#wolf garo

[bandaiprojectsuperherotime]

wolf garo/garo wolf

name: wolf garo aka garo wolf.

appearance color: gold with silver part line wolf knight armor, gold eye, silver teeth, gold wolf wing ear, gold wolf wing, gold with silver part line robe.

model based: saejima/original garo & fur & wolf & knight.

weapons: original weapons & wolf garoken sword & giant wolf garoken sword & garo hand claw.

note: this is a first garo have the gold with silver part line robe like their human saejima family.

[garoumylove]

Family picture ✨

[simeonscott]

Why You Should Watch GARO

An overview of what makes the spookiest toku franchise out there great.

[hellokittystims]

Kouga from Garo for @bottled-sharks

x / x / x / x / x / x / x

[kinsleygenesis]

I traced him with my fingers on my phone :)

[dxrknessembr8ced]

Quietly walking out of their room they hide in the corners as they heard someone walk by them. What they saw is none other than a j'avo wearing now upgraded neo umbrella attire to be more fitting more their religion. These J'avo are highly skilled in protecting the halls with Hsien-Ko inside unaware the bloodshed is about to come down when he comes closer to where the two are hiding.

Once he got closer Hsien-Ko grabs him by the back using her blade stabbing him only a few times.

' PRRRAACCCKK!! '

' PRRAACCKK! '

' PPPRRRCCCSSHH! ' .

Once she's done both she and Raptor got out if their hiding spots deciding that them stealthily walk their way out of here is not an option. So they decided what fits them both best, kill everyone in the entire halls with no mercy until they can find her allies.

" Raptor, fuck this we're killing our way by force. "

Hsien-Ko grits her teeth as she channels both the power of Kouga and the T-Erebus virus from within as her body erupted into emerald flames burning away her entire clothing leaving her bare naked.

' CCCCCCSSSSHHHHH!!! '

Coating in emerald flames then came out golden crystalline structures this time they emerged through all over her body finally forming herself into the armor of the fanged wolf of legend.

' KRRRSSCCCHH ! '

' KKKRRCCHT ! '

' KKKRRRCCHHHT ! '

' KKKCCCHHHTTT ! '

From head to toe Hsien-ko have achieved what was taboo in the old tales of the makai order and Kouga let this happen giving her this power destroying an oath all in the sake of protecting her and her family and that is becoming the first female makai knight but not just any makai knight a makai knight of legends, she has become Garo.

Standing there in shock her cigar fell off her lip as she just standing there witnessing her transformation first hand.

" What the fuck...? "

Hsien-Ko stands ready now with her blade in her hands she kept walking through the halls while Raptor follows her even more excited now as the J'avo heard all the noise they run up through the halls only to met with both the now former jiangshi and the zombie together. The armored J'avo began their assault while one of them ran away to alert the rest of the cult of Las Erebus as the two retaliated by butchering and maiming their attackers with sheer violent tendencies cluttered in their minds.

They begin firing at them both fiddling them with bullets while she stands guard in front of raptor protecting her as the bullets do not damage thanks to the armor coaeted her body as she dashes forward slashing the J'avo in pieces with only one slash leading the way for more destruction she is going to caused. Hsien-Ko's anger has cranked up from one to a billion for she won't stop with the killing until her family is safe.

' KLLLLSSSSHHHH! '

Hsien-Ko growled as she kept moving with Raptor by her side like an enraged hungry wolf that she is more of the J'avo showed up this time with T-103s and packed with more firepower hoping to stop their bloody rampage.

The T-103 dashed towards Hsien-Ko head first slammimg his fist directly into her face but Hsien-Ko being a tyrant killer and apex predator amongst the bio organic weapons lifting his entire body and slamming him into the ground with such immense strength and rage still building up inside her. While with lord Raptor the zombie is going all in while she keeps her busy as she swung her foot as it turns into a gritty chainsaw made from her flesh and bones eviscerating a handful of these bio organic weapons spilling as much blood as possible while Hsien-Ko raised her foot onto the tyrant on the ground and then stomps his head in.

' PRRRAAACCCKKKK!! '

Splattering his brains all over the floor she turned around dealing with the rest of the J'avo along side Lord Raptor plunging her blade at one of them getting near her friend despite being able to regenerate Hsien-Ko is not one to let her friends get hurt even if they're practically already dead.

[canmom]

Animation Night 193 - Harpier cries: 'tis time! 'tis time!

PREVIOUSLY, in the dark halls of ANIMATION NIGHT, you have born witness to such horrors as these...

Animation Night 25: HORROR, featuring Kakurenbo, Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust, Birdboy: The Forgotten Children, and many episodes of Yamishibai

Animation Night 77: Once More, Halloween, featuring Blood: The Last Vampire, Seoul Station, The Wolf House, and Shoujo Tsubaki - and more Yamishibai...

Animation Night 129: Thrice the brinded cat hath mewed..., featuring Hellsing Ultimate, The Secret Adventures of Tom Thumb, Mad God, Ujicha's Violence Voyager, and guess what? Yamishibai...

Animation Night 176: The Hedge-Pigge Whin'd, a rather scuffed production which, contra the writeup, ended up just showing the Darkstalkers OVA from 1997. And some Yamishibai of course.

And now, my friends, and now... the witching hour is soon to be upon us once more, and it is time we revelled in the darkness and terror, for tonight is hallow'een, easily the best festival in the western calendar.

Many thanks go to @glitch-critter and @muzothecat, who provided me some excellent suggestions for animated horror that I have yet to see. Not that reruns would be the end of the world, there's some excellent shit on the list above I would be immensely glad to see again.

To begin with, we have the recently-released The Birth of Kitarō: The Mystery of GeGeGe (幾多郎誕生：ゲゲゲの謎). Which provides an excellent excuse to get into the subject of Kitarou. So let's begin our dark and sordid tale... well, it's actually a pretty positive tale, but that's not really in the spirit of things.

GeGeGe no Kitarō is a truly classic manga series dating back to the 60s, created by Shigeru Mizuki. But it's actually older still: the earliest incarnation of Kitarō is in a kamishibai performance written/illus. by Masami Itō and Keiyō Tatsumi back in 1933, called Hakaba Kitarō (Kitarō of the Graveyard). It tells the story of a ghost boy called Kitarō who lives in a graveyard; like many kamishibai it was aiming at straight up horror. Here's a board from the original (photo by translator Zack Davisson, thanks wikipedia):

So, you know yōkai? You're reading this blog, so probably, but just in case, they are the various freaky spirits of Japanese folklore, from kappa and tengu to nekomata and chōchin-oiwa. And the reason why they are such a popular feature of modern popular culture (you all know what a kappa is, right?) is in large part due to this manga.

Shigeru Mizuki, born 1922, had a pretty wild life. He was drafted into the army in 1943 at age 21, and lost his left arm in a bombing the next year; during his recovery he made friends among the Tolai people of New Guinea. He came home after the war, and found work renting out an apartment building and drawing kamishibai on the side; gradually the kamishibai work took over. In 1953, his brother Sōhei moved in after being tried for war crimes (the timeline does not mention the outcome of the trial); in 1957 at age 35 he moved to drawing manga, debuting in rental manga with Rocketman.

Starting in 1960 at the behest of Mizuki's publisher, the Hakaba Kitarō manga adapted the story of the yamishibai, introducing a wider audience to ghost boy Kitarō with his floofy hair and little third eye on a stalk. It proved explosively popular (despite being at first deemed too scary for children), telling the stories of Kitarō's encounters with all kinds of yōkai. The state of English translations is a bit scattershot; some of it is available on mangadex.

In 1964, at age 42, Mizuki debuted in serialised manga in Garo magazine - a name you might find familiar, the avant-garde magazine which also published authors like Suehiro Maruo (ero-guro mangaka, the author of Shoujo Tsubaki) and Hiroshi Masamura (the guy who made the cat manga we looked into on AN188). There, he rebooted the Kitarō manga, starting once again with the story of the birth of Kitarō. Before long he jumped over to the much larger Monthly Shonen Magazine, and retooled Kitarō to be more kid-oriented. From then on it's Kitarō city - and the immense success of the manga gave him the chance to regularly return to the newly combined state of Papua New Guinea.

In 1968, Kitarō arrived in animation land, one of Toei's early projects. It quickly became one of those classic famous Toei anime, you know the type, the kind of thing that every Japanese person of a certain age would have seen on TV. Mizuki himself composed the OP, and it continued to get sequels throughout the ensuing fifty years, with the most recent being in 2018. This is an old and widely beloved anime so there is a lot of it: the 1968 series accumulated 65 episodes, the third series in 1985-88 is the longest at 115, but the others are no slouch either; even the 2018 series pulled out a mighty 97.

As such, it's... perhaps a little daunting! But...

The Birth of Kitarō is a prequel to the 2018 series... and rather than being a spooky-fun kids anime, it's intended as a genuine horror story aimed at adults, presumably adults who grew up watching Kitarō, returning to the earliest Garo-era tone of the manga. Set in the 50s, the story sees salaryman Mizuki arrive in a village in pursuit of a mysterious medicine, where he finds the village ruled by an old superstitious family. Naturally, before long, murders start happening. And a mysterious white-haired man is somehow involved...

Seems like the perfect way to get into Kitarō. I missed the chance to see this film at Annecy this year, but it's already out on nyaa, so let's jump on it.

So that's our first act. What of our second?

Junk Head is a stop-motion scifi film pretty much enitrely solo animated by Takehide Hori who, at age 40, heard about Makoto Shinkai's solo-animated film Voices of a Distant Star (AN44), and was inspired to spend the next seven years working on a stop-motion scifi epic of his own. It tells of a cyborg from a future where humans have lost the ability to reproduce, venturing into a strange underground realm full of freaky creatures that, I'm told, invite comparisons to the art of Giger, Bosch, Escher and Gorey, and the films of Švankmajer (whose Alice we watched on AN50), Gilliam, and the Quay Brothers. del Toro lauded it as a 'work of deranged brilliance'.

Which is to say this is exactly the kind of thing we like to show here on Animation Night. I can't believe I didn't hear of this film before. Sources are not exactly abundant, but I was able to find a hardsubbed 720p version with a few seeds on it, so that's what we'll be watching tonight.

Speaking of the Brothers Quay, who enjoy a remarkably in-depth and thorough wiki page, they have yet to appear on Animation Night, and it's about time we remedied that! A pair of identical twins from the Pennsylvania who moved to the UK in 1969 to study at the RCA, they got their start in illustration before making a turn to stop motion film using bits of dolls and various other materials in the vein of Švankmajer.

They are incredibly prolific as a pair, making shorts in nearly every year from 1979 to 2021 (bar a couple of hiatuses). Most of their films are without dialogue, set instead to the music of Leszek Jankowski and a great many other other composers. They are huge book nerds too, adapting authors from Lem and Kafka to Emma Hauck; honestly there's a ton to dive into here and I will for sure be returning to these guys on a future Animation Night. Tonight, however, our pick will be Street of Crocodiles (2021), a musical piece in which a puppet walks through a desolate realm of "mechanical realities and manufactured pleasures", widely celebrated as one of their best films.

Stop motion seems to be a theme tonight, huh? Somehow, stop motion is just spookier than traditional animation. That theme continues with The House, an anthology piece for Netflix depicting three different stories taking place in the same house. Animated in London, each piece brings in a different director, respectively Emme de Swaef and Marc James Roels co-directing the first, Swedish director Niki Lindroth von Bahr the second and Mexican-British actress turned director Paloma Baeza for the third.

The stories span a few hundred years, from the 1800s to a flooded post climate change future. In each case, the house is the stage for tales of obsession and misguided ambition leading to disaster, whether it should befall anthro rats, humans or anthro cats. Widely praised for its animation and general weirdness, I'm quite excited to see what this mix has in store.

And returning of course will be Yamishibai, the wonderful long-running series of ridiculous cutout-animated creepypasta horror in the vein of old-school kamishibai boards. You know we gotta. And hey, if we're feeling in a really good mood at the end of the evening, I might bring Shoujo Tsubaki out of the vaults too. We shall see.

Animation Night 193 shall begin, with its gruesome course of animated horrors, at seventh hour.... which is to say 7pm UK time, just over four hours from the writing of this post. Be there, or be forever haunted by the ghosts of frames unseen (unless you gotta go trick or treat or something, we understand). The place? Upon the heath... of twitch.tv/canmom!

Hoooohhooohohoohooohooohohoooooooooo!

[toku-explained]

Guide to GARO: Reintroduction

Approximately 4 years ago, I initiated a series of posts introducing every aspect of the GARO Franchise (all under the GARO tag here) and have endeavoured to keep these up over the years over some 30-40 posts. However, the first major media development since then has recently finished, and while I have already covered it, I felt updating the Introductory post was prudent, and will cover the basics and breakdown the franchise.

The Basics

"Where there is light, shadows lurk and fear reigns. But by the blade of Knights, mankind was given hope."

In the world of GARO exists HORRORS, demonic entities from the Makai Realm, which consume humans, and can possess those who do all to darkness. When possessing a human a Horror can only be identified by the reaction of it's eyes to a Madou Flame. The only thing stopping the Horrors are the Makai Order.

The greatest opposition comes in the for of the Makai Knights, warriors who fight with weapons and magical, wolf-shaped armour made of mystical Soul Metal, the armour summoned by creating circles of light with their weapons which the armour emerges from. The most revered, and commonly considered the strongest Knight is the Golden Knight GARO. While the Knights focused on in a series are normally titles Knights with a unique armour, many Knights are without title and possess a generic armour. An Armour and Title will typically be passed down from father to son, or master to student. Due either to a law or some other factor, women may not be Makai Knights

The other main opponents to the Horrors are the Makai Priests, who rely on spells either using their Madou Brushes or other magical items. Due to lacking armour, in combat Makai Priests may sometimes have to rely on magical familiars, or specialised Madou Tools created by subjugating Horrors.

Some titled Makai Knights are partnered with special Madougu, sentient jewelry acting as avatars for benign Horrors to communicate with a Makai Knight they are contracted to, offering insights on the Horrors they fight or helping detect their activities, GARO's eternal partner is the Madou Ring, Zaruba, the only character to have definitively appeared in live action and animation. The prevalence of Madougu partners varies wildly by era, being almost universal among titled Titles Knights at some points, and virtually unheard of in others.

Certain Makai Knights can, after sealing 100 Horrors, be given a challenge the completion of which allows them the use of a Madou Horse associates with their armour.

Dependent on the era, Makai Order members act in their own volition, under the guidance in senior Makai Priests, or under the auspices of Watchdogs who oversee activity within a territory.

A common but not universal feature of the franchise are Dark Makai Knights, who have fallen to darkness in some way. This has been done in so many different ways I won't go into it. Dark Makai Priests have also appeared, but are less common. Another common feature is acquiring a special transformation for the final battle that is typically seen as a one-off.

Rather than list every entry in release order, I will be breaking my introductions into eras, some of which can be further divided. In essence though, there are 2 distinct eras, plus a few extra, and the anime.

[astarab1aze]

➥ Loux Garo

fuck around, find out / drabble warning for violence, vaguely direct gore, probably poor handling of this exact situation

"Naw, y'see..." Loux said, leaning into knuckles itching for a fight, fangs bared, a sneer on his lips. Staring down the proverbial barrel of a gun, surrounded by the weres he stole from - all of them, seething, from the -bull to the -wolf, and the dragonkin in between. And he could only flash his darkest storm, his sharpest grin, hand under his haori, fingering his spoils. "I ain't jus steal from ya, ma chicos y chiquitas..."

In point of fact, he'd done a fair bit more than just steal from them - he robbed them utterly blind, and had stood there for twenty minutes rubbing their faces in it.

The bull, with hair black as night and truly impressive longhorns, stepped forward, fists balled tightly. Loux could see the rage in their eyes, beady black things, glaring down at him- No doubt on the verge of making a grab for him. Funny. They always acted it was some cardinal sin, that a trinket or two and a handful of cash be taken, but maybe if they hid their shit better, the fox wouldn't have been so keen on investigating... No personal accountability, for shame! How could he not teach them so basic a lesson? They left it all out in the open in front of a known criminal.

"'Course not, 'cause you're a rat - and rats ain't good for no fuckin' thing else."

Stormy gray met furious black in defiance with a nonchalant tilt of his head, champagne blond falling out of his eyes. He knew what was to come, could sense it in them all, could feel it spiking in the air. In the thundering beats of their hearts, the cracking of their knuckles, flexing of muscle under cloth and fur, in the grinding of their teeth, the sweat upon their brow - and he was quietly, happily goading them into the fight they so wanted, the justice they demanded. He didn't even have to do anything but stand there, feigning a scratch at his ribs, rolling his eyes the while.

It would just be easier if they could get a fucking move on already. If they wanted to beat him to death, now was their chance. He would get his, in the end. There wasn't any way he was going to get out of this anyway, so may as well let them do as they pleased.

"He's just a kid," the antelope whispered, short hair, glassy green eyes, but it didn't seem they'd meant to. Oh? What's this, apprehension?

"So what, ya think we should just let him go because o' that? Ya think he gives a damn about the fuckin' rules? Look at him, grinnin' like it's nothin'. He knows he's wrong - he just doesn't fuckin' care! Ya wanna let him have it or d'ya want yer fuckin' money back?" the wolf barked, growling as he spoke from behind Loux, claws shattering the hardwood and brick of the Packhouse bunkroom. Splintering, clattering to the floor.

Was he supposed to be intimidated? As if. He was a lackey of Deadeye once - try harder.

He glanced between the bull, the antelope, the gator, and the exit, gray temporarily affixing to woodgrain, mind tumbling over a handful of exit plans once all was said and done. He could've shifted into the form of a fly and left right then, but he wanted this, this confrontation, something reckless and dark gnawing at the back of his mind, snipping at his heartstrings. Counting on this, wanting this to happen, for someone to catch him in the act and show him how fucked up and worthless he really was. Maybe it was baser, more idiotic than even that, instinctive drive to go down and take everyone else with him pushing him ever further down the path he'd chosen. Was he trying to get himself killed? Or did he know his best and only chances were on every gamble he'd ever taken? He'd survived all this time on his own, after all, and how else but adapting to the ugliness of the people and world around him? Steal to make deals and pay for meals, kill or be killed, dog eat dog, the whole shpiel. This was their chance, their turn to prove true what seemed as natural law. There would always be killers and thieves, so there must always be someone to stop them, be it the common man or folk who didn't mind beating the shit out of a kid.

"Do you want to go to jail?! Are you crazy?" the antelope yelped, drawing Loux's attention back to center. "I'm not going down with you! Especially not since--"

"Since what, coward? Since he's Loux Garo? Ya think we didn't know that? It's even more reason to just get rid of him now!" Wolf again, heavy paws thumping into the wood beneath them, scraping his claws into it. Whatever. "We'd be doin' everyone and his mom a fuckin' favor. We'd be heroes, for fuck's sake."

Loux wondered if they were even paying attention to him anymore, if it would be easy to slip through. See, part of him was keen on vanishing into the night, but it was quiet, overshadowed by impulsivity and boredom, pinky digging into his ear to show as much. A little surprising though, that they've decidedly jumped to the idea of killing him.

"Kid's not jus' a thief, he's a fuckin' murderer! A terrorist! Hate to say it, but I think yer right..." Gator, hissing in agreement, heavy tail grinding against the floor. "Killin' 'im leaves a bad taste in m' mouf though, maybe we shouldn't. We'd 'ave blood on our 'ands--"

"And who out of us doesn't, huh?!" bellowed the bull, and Loux decided he'd just about had enough of their utterly pointless, circular conversation.

He stepped forward, gaze never again returning to the bull's face, and he raised a hand, two fingers in the air with his thumb tucked in. "Iffin ya feel like doin' it, go ahead. Get it o'er wit, ain't got all day t' wait till y'all can figger out 'ow to get away wit assaultin' anybody, me included." Then he curled them, and a spark would catch flame in the bull's hair, crackling in the dim light and giving off its own. "How's 'bout a lil provocation?"

And he laughed, madly, taking pleasure in the sudden terror bleeding in between all seven of his would-be killers, swiftly turning on his heel and with an arrogant flourish, doing much the same to the wolf. Again, swinging around to the antelope and delighting in the way that she screamed. Starting fires in fur and flesh, little ones, small ones, enough to cause panic, enough to goad into action. The bull and the wolf each howled and growled, anthromorphic hands rushing to put out every flame, and they would succeed, of course they would, even as their skin burned. A flurry of gasps, too slow on the uptake, and though his smile was wide, his hands ready to set them all ablaze, they would have their graceless retribution.

The twinkle and chill of ice shot through the air too soon after, frigid shards shattering on impact with brick, lodging into wood - and freezing everything around them like a volley of blighted arrows. Oh, not good. As smoke then clouded the room, he felt himself tumble a step forward, barely able to keep standing, in place of the bull, hands frantically flutter to his chest, then under the right-side of his ribcage. He hadn't felt it at first, distracted by his own provocation, hot fingers melting into the ice burrowing in. His eyes went wide and he hazarded a pitiful gasp, an even worse laugh, diaphragm catching on the pressure, his nerves not quite registering the pain just yet. Shaking on his feet, blood curdling in his veins, gut viciously churning, sudden anxiety clutching at his heart. The heat of his blood poured from his chest, mixing with water, and all around him batted away the smoke, rushed closer, watched him fall to his knees as the agony of it took root at last.

"We...we have no choice now, do we?" Voices blurring together. "He set us on fire!" Too many at once. "Yeah, but-" Shouting. "He's still just a kid!" His heart was slowing, fire wouldn't come to his call, the magic dying inside before he could ever hope to make use of it. "Hey, he ain't gettin' back up." Fuck. "Oh yeah! We shoulda opened wit that ice cast - 'e's weak to it." Wheezing, eyes burning with smoky tears he couldn't weep, trembling on the floor in a heap, willing the spike of ice to hurry up and melt so he could pull it free-- "C'mon, this'll be easy."

He tried to lift his head and wear his best smile, crooked and vile as ever, knowing well and good that no matter how youthful his appearance, calling him a child didn't truly make it so. A fist dove into the mess of his hair, smelling thickly of singed hair, tangled in and yanked him backward, winding him in the process. He sputtered and coughed on every breath, robbed of his power in an instant, arrogance swept clean from his face. Blood pooling on the hardwood between his knees, spilling between the cracks, sticky on his skin. Feeling around the spike, coming to the realization that with this, he very well could die.

But even in the end, he would provoke, he would incite, he would demand it.

"Took y'all long 'nough to figger tha' out..." he croaked, "Gon-gonna finish the job or leave a girl waitin'? Got shitta do afta this--"

"Shut the fuck up!" Hoof to the spine, another forcing the spike out of him - bruising, cruel all the same. He couldn't begin to quantify the pain he was feeling now, layer upon layer of carefully woven protective thread shorn through. Ribs cracking, dislodged, out of place, shockwaves spidering up and down his spine- and he couldn't move, more and more blood pouring out of him like a faucet, neck near to snapping, everything everywhere all of it--

"F-fuck you," choking on the sounds he made.

There was a pause, brief, thoughtful, pregnant with consideration, next steps. Everything came in bits and pieces, words picked and plucked from what he could manage, throbbing pain echoing through him sharply, drowning much of it out. He couldn't think- Exit strategy, how to get away--

And for what felt like hours, all seven of them took their turns. Hoof stomping him into hardwood, cutting him open with shards of ice, wood, and glass, holding him up by his hair and throwing enhanced fists into open wounds, holding him down and doing the same to his face, kicking him, breaking his bones, shattering his will, taking ample advantage of the time it took for him to recover from contact with ice. Succumbing to their own impulses, appealing to their own sense of justice. He was helpless, teeth tumbling out of his mouth, nose twisted and broken, lips split, shoulder and right hip dislocated, jaw fractured, ice forming in his hair, back bent and nothing, nothing, nothing but sheer unfathomable agony and despair taking him. No means to protect himself, robbed of the opportunity by happenstance, by accident, and led as a lamb to inevitable slaughter - one he deserved, one he thought he'd commanded of them. Thought he wanted, punishment to fit his crimes. Writhing before them, victim again to a pause followed by merciless strikes, impacts spattering his blood across the floor, iron on his tongue, vision blurred, hearing lost to dull ringing and throbbing hums. Head snapping sideways with the next blow, flesh around his eye swollen to bursting--

"How's 'e still conscious?"

"Dunno, best keep goin' then."

And again, again they went, ripping clumps of hair from his scalp, tearing through his haori and qipao, clawing at the stitching to each and every one of his infinite pockets. Arms pinned painfully behind his back, wrist broken, fingers gnarled, head hanging in the air with the stench of blood and defeat to accompany him. There was nothing he could do, brain on fire, crippled by the damage done to his body, no exit strategy to be had, no winning, no getting out of this, it's time, it's now, finally, no--

If he couldn't get to the finish line, if he couldn't find the sanguine star and revive them, then this...this was the next best thing. This was his only other option. People like him...they didn't deserve their chance to fix things, didn't have the right, hands too soiled, putrid and rotten to the core. Torn in half on whether to live or die, inklings of coveted confidence and strength lost, lost, never his to keep. He thought of his mother then, his father too, and his sisters, Letha and Silvere, Antonetta, Beau and Jackie, everyone, everyone he'd ever wronged, who suffered his existence, the fruits of his agonies, his hate, his anger. And he wondered if this would be a fitting end for him in their eyes, if this was what they wanted for him too. Let justice be served, let him die so none else could fall alongside him. Let there be no more blood to wash his hands, stop him now.

On the verge of losing consciousness, Loux was beginning to succumb to it all, the furthest reaches of him aching to numb and crumble away. So in tune with his body, yet somehow torn away from it completely, a ghost in the same position. But a final blow to his already ruined stomach had been the end of it, new blood gushing from impaling wounds, and he lay there, limply, overwhelmed, near to falling apart at a moment's notice. He should've been dead minutes ago, yet somehow...somehow, he wasn't. Somehow, his eyes were still open, staring blearily into his reflection, seeing nothing more and nothing less than what he hated most of all - beaten, gored, broken to pieces, as was right and true. Breaths short, shaky, and few, skipping, catching in his throat as radiant warmth was born anew inside him, tendrils of cool fire weakly stretching into even his most damaged of nerves.

Time, lapsed.

As the seven heaved and hoed, moving away from him, satisfied in their work- He had no strength to speak of, but he wouldn't let them leave so easily, not as magic returned to him, even if only little by little.

He willed another spark, begged it to catch flame and burn, burn until there was nothing left, roar and twist and grow far into the night sky until naught but red could be seen, blending into bloody violet with the abyss. For he was nothing, nothing if not vengeful, nothing if not a sore winner, nothing if not an opportunist, even in the end, even when his deserved fate had come for him - maybe there was weaseling his way out. Changing with the wind, coaxing his bloid to boil and serve as fuel on the fire, as tangerine flickered across his face, iron cooking before his very eyes.

Bigger, taller, greater, hotter, eat and scorch away bedframes, wall art, blankets, curtains, wardrobes, and shitty knock-off decor, thick black smoke billowing into the room, ash flying as chars burst and crumbled. Slow at first, then all at once consuming. Cosmic threads blanketing his seven adversaries in universal flame, such that attached to spirit and bone, cutting jaggedly through flesh, boiling and pustulating, popping, cracking, exploding on fat deposits, bursts spreading the wildfire. He watched, coldly, through the blurr of his storm, eyes nearly swollen shut, as the bulls both thrashed in the hall, horns getting stuck in the wood, choking on the smoke, panicking, screaming, roaring. Hellflame claws searing through them, the scent of his blood intermingling with their roasting meat, skin sloughing then steadily charring, the antelope and the wolf and the gator all to follow. Aching eyes flit toward the rest, the final pair, timid creatures too afraid to use their voices, bolting in their panic to get away. Frightened rabbit, flightless songbird, flame snaking between bodies turned blackened skeletons crusted with ash, like whips to coil around their ankles and drag them back in.

He killed them all, running the final two through with arrow-sharpened bolts born of the flames now catching on the cieling above, and he listened in trepidation and cold indifference as they screamed and pleaded for their lives. Prayed to their worthless gods in the hopes They might save them. His fire spread yet further, claiming the support beams above and funneling into the hallway, where it would continue on its path, neither smoke nor tongue to damage him further, contrarily cauterizing open wounds, wrapping him in arms of orange light - his, however dim. Stinging, burning, he winced all the same, laying in the mess he'd made, the bed he ought to sleep in.

He killed them, he killed again, and again, enveloping the Packhouse in his unending, devouring flame. Merciless, overkill, as it kept burning, a haven for his kind no longer - a haven for none at all - but a blackmark, a lie the people of Salem's Crossing would tell their children, and an omnipresent threat. Ever to blame, ever at fault, and such was true. He instigated, he fucked around, and they tore him limb from limb, and while he hadn't counted on his stroke of luck, that magic should return to him so quickly, he would've been a fool to have let all this stand. A false victory for them all, for many would die after dealing just punishment, killing all with smoke or raw kindles, fire, structural damage--

In time, he knew the Packhouse would collapse, and he wondered if he'd die after all. His head hurt, he couldn't breathe, couldn't move. If he could increase his heat... Palms sweating, he coughed, ribs rattling, aching-- Lashline sparking, puffs of smoke to mingle with the clouds, his flame growing ever further, filling into every square inch of every surface, orange and black eaten by rolling waves of violent red.

[megiddo-ichi]

hey i got a questions. whats... a good starting point to get into tokusatsu? i know its a long running genre with a lot going on, but my knowledge is limited to osmosis via power rangers and a small amount of super sentai. oh and viewtiful joe

To be honest it really depends on what you're after. Since Toku can kinda go anywhere and far beyond Kamen Rider and Sentai, you don't exactly lack options for where you want to go with it. To give some ideas of what I recommend tho:

Kamen Rider Black(1987): Generally one of the most highly rated rider seasons and one of the best in the showa era for getting into the franchise in genera.

Kamen Rider Kuuga(2000): Best as a slow burn character drama as well as easing into the 2000s as a sort of rebirth season since the franchise took a bit of a hiatus in the 90s. Ultimately a really good starting point. Also directly available for streaming thanks to Shout Factory TV.

Chojin Sentai Jetman(1991): While I am less familiar with sentai, I know Jetman generally gets a lot of fanfare in terms of its writing and presentation(to the point that it's referenced heavily and visibly in persona to the point of being a major plot point in 2). It's also the season that came out directly before the season that became Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, so that's something to keep in mind.

Garo: Chapter of the Black Wolf(2005): Now this is the toku series I'm most familiar with. If you like mature, higher budget productions by toku alums for adult audiences, while also staying true to the nature of the henshin hero genre, you can't go wrong here. Also another easily accessible show due to being officially subbed on the Garo Project youtube channel.

Also Jam project. Love me some Jam project.

Also for some anime related recommendations.

Garo: The carved seal of flames(2014): Pre-JJK Mappa at its finest imo, in terms of animation, music, and staying true to the themes of the live action series. Plus CG that actually looks good and gets used well.

Samurai Flammenco(2013): A generally fun and fine show about a man following his dreams of being a hero. Mostly put here because no one talks about shows made by Studio Manglobe anymore(RIP).

Miss Kuroitsu from the Monster Development Department(2022): A dumb fun series about an evil faction that makes Kaijin. About what you'd expect in terms of 'girl responsible for evil science has to go through the board and deal with the local toku hero at the same time'.

Love after World Domination(2022): If you've ever seen that one clip of Gekisou Sentai Carranger, where the red ranger asks out the female villain general, this is what that show is essentially. Like word for word bar for bar.

Ranger Reject(currently airing): I could be unkind and call it the boys but Sentai, but I mean that in a good way. Essentially it's 'what if the rangers were evil and using the villain faction as everyday entertainment for the masses' and one lone foot soldier infiltrating their group. Generally highly recommended among most.

Still don't like them localizing it as "Go Go Loser Ranger" tho.

[garoumylove]

Coach Eiko ^.^

[emerson-grimes-apologist]

Pspspspspsp any sunny headcanons ? :)

I have a few (:

I headcanon her and everyone living in Sand Lands to be of a different race called Sandlandians, who have adapted to the hot climate. They have blue skin and look sort of reptilian. (I should develop them more sometime...)

She was exiled from Saloon City for commiting some crime (probably stealing) and forced to wander Sand Lands. This is how she got so hardened and badass. If anyone else was wandering the desert, they might have come across her tall, ominous silhouette in the distance accompanied by gunshots. She was somewhat of a cryptid, actually.

Once, she was on the brink of death, and Horace found her and saved her. This was NOT out of the goodness of his heart, but rather, he had just formed the Rubber Fishes and was really desperate to find crew members, and he knew if he saved her life, she would owe him a life debt and then he could get her to join his crew. Sunny wasn't too enthusiastic about this, but she did want to repay him.

She likes to hide her arms/weapons in her poncho deliberately, like the Garo from Majora's Mask. She has like 4 guns in there. She's a gunslinger!

I imagine her having kind of a soft, feminine, Southern-accented voice to contrast her appearance. Although it's still husky and tough-sounding in a way.

She's not mute. She just honestly doesn't see a point in talking to her crewmates because they would just ignore her and continue to act stupid.

It's not that she dislikes her crewmates per se, she just really really dislikes working as part of a group. She's a lone wolf.

Sometimes if she gets too cold, she has to lay on the deck in the sun to warm up. Like a lizard.

[yashahimewasamistake]

The Links and their spiritual awareness:

Hyrule. He can see ghinis (ghosts) just fine. He can also see red moas and by using a cross, he can see blue moas.

Legend. By using a pair of glasses, he can see Hint ghosts. He can also see Poes with his bare eyes.

Time. He can see Poes and spirits (Mikau's spirit). With the Eye of Truth he can see invisible Poes and invisible ghosts (Darunia's spirit). He can also fight against Garos.

Wind. He has an adventure/dream inside a ghost ship.

Twilight. As a wolf, he can see invisible Poes. As a human, he saw and listened to Rutela's spirit.

Sky . He interacted with a ghost hand.

Four. He can also fight against ghinis. Or fuse Kinstones. He also helped a ghost to move to the next plane by fusing a Kinstone with his brother.

Wild. He interacted with the spirits of his deceased friends.

[ultramantr1gger]

garo icon?

yes garo icon wolf armor with the earrings

originally it was this with some filters but i decided a less dark image was better

[thenixkat]

All this werewolf tv is making me think about a werewolf superhero thing

unfortunately, i have so many fucking werewolf story ideas. So fucking many

Kind of want to combine that Garo-inspired immortal wolf warrior that fights ghosts and demons that occassionally takes on apprentices to teach the art of heroic werewolfing to from one of my fics and my favorites of my werewolf prompts. But the how to combine them is not meshing

[purple-link]

Alisaie and Purple Link

FFXIV Write 2024 Story Entry

Spoiler: Story takes place after WoL reaches Garlemald in Endwalker, but but before the Tower of Babil dungeon. Story will be largely sfw, but will adhere to FFXIV's level of mature storytelling.

Chapter 27: Memory

Back in the days of the warring states, the Lupin who had traveled from the west had settled for a while in Othard. By the time their participation had run its course, they had lost a lot of their population, the wolves pushed to the brink of their lives.

One wolf, in particular, simply named Garo, had been running himself ragged, trying to collect as many people as he could, trying to build a foundation. Every conflict he had been in had pretty much reduced his numbers.

With the Rijin Clan taking most of Othard, everyone had basically started to pal around with Ganen, and it was amazing to him how such a ruthless campaigner could be uniting so many people under his flag.

Well, not if Garo had anything to say about it.

That day, however, it was hard to prove. He wasn’t having a very good day. He was trying to get his people around a cavern, to try to cut off one the enemy's armies from their camp. He���d forgotten which one.

One small problem: he was very bad with directions. He was one of the strongest Lupin his race had ever known, and he won every challange to be alpha of his soldiers, but give him a map without help, and he may as well have led his whole race into the ocean.

He wasn’t very proud of this. Today was another one of those days. One part of his army was holding defenses against enemy lines, the other part was seeking to break though them.

Another one of his bright ideas led a squadron his army into a cavern with no end in sight, and his soldiers were starting to get on his wick.

“Boss Garo, this is madness!” said one of the Lupin, “We’ve been here for hours, there is no way out of this mountain.”

Garo turned sharply and growled at his soldiers, silencing them all. While he was much bigger than they were, it only about a difference of a foot. It was still enough to make them step back by the sheer surprise of it.

“I am not going to let a mountain defeat me!” said Garo, “We have sacrificed too much, and gave too many lives just for the last of us to suddenly die in a mountain somewhere! I will not let that happen!”

“Pardon my saying, sir,” said another Lupin, “but as lost as we are, we currently don’t have much of a choice.”

“It’s this ruddy nose of mine,” said Garo, “I should have known better than to fight while sick with a cold.”

He leant back against the wall. He felt his pack for something he could light. Maybe if he didn’t feel like he was freezing.

“I think we should make camp for the night,” said Garo, “We’ll pick this up again in the morning.”

But his argument wasn’t convincing. Even sick with a cold, they believed he could power his way through anything, but getting lost was a whole other matter.

Conversations of dissent were already spreading through the squadron.

“I don’t think Garo’s got the barrier he thinks he has, to defend our people,” said a campfire, off to his left, “If he can’t get this route performed, we may be signing our death warrants.”

“Oh, gods, that’s all I need,” said Garo, to his favorite lieutenant, Yuki, a female, “I have spent a lifetime gathering all my Lupin, and getting them united against our enemies, and now that we have a solid chance, I go and catch a ruddy cold.

"Thal’s balls, of all the rotten luck.”

“If they challenge you, it’s all over,” said Yuki, “You sure you can take the pressure?”

“Of course I can!” said Garo, arguing, “It’s my race or my life! There’s no way in the seven hells that…”

He stopped midway through. He sneezed terribly. Yuki sighed impatiently, and whipped out another handkerchief. He took it appreciatively.

“Thanks for that,” said Garo, “Now, if I had my nose, I’d probably be able to get us out of here like a shot.”

“Yes, curious how inconvient that is,” said Yuki, “And yet, my nose is working just fine, and I still can’t sniff the outside. I think we’re well and truly lost, my friend.”

“Yuki,” said Garo, blowing his nose noisily, “You are, once again, a fount of optimism.”

He put his paw on his forehead, feeling it throb. He was getting sicker.

“Screw it,” said Garo, “We sleep here tonight, ladies and gentlemen. Grab a partner, share the body heat. I want two watches at both ends, at all times.”

But he couldn’t sleep. Part of it was because he was stuffed to all hells, but it was also because this wasn’t the first time his alpha male status was challenged.

If he couldn’t survive now, a new Lupin was going to take charge, and he’d already sacrificed a ton of his time to make sure they were not only defendable but sustainable. Most of southern Yanxia was all theirs.

Meanwhile, the Rijin clan, thinking them hoity-toity, all lived up on the cliffs, their opulent community allowed them to look down at beastmen and try to put them in their place.

He hated that feeling. Not that he couldn’t deal with a beneficial agreement between clans, but no one had offered one to him yet. Every person he’d fought was basically the first time he’d fought them.

He was tired of the fighting, tired of wondering if his race was going to extinguish, like a flame upon a candle. The very thought made his legs restless.

Trying not to wake Yuki, lying next to him, he silently stepped out.

Bugger, he thought, the watch. How can a leader of wild Lupin get a silent and brooding walk to himself if he couldn’t sneak past his own people? He was just going to have to busk it.

“I am going to look around for a spring, or a well,” said Garo, whispering to his watch, “I will not go far.”

“Keep yourself safe,” said one of his watchmen, “I’d recommend taking someone with you.”

“No, I am not going that far,” said Garo, hoping that was true, “Keep an eye on the party. If anything should happen to me, help them get out of this blasted mountain.”

“Thy will be done,” said the watchman, saluting. Garo groaned.

“Oh, stop talking fancy,” said Garo, “We’re not hyur or Roegadyn, and we don’t need to illuminate our speech. We’re just creatures.”

“Sorry, sir, but I don’t believe that,” said the watchman, “The day I believe us lesser than the other races is the day that I get a spear from your own blade.”

Garo smirked agreeably.

“That’s a good way to see it,” said Garo, “Normally, I’d have you spitting my authority around the camp to fire up the lads. I know that all the respect I’ve earned is not going to be in vain.”

He put a paw up to his head. He felt like he was getting worse.

“But please, just give me a minute,” said Garo, exhaustedly, “I’m more than happy to spread my doctrine, right now, I just wanna be me and be sick.”

“Suit yourself sir,” said the watchman, “Again, be careful. I know you’re one of the strongest Lupin in the army, but even you have your weaknesses.”

“That’s smart of you to mention,” said Garo, “Give me a salute, and maybe I’ll feel better.”

He did. And he did not.

“At ease, soldier,” said Garo, waving goodbye as he moved, “I will be back before the dawn.”

Yet another smart move, idiot, he thought to himself, You just left your squadron alone in a labyrinth they’re hopelessly lost in, and it was your idea. Now you’re all by yourself.

He tried listening for running water, but he was picking up nothing. He could smell nothing but ash and dust. And that was when he could breathe.

Eventually, he ran into a cavern, and here, he could feel, much less see the water. He trundled along, looking for a pool deep enough he could just plunge his head in.

Unfortunately, that was when the fever hit. He fell like a bag of bricks down one side of the wall. It was hanging over another level of the cave.

The Lupin felt his body slide down the wall, going unconscious right when he landed in the arms of someone else…

…

The Lupin stared up into the ceiling. He was feeling a bit better, but he wasn’t sure why. His head still throbbed.

Maybe it had been a couple of hours. Maybe it had been a couple of days. He was hoping that there was enough rations for his men to get out of the cave. Without his nose, he was doing bugger-all to help.

“Pray, do not move or speak,” said an unfamiliar voice outside of his range, “You will only make yourself worse.”

The figure stepped above him, his blade fastened to his belt.

It was a hyur, he noticed, and one he recognized very well. His blood would boil, if the rest of him wasn’t boiling along with it. He coughed and coughed again.

The hyur had his hair pulled back. The young man had a wispy little mustache to accompany his wispy little beard. He seemed a little anxious, and mollycoddled over the Lupin as he got sicker.

You wouldn’t have guessed at first glance that this man was a vicious warlord who ruled in Othard over all the races who swore loyalty to him.

“Ganen,” said Garo, his voice creaky, “Ganen Rijin.”

“I have half a mind to call you a simpleton” said Ganen, the Lupin too sick to react to this, “I know you’re this aggressive Lupin leader, but you’d think you’d be able to notice when a cold was coming during an assault.”

“There is no other way,” said Garo, “Enemy forces are assembling at my border, along with yours. This was the only way that I could cut them off.”

He then coughed again, realizing that Ganen was hovering over the Lupin with a wet cloth.

“What are you doing here?” said Garo, “I thought men like you slept in tents, with riches and swords surrounding your bed, and nothing but bodyguards to protect you.”

“First of all, that’s other leaders, not me,” said Ganen, "and secondly…"

He faltered slightly, starting to become defensive.

“I dont’t want to talk about it.”

The Lupin looked at Ganen putting the cloth on the Lupin’s forehead. He smiled and started to laugh.

“H-Hey, don’t laugh!” said Ganen, “It’s not the coldest water.”

“You’re lost too, huh, little boy?” said Garo. Ganen blushed deeply.

“That’s not…” said Ganen, “I’m exploring the caves, alright? I haven't been down the stratum.”

“That sounds like a lie,” said Garo, “I appreciate the kind gestures, but if you weren’t ready to slash a throat-”

“Are you kidding?!” said Ganen, the warlord, who looked grossly offended, “I don’t want to kill anybody!”

“How foolish of you, then,” said Garo, “Killing is an inevitable part of war–”

“No, you don’t understand,” said Ganen, “It’s not just a matter of principle.”

Garo looked at the young hyur curiously, and then he shook his head.

“Fine,” said Garo, “Tell me, what do you think is the most important part of war?”

He coughed.

“I am sick, I am weak. Take my life,” said Garo, “I am at your mercy. You kill me, you have my army. You could get rid of years of conflict–”

“What a waste,” said Ganen, sadly. Garo’s ears perked up.

“What’s that?” said Garo, suddenly feeling irritated, “If you’re not going to kill me, then you’re a lousy warrior.”

Ganen stood up and sighed.

“I don’t want to kill you, period,” said Ganen, “I want to see you live.”

"That’s kind of you,” said Garo, feeling himself shiver, cautiously taking the canteen of water from Ganen’s hands to drink, “But you do realize that, even without a weapon, I could kill you with one swipe of my claws.”

“First of all, good luck, I’ve got great reflexes,” said Ganen, “Secondly, I don’t care whether you kill me or not. I’m not going to let another soul suffer.”

Garo was too tired and too sick for these games. It was his decisions that got him into this mess, and he didn’t need to complicate it by playing political sport.

“Fine, you win,” said Garo, “Heal me. I don’t care anymore. I am a bit curious why a savage warlord is working to cure one of his most bitter enemies.”

Ganen sat next to the wolf. He was waiting for a moment to change his forehead cloth. His eyes moved from side-to-side, visibly trying to make a decision, before he finally made one.

“...I am a bit lost,” said Ganen, “These walls all look similar after a while.”

Garo chuckled, even if it made his body hurt. Ganen shook his head.

“What’s the matter?” asked Garo.

“Such self-deprecation. You can't be serious,” said Ganen. Garo frowned at this.

“Impudent fool,” said Garo, “Just because I’m sick doesn’t mean I’m stupid. I know what position I’m in right now, I’m not about to lie to myself. But don’t think for a minute this diminishes my stature.

“The minute I am well enough to walk on my own,” said Garo, “I will cut through you.”

“Can you really do that?” asked Ganen. Garo rolled his eyes.

“Do what?” said Garo.

“It’s just,” said Ganen, “It’s stuff like that. Your claws, your tail.”

“...Yeah?” said Garo, getting more impatient.

“I quite admire them,” said Ganen. Garo blushed a little too deeply. He turned his head away.

“You’re just a boy,” said Garo, “You’d think carriages with doors are admirable.”

“And they are,” said Ganen, “The really ornate ones are the ones you could tell they spent a lot of time and equations on getting just right. I only have a bland, simple one.”

“Not that you need much, do you, warmonger?” said Garo. Ganen frowned.

“Why do you keep calling me that?” said Ganen.

“Your people,” said Garo, leaning on his elbows, trying to look the young man in the eye, “have been responsible for the deaths of my people since my grandfather’s time. Why should I be in your debt?”

“Y’know, you can act as arrogant as you like,” said Ganen, “I really don’t care. I’m here, on my own, trying to gather as much data as I can about these tunnels. I stumble into you, I notice you’re Garo, the leader of the Lupin armies.”

Garo’s fur stood on end. He already knew who he was, even as he was falling to his death.

“Now, I know you don’t believe me, but I don’t care,” said Ganen, blushing lightly, “Lupin are such glorious creatures. I think all beastmen are glorious.

"Call me selfish, call me what you will, but even if it was my worst enemy, I would still nurse them back to health. I have enough knowledge from what I learned from the White Mages to be able to give my possible best.

“I don’t expect you to be grateful,” said Ganen, “I don’t expect you to thank me. I just want to see you healthy.”

Garo looked on in wonder, not really believing what he was hearing.

“Those are the words of a child!” said Garo, “How could you be so naive? There are soldiers that are out for our blood, right now, clans you haven’t swayed with your impossible swagger–”

“You have a very fluffed up opinion of me,” said Ganen, “All I did was ask people if they wanted to stop fighting, and they said yes. It’s really not more complicated than that.”

“What about ceremonies, treaties, diplomacy,” said Garo, “That takes time. We can’t all just get along.”

“If you think I’m taking this lightly, then you are the fool,” said Ganen, and here, Garo started to hear the man of legend through his words, “I have men, whom I trust, that are responsible for the big words, the massive logistics that it takes to rally together all that had separated us for years, just because we were in a war for supremacy.

"I wanted out the minute I became the leader.

“My father died, and I had to learn, very quickly, what it took to lead the people” said Ganen, “I have to make a lot of quick decisions, not all of them good.

"Every time a person dies by my hands, a little part of me dies. I’m trying very hard to keep that from happening.”

“So, what, you’re just exploring the tunnels as a hobby?” said Garo, frankly, “You, who are in charge of a whole nation…of…”

His eyes widened. Tears were forming at the end of the young man’s eyes.

“By the beard of Ramuh,” said Garo, suddenly very fearful, “You’re serious, aren’t you? You really don’t want to be here.”

“I’ve tried everything,” said Ganen, “I’ve even tried to get Gyosei to explore any tunnels underwater, but–”

“You hired an astrologer?” said Garo, suddenly hopeful, “You hired a fortune teller?”

“No,” said Ganen, “I’ve got support from a friend.”

He heard the bell before he saw it. Garo’s hopefulness died the moment he saw the whiskers.

Coming up the other end of the cavern was a small little guy. He was basically those walking catfish, wearing nothing but a red apron and a dream. In fact, the only thing that was different about him was that he was wearing an astrologian’s planisphere on his back.

“Oh, good gods,” said Garo, leaning back down, “Please don’t tell me you were the one who taught that thing a healer’s trade.”

Gyosei, because that’s what the Namazu’s name is, put his fin up to his mouth in curiosity.

“Oh, my, yes yes,” said the Namazu, “I see we have visitors, Ganen.”

Several hours had passed, during which Garo eventually got well enough to start moving around on his feet.

The little astrologian tried his darndest to use magic to heal him, but it seemed the Namazu barely had the skill. Enough had gotten through, however, that he was able to cure most of the illness from the Lupin’s body.

All he really had to deal with was a runny nose and the tiniest bit of fatigue.

The problem was that the little catfish could only do bits of it at a time, and then rested until he got his strength back to come back and heal again.

Finally, after getting his gear together, he went up to the young lad, who was ready to set off himself.

“Thanks for the help, but I’m afraid I must away with me,” said Garo, “I owe you one, but believe me, the next time we see one another, I fear it must be on the field of battle.”

Ganen looked at Garo curiously, and then saw the big wolf set off on his own again. He looked quickly at the Namazu, who merely shrugged and shook his head, until the young man caught up with the Lupin again.

“Wait a minute!” said Ganen, “I need your help if we’re going to get out of these tunnels.”

“You’re a surprisingly deeply-layered young man,” said Garo, “And I do appreciate the kindness, but my soldiers are in these tunnels, and if they’re still here, I need to find them.”

He sniffed noisily.

“If my nose wasn’t stuffed up right now…” said Garo, upset.

“You need help,” said Ganen, “You need my help. There is no other way.”

Garo looked at Ganen irritably.

“...Fine,” said Garo, finally, “But I move pretty fast. I’m going to leave you behind, if you can’t keep up.”

“Don’t worry about me,” said Ganen, “While I can’t profess I know these tunnels enough, like the back of my hand, so to say, I can get around here just fine on my own two feet.”

Garo had an idea of what that was like. The moment that Garo picked up speed, moving along the tunnels at a clip, Ganen was somehow moving faster, and that was with a little Namazu in his arms.

“I have tiny little legs, yes yes,” said Gyosei, who seemed somehow proud of this statement.

At one point, there was a huge scorpion, his huge tail striking out at the two as they fought it. Garo couldn't dig his claws into its skin.

"Blast it," said Garo, "I feel like scratching stone!"

"You are injured, yes yes?" said the namazu, "I will heal!"

The namazu brought his arms around, making the planisphere float in his fin. As the cards spun around, he plucked one card out of the air.

"Behold, the power of Malefic!"

Poof! The magic puttered out like a barely sufficient rainstorm.

"Odd," said Gyosei, "I was assured I was making progress on my efficacy..."

"Oh, for the love of-" said Ganen, and he brought his hands to the ground.

After a severe shaking of the ground, a huge rock dislodged from the ceiling, falling and crushing the scorpion with its weight. After the dust had fallen, Garo shrieked at the top of his lungs.

"Imbecile!" said Garo, "You could have brought the whole mountain on top of us!"

"Impossible," said Ganen, "I can read the rock. I'm a geomancer."

"...Fine, I'll bite," said Garo, putting his head in his paws.

"I was taught the craft," said Ganen, flexing his arms, "It's not exactly helpful for getting out of dark tunnels, but it does give me control over the earth.

"You'd be surprised how much easier it is to route armies if you can hear their hoofbeats through the ground."

Garo folded his arms, watching the young man take the lead again.

"...That is genuinely impressive," said Garo.

Eventually, Garo started to make a game of escaping the caves.

They ran into a cavern with deep water, with only thin pillars of rock that led to a level higher in the caves. Garo smiled evilly, and started moving from rock to rock, leaping like a leopard from one pillar to another…except that he was a wolf.

Ganen was able to do it, amazingly, without a tail, and with far more grace than he did. Eventually, it turned into a race. Garo smiled enthusiastically at Ganen, who smiled back.

Garo’s footpaws eventually got the best of him, and he mistimed the jump to the ledge at the last second. As he began to fall from a large height, onto pillars that weren’t so dull, Ganen held out his hand for Garo to grasp.

Jumping on any chance to not die, Garo whipped out his paw and clasped as tightly as he could onto Ganen’s arm, his claws digging into the young lord’s arm out of pure anxiety. He was dangling over the ledge.

Garo looked into Ganen’s eyes, and he saw, within the lad, a genuine eagerness for the Lupin to live. A small feeling of gratitude grew in Garo then, one that increased in size into sincere respect.

…He really didn’t want him to die, thought Garo. He eventually climbed up the ledge, in front of Ganen. He was so scared, he grasped Ganen in a hug. They both peeked over the edge.

“Thal’s balls,” said Garo, “I thought I was going to die.”

“It’s a good thing you have me here,” said Ganen, who was half-joking. Garo knew he was half-joking, but he stood up and tried to restore what little dignity he had.

“I…Certainly,” said Garo, “But I’m sure I would have thought of something.”

“Would you?”

“No, actually, I was going to get skewered by those rocks,” said Garo, turning around with exhaustion, admitting he was bluffing, “I would have legitimately died if it weren’t for you. I want to thank you.”

“Let’s get your fellows out of this cave, first,” said Ganen, pointing a finger up, “Then you can thank me.”

It took a little bit longer than he liked, but he eventually found his soldiers, still lost in the tunnels. Thankfully, he hadn’t lost a single one.

“Garo, thank goodness!” said Yuki, brightness in her eyes, “We eventually had to press on, after you had been gone for so long. We thought you had died.”

“You made the right choice,” said Garo, “Better that the army lives on and protects its citizens than have to answer for an absent leader.”

They had still become defensive. Apparently, they either didn’t appreciate Ganen being there, or they really hated catfish.

“Who is this…man?” said one of the Lupin, “Why do you have one of the Rijin Clan with you?”

“Ganen is, he’s…” said the Lupin, turning to the hyur, curious about this himself. Ganen shrugged, as if to say, “my fate is in your hands.”

That’s funny, thought Garo, that sounds like something that he himself would have said.

“He’s a very good friend of mine,” answered Garo, eventually. This was mostly to get all of them out of the cave, including the Namazu.

Garo was so grateful, he hugged Ganen much more genuinely.

This open expression of affection from a Lupin gave rise to those who would splinter off into their own groups, but it was so moving, a lot of people weren’t surprised decades later, when Garo also swore fealty to the young man.

What followed was a series of adventures, mostly towards protecting Doma and all of its citizen, which included the Lupin, who were able to proliferate and multiply, and also the Namazu, who were just ebullient to be there.

Several years into their employment, with a generous pension plan added as well, Garo eventually learned that Ganen was planning a celebration. When he pressed the man, Ganen chuckled lightly.

“I thought it would be nice,” said Ganen, his beard a little longer these days, “When we signed the documents to unify Othard, it was all very cold and procedural.

"I thought it would be a lot more fun to include some of my people’s festival booths and some food and–”

“Say no more,” said Garo, his lips smacking, “Just the idea of a feast has my lips salivating.”

Of course, the memory of the garo yasumi, or the Festival of the Fanged-Wolf, lives on today, and for almost 800 years, they celebrated the union of Lupin and Doman cultures, living for generations in harmony and security.

For most, these memories would twist and fray, suddenly becoming less and less dependable after a time, to the veracity of the events that happened between Ganen Rijin and Garo, the Lupin leader who would become his friend.

Who knows if even this story is really what happened…

To be continued…