memory card, or be able to tell if you are using auto-fire during torture. Or freeze you with their crow head tattoo powers… in order to read your bloodline? I am still a bit unclear on that one.

Regardless, you don’t need to know anything about the characters aside from what you can assume from their dialogue, and you can always listen to optional Codec conversations if you are inclined to learn more. That beats forced exposition any day.

One of the many memorable moments from the original MGS1.

Looking back at all of this, it becomes very obvious why I dislike any attempts to remake MGS1 and its locations. Like most art, once something groundbreaking has been created by a certain individual, or a team of individuals, that specific idea is bookmarked in history. MGS1 is an example of something happening at just the right time, with just the right people, at that specific point in time.

We [at The Snake Soup] have, years ago, covered just why The Twin Snakes is an inferior remake that, frankly, does not even come close to conveying what made the original game unique. If it aimed to be a different take on the game, it was certainly a pointless endeavor.

Shadow Moses did not feel the same, again, when it was fan-service-ly revisited in Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots. In the context of that game, sure, it was supposed to be different, but the environment felt more like a 3D graphic design student’s homework than the body of the actual place. It felt like a cruddy copy, not a true revisit. All it did for me was make me want to play MGS1 again, which I did in one of my many attempts to forget that MGS4 exists.

I consider MGS1 to hold a unique place in the history of art and video games. It’s not because it is a perfect game—far from it, actually—but it was one of the first games to actually use the medium to its fullest potential and invoke an actual atmosphere that truly made you feel like you entered another world. A very unique world, standing on its own, where I believe it stands to this very day.

[howtocloudtech-blog]

Ars perusers prescribe applications for your new iPad or iPad smaller than expected Searching for more applications for your new iPad? Ars perusers are indicating the way.

We as of late prescribed a modest bunch of applications get new iPad or iPad smaller than expected proprietors up to speed on some basic use designs. However, the buck didn't stop there: Ars perusers likewise tolled in with a few suggestions we believed merited sharing. We've orchestrated the proposals freely into classes, for example, amusements, efficiency, and music.

Here at Ars, we utilize a considerable lot of these are applications ourselves or know associates who utilize them. In any case, they are applications that Ars perusers feel enthusiastic around—a ringing support, I'm certain you'll concur.

News

We suggested Flipboard for a curated determination of top news articles in your most loved classes and Reeder for filtering through piles of articles by means of RSS. One Ars peruser suggested Newsify RSS Reader ($0.99) as a contrasting option to Reeder. It likewise utilizes Google Reader to subscribe to and match up RSS channels, it looks decent, and it will just cost you a buck.Other perusers specified applications like Instapaper ($3.99) and Pocket (free), which let you read articles that you have stored for disconnected perusing. Such applications likewise re-organize long-shape articles utilizing designs and textual styles more helpful for perusing for long extends.

Learning

The iPad is an awesome gadget for learning, and perusers indicated a couple applications for information upgrade. A conspicuous decision is iTunes U (free), Apple's entryway to a great extent free substance accessible from schools and colleges. You can get to video addresses, presents, notes, and then some, from courses like Stanford's iOS improvement class or Oxford's address arrangement on JRR Tolkien.If you adore space (and what self-regarding Ars peruser doesn't, I ask), Solar Walk ($2.99) gives you a chance to explore a virtual 3D rendition of the close planetary system from the solace of your own love seat—zero-G preparing not required.

Intuitive course readings are viewed as one of the most recent progressions in learning, and the iPad possesses a great deal of them. Notwithstanding intuitive writings accessible through the iBookstore, Touch Press has a progression of "books" outlined as independent applications. The Elements ($13.99) was the organization's initially invasion into the field of applications as intelligent messages, and can unquestionably engage and wow with its intuitive introduction of the occasional table.Reader eas wasn't as awed as others, however. "I observed The Elements to be long on style and short on substance or persevering quality. I say this not to ruin your happiness, but rather to give other individuals who a chance to come here searching for suggestions realize that there are contrasts of conclusion on this one."

Touch Press has a few other intelligent book applications accessible, covering pearls, dinosaurs, instrumental music, and even T.S. Eliot.

Amusements

Obviously, perusers had a considerable measure of suppositions to offer on recreations. Kingdom Rush HD ($2.99) was said a few times as a decent tower safeguard style amusement, for instance.Reader r3tina couldn't help contradicting our decision of Ticket to Ride as a top table game adjustment. "While I appreciate Ticket to Ride, the vast majority of my multiplayer prepackaged game time is go through with Carcassonne ($9.99). As I would like to think it has set the bar for prepackaged game to-tablet adjustments."

reverend atman felt easygoing gamers would truly like Jetpack Joyride (free), one of our proposals for new Android tablet clients. "I don't believe it's conceivable to exaggerate how cool that diversion is for easygoing gamers. One control. Your finger or thumb. That is it." Also, you can fly by shooting projectiles at the ground. 'Nuff said.Music

With regards to tuning in to music, not everybody is a devotee of our proposal, Spotify. Peruser jamieskella pondered, "How and why is Spotify as yet being suggested when Rdio (free) gloats 18 million tunes and is accessible in such a variety of districts all around? The remarkably instinctive application encounter leaves Spotify in the tidy, the social components add to the officially top notch revelation choices, while the technique for classifying your most loved music is far predominant."

A couple of different perusers additionally suggested TuneIn Radio Pro ($0.99), which associates with uninhibitedly accessible spilling Internet radio stations like Indie Pop Rocks from Soma.FM or Metal Invasion Radio.For making music, perusers likewise prescribed some more genuine devices over the simple to-suggest GarageBand, particularly on the off chance that you like electronic music.

EmeraldArcana said that "for on-the-fly music making I incline toward Figure ($0.99) by Propellerheads. It's modest, has incredible utilization of the touchscreen, super simple to utilize, sounds extraordinary, and you can really put out some awesome melodies."

Propellerheads' ReBirth for iPad ($14.99) additionally got a few notices. It joins a virtual Roland T-303 bass synth with virtual T-808 and T-909 drum machines to make the ideal techno beat machine. Remember 1994 once more, and rave 'til day break to your own particular club hits!

On the off chance that that isn't sufficient virtual synth for you, perusers likewise raved about Korg's iMS-20 ($29.99) and Moog's Animoog ($29.99) simulators.Chat

Associating and speaking with others is constantly imperative. On the off chance that our suggestion of Verbs IM sometimes falls short for your requirements, perusers additionally prescribe Trillian (free), which can match up with the desktop rendition; imo delivery person for iPad (free), which incorporates its own particular convention notwithstanding a few others, and BeeJiveIM for iPad ($4.99), a well known favorite.Art

We called attention to a couple picture editors, including Google's free Snapseed. Be that as it may, PhotoForge2 ($3.99) was placed as an awesome picture altering elective. (We have said others for iPhone clients previously, and many have iPad forms too).

In any case, tablets can be utilized for something beyond photograph altering. Paper (free) was picked by Apple as "Application of the Year" for 2012. The characteristic media gasping and drawing application incorporates instruments like pencils, pens, brushes, and the sky is the limit from there, and the "ink motor" responds the way you would expect on genuine paper.For more specialized drawing and delineation, clients may lean toward a vector apparatus like iDraw ($8.99), or Autodesk's Sketchbook Pro ($4.99), which utilizes a similar paint motor as the desktop variant of Sketchbook.

Video

Peruser alagemo whined that our application roundup had "no say of anything to do with video...Netflix, YouTube, or Hulu ought to be on a great many people's shopping lists."We concur—loads of clients like watching video on an iPad when viewing the 55-inch flatscreen in the front room isn't helpful. Here are a few applications to consider:

Netflix (free)

Hulu Plus (free)

Amazon Instant Video (free)

Crackle (free)

YouTube (free)

PBS for iPad (free)

A few communicate and link channels likewise have their own particular applications for spilling video content too. A few administrations, as Netflix and Hulu Plus, may likewise require extra membership expenses to really stream content.

Profitability

Notwithstanding many claims despite what might be expected, the iPad can be utilized by some to complete work. We specified some great word processors in our past gathering, however peruser invalidname called attention to that designers would likely be ideally serviced by a reason constructed code proofreader.

"For engineers, Textastic Code Editor ($8.99) is a stunningly better content manager than the choices [mentioned previously]. It punctuation highlights many various types of records, including the hip programming dialects like Groovy and Scala, and old necessities like Makefiles and Apache config documents."

"To finish it off, Textastic has a sharp plan for getting to non-alphanumerics on the screen console: an additional column of keys with five characters for each key orchestrated like the 5 on a pass on. Tap for the inside character, swipe slantingly for any of the corners. It's a smart answer for the issue of overlooking your Bluetooth console, and it's relentless quick practically speaking. To mind, I composed critical parts of my last two iOS programming books in Textastic, including some C examples."Though we noticed that iBooks can be utilized to peruse PDF documents, a few perusers said iAnnotate PDF ($9.99) and GoodReader for iPad ($4.99) as choices, especially for their implicit devices for making point by point comments.

For monitoring notes, pictures, sites, to-dos, and other arranged bits of data, loads of perusers like Evernote (free). The portable application matches up with the Evernote benefit by means of the cloud, so you can get to your virtual "note pads" from your Mac, PC, iPhone, or Android gadget also. A discretionary premium membership enables you to reserve information disconnected, impart journals to others, and add a watchword bolt to delicate information.Finally, numerous perusers concur that 1Password ($7.99) is an irreplaceable apparatus for any iPad client. It can create solid passwords for you and store them in a protected place opened by an ace secret key. Consider it like OS X's Keychain, no one but you can match up passwords among desktop and cell phones.