#zura writes

[ran-orimoto]

I don't know to whom praying to get something about Chiaki written by you. If you accept commissions in writing I'd run

I don’t accept commissions but you could still give me inspos! It would be a pleasure to me. Still, the good news is that I have already written about Chiaki once, though it’s just a bad introduction of her in MTTCI told by Junpei’s point of view. I don’t know when I will take MTTCI in my hands again, but I think it should happen before Christmas because you all always asking about Chiaki makes it hard to resist to such a temptation.

[ Context of the chapter is Junpei, for some specific reason explained later, has accepted to sing for a spectacle in a ballet academy. Since the dancers are practicing, he has been left outside, on a bench, and he has incredibly (LOL ahahah) been chatting with a rather lively Izumi. This is the end of the chapter and it contains fatphobiac insults, as the random OC I added in here is just an a$$ (like Junpei eh, ahahah. I have no mercy in anyone’s regards in the lame world of MTTCI). ]

[ …]

Despite the utter mess he was making while chatting with Izumi, he couldn’t deny she was still making him feel like he had been taken up to the sky she adored so much, had been walking on dreamy clouds for who knew how long. Now, though, some aggressive noise had accidentally made him let go of Izumi’s grip making sure he wouldn’t fall from such a height.

But he had. He had down into a place as immense as the expanse where he came from yet colder, much colder than that one.

“Nakamura-San!”

She marched out of the frozen room without looking back, decelerating only to bring her fingers behind her head. With a single gesture, an undulating motion of her wrist, she unraveled her low chignon in a cascade of dark chocolate, her long pail neck leaning forward in a liberating reflex.

She totally ignored his presence, just like the one of a skinny young man trotting after her.

“Nakamura-San, wait! We have been fantastic! Today I told myself we could really be the best duo out there. Imagine…Us starring in the most famous theatres in Europe, at New York’s Metropolitan too.”

Oh no, dude, you’re so pathetic, please, In the background of that mushy romantic film he didn’t absolutely want to be an extra of, Junpei found it impossible to grimace. And it’s not only because of those ridiculous tights I thank Heavens I could never wear in my life. She’s not interested, indeed, she detests you. She is repulsed by you. She isn’t even looking at you in the face, man!

Not even impulsively grabbing the girl’s hand to force her to turn helped him in his intent, until…

“Chiaki, listen…!”

At his touch her shoulders had already tensed, but that physical response affected her whole body once she heard what Junpei soon discovered it was her first name.

Dumb move. How can you be so stupid?, Junpei asked himself, slowly opening his bag to find a book into which plunging his disinterest. That was such an ashaming spectacle: he wasn’t going to give his eyes that unfair treatment. They didn’t deserve it. Still, surely, it would be so nice if they acknowledged he was there and they were showing a stranger their mutual lack of respect and tact. If he had worn one of his coveralls, they would have undoubtedly seen him. It would have been flashier than the lame blue salopettes he was wearing on a simple orange sweatshirt.

“It’s Nakamura. Nakamura-San for you, to be precise,” She stared into her interlocutor’s restless orbs, her face stuck in a stern arrangement, a detail Junpei casually grasped while searching for a specific page of his music sheet.

“Su-Sur-“

“And, sorry to tell you,” She insisted, cutting him short, impassive. Junpei’s focus would usually take a while to get used to reading and studying, so it was normal he was keeping on getting distracted, wondering how her eyebrows weren’t minimally curving because of her distress. “We haven’t been fantastic. You were out of step, your arms were feeling like noodles on my hips and you would have also stepped on my foot, if I hadn’t made my leg slip backwards on purpose.“

“T-Then…You have been fantastic…Nakamura-San?”’

Junpei’s thinned irises travelled through the lines of the same stave back and forth, hopping on the scribbles occasionally warping the notes’ circular shapes, dwelling on those more than on what he was supposed to be working on. The environment had grown too taciturn for him to animate that mute paper in his mind, so he got unavoidably led to diverting his intellectual efforts on some other topic, on the trembling muscles of the black-haired lad and the statue in front of him.

A statue ready to flee from her despised pedestal.

“I’m sorry, Kobayashi-San,” She sighed, closing her spheres whose shade was still unknown to Junpei. Incredibly, he perceived a minimal turmoil in those features, maybe just a fruit of his fervid imagination.

He also sensed a pang in his stomach at the sight of the young woman, of that Chiaki, leaving her dance partner there , without adding a clarification to that apologize holding so much else in itself. Junpei couldn’t understand why he had got that hunch, -and he wasn’t interested in finding out the reason behind it, no!-, but he could confess to himself it was hurting, somehow. Cautiously observing the profile of the dejected ballet dancer, the tremors of his lips, the abandoned dangling of his limbs next to his hips was having a certain effect on him.

But ,again, he didn’t know why.

He didn’t…

The young man stood in that same spot for a whole minute, losing his dismay in the undefined shadows projected in the near corridor. Then, he found the strength to forge steel fists of frustration and viciously send a glare to the uninvited spectator. That was a decision Junpei should have expected at some point, but he had foolishly grown convinced he had become invisible. Thus, he had lowered his guard and consequently had- he had to admit it, regrettably-, minded about someone else’s business, someone else’s disgrace.

“What are you looking at, eh? Tell me. Don’t you have anything else to do, fatso?”

“Hey,” So, they were starting like that, weren’t they? It was typical. “Since I’m a fatso, you should have noticed I was here. Don’t I occupy this entire bench?” In spite of the heat the young man’s comment had generated in his throat, he wasn’t going to yell in a refined ballet academy, but that didn’t mean he would allow him to disrespect him. “Joke’s on you, man, if you have decided to talk about private matters here.”

“Whatever you say,” The young man replied, displaying his interior weakness once more. Judging from that little he had managed to analyze in the previous confrontation with the girl, he could state he was a spineless and submissive kind of dude. The only thing he could do was to look down on others, as if he had the right to do so. Probably, in his life he had met people giving him the freedom to act in such a superb way, but in that case he could do that just because Junpei was sitting and he was standing. “Looking at you, I wonder how much you have eaten to become so fat.“

“Excuse me…?” Even if he had muttered that question while concealing his shame under his bangs, those words stained with poison had still been spat on Junpei’s appalled face.

“Yes, in the photos on Facebook you look so different. And thinner. What has happened to you?”

It happened that I’m not the same person, easy, He reminded himself, painfully clenching his jaw as a photo of a slightly older opera student materialized in his memories: sliced back hair just like his yet much darker, cocky grin challenging the camera and flash, a stately poise, a handsome, an exceptionally handsome raising star of the lyrical singing panorama.

“Uhm…It’s a bit hard to explain,” The commotion in his tone had faded, his fiery spirit had been tamed by an imposing energy. And he hated that.

“I don’t care ,don’t worry. I’m just laughing at the fact the girls were so excited about this beautiful tenor who was supposed to come. Oh well, better for me. Now that Chiaki is mad at me, I still can try with Kikuchi-San. She is the third girl in the second row, can you see her? She is not as curvy as Chiaki, but-“

“Kobayashi dude, whatever you’re called, now I’m the one telling you I don’t care, man,” He snapped at him, but still turned. He did not because he was curious about who this girl was, what he looked like: when he said he didn’t care, he was serious about it since there only was a girl on Earth mattering to him. He did because Fate had decided that morning would be troublesome to him and had to keep on being such until the end, until he would escape from that chicken coop.

If he had to be honest with himself, however, that definition didn’t really feel that fitting once he found himself surrounded by minuscule shimmers directly pointed at him, on his lumbering silhouette. He was feeling more like if he had become the visitor of an aquarium being contemplated by a shoal of fish that had gathered and attached their mouths to the glass, their thoughts incomprehensible to the human on the opposite side.

Yet, Junpei had experienced the same emotion even without a glass in the middle of his life, even a second after he had put foot in there, had bowed before a displeased audience, had continued smiling despite anything.

Despite being aware he wasn’t the one everyone had been waiting for.

I’m so sick of this place, Izumi-Chan. For real.

[suchine-toki]

(One more) Top 10 Gintaka moments

Arranged chronologically because it was too difficult to choose. Spoilers ahead.

1. First victory

After going day after day to the Shouka Sonjuku for an undetermined amount of time, Takasugi achieves his first victory against Gintoki. Understanding that he was weak, he defined him and Shouyou as his goal to reach. Thus, chasing Gintoki's back became an objective that he maintained throughout his life. But at this moment, Gintoki was really upset because Takasugi popped his cherry… his defeat cherry, that is (ch. 517).

2. The courtesan incident

After a fight between Gintoki and Takasugi, Sakamoto appears to say that the better friends they are, the more they fight. He also reveals that the reason for their latest conflict was that they both chose the same girl when they went to the red-light district, and she preferred Takasugi. This provoked an attack from Gintoki, but then Tatsuma added that the girl said he only drank and turned out to be very boring, which also provoked an attack from Takasugi, who was in the vicinity despite their previous fight (ch. 453).

3. Heaven

While fighting with the Kiheitai, Takasugi has a flashback of being wounded on the battlefield during the Joui War, and when he lost hope and looked to the heavens, he didn’t see a place to rest peacefully but instead saw the backs of his comrades fighting. He thinks of this while remembering Gintoki protecting him, which could be interpreted as Gintoki being like heaven for him in a way (ch. 639).

4. Give my regards

In spite of being estranged, they both say the phrase "give my regards to sensei for me" as a tribute to their master and a reminder of the legacy he left in their lives to those responsible for his death, showing them that Shouyou still lives. This also demonstrates how they are still united by the same emotional root while reflecting the duality of the paths they chose (chs. 397/398).

5. Pride

Being in Rakuyo and facing an imminent threat, Bansai believes that Gintoki is going to fight for the pride of the samurai, to which he responds that he is not interested in that, but his source of pride lies in both winning and losing against Takasugi many times, and that is the pride he is not willing to lose. In this way, Gintoki acknowledges that he still holds onto the respect and camaraderie they once shared (ch. 569).

6. Friggin' awful

When the Joui 4 were fighting, Gintoki is isolated from the rest and is ambushed by a huge machine that threatens him with a cannon. Before he can react, Takasugi comes to his aid, sabotaging the weapon in front of Gintoki's perplexed gaze. Then, both attack the mecha together as they tease each other, Takasugi asking how it feels to be saved by him who has just woken up from a coma, while Gintoki flips the question around, asking how it feels to have to be protected by him in the first place. To this, both respond that it's the worst, as an explosion occurs behind them. But they play it cool, because cool guys don't look at explosions (chs. 574-575).

7. Shouldn't interfere

Matako and Takechi have been tracking Takasugi and, after two years, finally found him. However, Matako hesitates about whether they should continue following him after seeing him fighting alongside Gintoki, feeling unsure of what to do, also recognizing that it was the first time she saw him acting silly and carefree. Similarly, the ship's captain comments that they both looked like ordinary no-good brats, which not only shows the camaraderie between them but also that they are happy being together (ch. 683).

8. Holding hands

While infiltrating the Terminal, Gintoki and Takasugi held hands twice. The first time was when the stairs they were climbing with Zura were destroyed, so Gintoki extended his hand, and Takasugi managed to grab it. The second time was when they were attacked while climbing the steel cables of an elevator. Here, Gintoki grabs Takasugi's hand to prevent him from falling and throws him towards a door. There was almost a third occasion where Takasugi was going to help Gintoki, but to no one's surprise, he was stabbed before he could do so (ch. 699).

9. Use me

Takasugi urges Gintoki to use his body as a shield, to which Gintoki seemingly agrees. They fight together, protecting each other and deceiving their enemies with strategies they can devise in an instant without speaking, demonstrating how well they know each other. Takasugi uses himself as bait to help Gintoki attack the terminal, but when he decides to sacrifice himself, Gintoki comes running to push him out of danger, a decision for which the enemy mocks him, saying he wasted his chance just because he couldn't bear to lose Takasugi (ch. 700).

10. Mutual support

Takasugi smiles while watching Gintoki reunite with the Yorozuya, something he urged him to do on multiple occasions since they reunited because if there is one thing he wants, it is for Gintoki to be happy. With the little strength he has left, he takes Gintoki's bokuto again and uses it to support himself, symbolizing how Gintoki helps him move forward. Similarly, in his final fight against Utsuro, Gintoki declares that Takasugi is in his soul while seeing his spirit protecting him. Thus, Gintoki holds his sword and defeats the enemy with Takasugi's aid. This is the second time they exchange swords in the series but, unlike the first, here it is more explicit that the other's soul is what helps them do what they have to do (chs. 701/703).

Part (1) (2) (3) (4)

[bossladytae]

Looking for Gintama gen fic?

Writers are often their own PR team, and the same goes for fanfic writers. I like writing gen fic, and so I thought I’d share a selection of Gintama gen fic written by yours truly. Click on each description for a link to the fic. Hope you find something you like!

Mitsuba cuts her own hair and resolves to begin anew.

Itou reflects on the dawn while journeying to Edo.

Hijikata grows obsessed with hunting down a criminal, who may or may not exist, and soon spirals deeper into darkness while haunted by his past.

Takasugi contemplates vengeance and other dark thoughts with a longtime companion.

Tsukuyo and Tae exchange information, assist one another in battle, and enjoy tea and cake and each other’s company.

In the forest, long before the group of young men are ever known as the Shinsengumi, Shimaru teaches a pouting Sougo how to skip a rock on the water.

In a timeline where almost everyone has perished in a great calamity, Kamui journeys through the world alone, trying to ignore the void within his soul while hunting down the enemies who killed his sister and father.

Moments in the life of Sasaki Tetsunosuke, as he finds his place in the Shinsengumi and at the side of Hijikata Toushirou.

Hijikata is unsettled by what he perceives to be a false peace. Tae is exhausted from picking up the pieces again and again. One night, they share in a drink and contemplate war and the future. (Mostly gen, as I explore both of their characters within the Two-Year Timeskip.)

The Shinsengumi navigate the effects of rapid aging during the Ryugujo arc.

Last, but certainly not least, Katsura stars in a series of misadventures: - publishing books and dealing with “mixed reviews" - orchestrating an elaborate plan to capture Matsudaira and Kondou (this story is told from the perspectives of 20 main Gintama characters) - getting stuck in a broom closet with Sacchan and Madao - tracking down a lost video game cartridge

[short-circuit-the-great]

Throwing canon out the window for this fic because these days I care less and less about canon compliance and more and more about testing really cool alternate scenarios

[wodimewoahtime]

I CANT BELIEVE I FORGOT THAT KATSURAS HAIR WAS CUT DURING THE BENIZAKURA ARC????

they really just said "does katsura have a wig on right now? maybe? hmmm"

AND NEVER BROUGHT IT UP AGAIN????

[windfighter]

My cat from hell

There was a tiny, black cat in Junpei’s hands. Grip firm, holding the cat with outstretched arms as to get it as far away as possible. Takuya blinked. Junpei did as well.

”Is… is Kouji here?”

”He was yesterday”, Takuya answered and stepped back inside.

Junpei followed him, cat still held at arm’s lenght. Didn’t even kick off his shoes.

”What’s with the cat?” Takuya asked.

Grabbed his wallet from a table and put it in his back pocket. Junpei huffed behind him.

”It’s a hellspawn is what it is.”

Takuya laughed. Junpei didn’t and the laughter died out just as quickly. Takuya opened the door to the study.

”Kouji?”

”In here.”

Ah. Takuya closed the door with a smile and went to the bathroom instead. Opened the door and leaned against the doorframe. Kouji was in the bathtub, arms resting on the side and his head on his arms.

”Want to join?” Kouji asked and smiled.

”Would love to”, Takuya stepped inside, leaned down and gave Kouji a kiss, ”but you have a visitor and I have errands to run.”

He dipped his fingers into the water. It was warm and Takuya frowned. Kouji would usually take a cold shower and not soak in the tub.

”You’ll still be here when I get back?” Takuya asked.

”Probably”, Kouji closed his eyes. ”I’ll hide in the study if you’re bringing someone.”

Junpei peeked inside and Kouji opened his eyes again, frowned when he noticed the cat. Takuya buried his fingers in Kouji’s hair, felt his head move as his eyes traced over Junpei.

”Gia is gonna be mad”, he laughed. ”Shoes off, Junpei.”

”Yeah, yeah”, Junpei didn’t move to take them off. ”I need your help.”

”Is it urgent?”

Kouji closed his eyes again and leaned back, let his arms sink down into the water. Takuya sat down on the edge of the tub, kept his eyes on Kouji. He could still see Junpei move in the corner of his eyes.

”Is it urgent?” Junpei repeated. ”Is it…”

He lifted the cat a bit higher, as to make a point. Takuya snorted.

”Take this hellspawn before I drown it in the tub with you.”

”You wouldn’t”, Kouji said.

Didn’t move. His eyes were a little too closed to be relaxed, but he wasn’t hunched over or holding his hand against one of his sore spots. He was in pain, Takuya realized, but not more than a five. He grabbed Kouji’s hand and squeezed it. He wouldn’t want Takuya’s help for anything less than an seven.

”I need to leave now”, Takuya said. ”I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

He stood up, dried his arm and gestured for Junpei to go back out. Junpei didn’t move until Takuya grabbed his arm and turned him around, dragged him out of the bathroom and closed the door.

”Give him ten or so minutes”, Takuya said as he let go. ”Then he’ll be ready to help you with… whatever this is.”

He gestured at the cat, who chose that exact moment to let out a stream of pee right on Junpei’s shoes. Junpei’s face got red, lips thin, and Takuya put a hand infront of his mouth to hold back a laugh. He patted Junpei’s arm.

”I’m sure the two of you can figure it out.”

With that he hurried to the door, grabbed his coat and left before Junpei could do anything. He shook his head as the door closed. He just hoped the cat wouldn’t be there when he returned.

[justpendule]

It seems that even when I'm writing Gintama fics, Code Geass is calling to me.

[sadahugsblahaj]

The climax of the Katsura Enrichment Month has arrived, that is Katsura's birthday. I wanted to talk about him anyway, since I'm more than halfway through a rewatch of Gintama and despite all the great characters and writing, I feel like Zura stands out to me the most. I would say he is a freak among freaks.

When I watched the first episode some time ago, I thought he was gonna be the serious fancypants character who always shows up to berate the mc for their behaviour.

Never would I have expected this guy to be possibly the most unhinged from them all. Guy sleeps with his eyes open, uses glasses with mustage to hide his identity, brings a kotatsu to a queue for a videogame console release, but the console he wants came out years ago, goes fishing in a public pool, shits on graves, gets hit by a car and gains the car's guardian spirit, goes on an interview as an anon but keeps revealing his name, has a baby gorilla with the police's chief, has a written exam for his terrorist group, feels left out out of said terrorist group despite being the leader because he isn't caught up to the latest shows so he goes to obtain a driver's license because he can't rent dvd without an id, fails and uses his wanted poster as an id, recruits the singular guy the terrorist group wants to overthrow, the leader of the country itself into the group and other members like the guy more than him and he can't prove in any way that he is indeed better than the guy.

One could really go on and on with him, this really just scraped the surface, whenever I hear his theme I grin immediately.

Happy birthday Zura!!

[lotus-tower]

Why do we talk like that about Gintama?

So this is something I've already talked about a lot here and there, but I thought I would condense my thoughts on the topic in its own post.

We've joked a lot about math zeitgeist, but why in the world are we furiously mathposting about Gintama? Why did I write 28 pages of actual essay for it? Where does kraniumet get all those images from? (I've always wondered this.) Essentially, what's driving us to analyze these themes and motifs over and over again... and why can they be analyzed over and over again?

When I first wrote My Orochi Stood Up, I made it clear that this was an original framework made for the same purpose as all analytical frameworks and models: to enable me to gain certain key insights about the series, to account for all of its innumerable bits and pieces, and to arrange their relationships to one another in a cohesive, legible way. In short, as I wrote in my essay, it provides me with symbolic technology.

In the same vein, when I wrote my spontaneous math post, I said that so much of math is about things that don’t exist and yet become real, not just because they help you articulate something but because they help you arrive at a solution. This is the purpose of things like imaginary numbers--or negative numbers for that matter.

I know that we should never live life in accordance with the fake hater in our heads that we imagine saying stupid things to us so that we can respond to them in smart, cool ways. I'm sure Zura lives like that though, and we all think he's charming, so maybe we should reconsider this idea. What I mean to get at is that I've never once tried to claim that Sorachi literally intended any of what I describe in my ouroboros framework. I don't think he sat down one day and planned to make his motifs compatible with western alchemy, I don't think he had the creation myth of the island of Japan in mind, and I don't actually think he read Barthes.

But what's undeniable is that there is something so bizarrely consistent, coherent, and plentiful about Gintama's thematic flourishes--even though in many, many ways, Gintama is filled with bad, and worse, mediocre, writing. What sets Gintama apart from other series isn't the inherent quality of its writing (which has stark ups and downs). If you'll forgive the confusing and somewhat contradictory wording, what makes Gintama distinct isn't a quantitative difference (as in, more goodness), but a qualitative difference. What does this qualitative difference boil down to?

First is structure. This part we've gone over a lot, so I'll try to keep it brief (or novel?). Gintama is a series with basically just one favoured literary technique, and it uses it again. and again. and again. and again. and again. Parallels upon parallels upon parallels--and there are only a few key thematic ideas that Sorachi is interested in exploring. You can describe it as consistency, or, if you want to be uncharitable, repetitiveness. But it is, frankly, absurd the amount of parallels--or rather, the degree of parallelism--this series contains. What's interesting about it is its effects on how we engage with the story.

By making it obvious that this is a conscious and explicit writing decision (through various means, mainly dialogue), any characters with suitable parallelism to a prototypical character A are all connected to one other--let's call these the A-sided characters. This holds even if they're all a bit different from each other. Imagine all these A-sided characters spread out in line, like hostages tied to each track of a train track or the rungs on a ladder. They lose similarity with each rung, like loss of clarity in a game of telephone--let's call this "reflection lossiness." Even though characters in the top rung and the bottom rung may not have much in common, they may both be within "lossiness range" (<- I just made this up) of a character in a middle rung, and therefore able to communicate indirectly with one another.

Moreover, because the prototypical character A has a foil in prototypical character B, all A-sided characters are also connected not only to any individual foils they may have, but potentially to all other B-sided characters. Since it's easier to identify characters' thematic affiliations through their interactions and dynamics with other characters, the consistency of the A-B foil formula, when combined with the fact that animanga foils are generally made very obvious, helps us perceive these diagonal relationships. Thus, the reader can squint at the interactions of almost the entirety of Gintama's enormous cast with valid suspicion, with less difficulty than in other works with more complex structures. The series' sheer length also ensures that there is an abundance of material to comb through, so much so in fact that this careful inspection, through rereading again and again, becomes necessary.

For instance, the interactions between any given pair of characters may not seem directly relevant to our protagonist at first glance, but once you know the magic A | B schema, you may notice that that pair's interactions resonate with that of a different pair, one involving an A-sided character with less reflection lossiness from the top and who therefore reflects much more of what happens to them onto Gintoki. In this way, the original pair, who are probably just a couple of minor side characters who appear once in a weird arc and then never show up again, can make you go, "hey wait a minute. what if?"

What if?

Let's look at a concrete example. Housen and Utsuro don't seem to have much to do with each other at first glance. However, because we know that he parallels Kamui, and that Kamui | Kagura parallel Takasugi | Gintoki, who in turn can be mapped onto Utsuro | Shouyou, we can arrive at a Housen-Utsuro connection that wasn't previously obvious. What is the utility of this connection? For one, it sharpens our ability to articulate how the hole-sided flee from the things they fear and yearn for by adding Housen's infamous avoidance of the sun into the analysis. It also provides new ground for exploring potential ideas comparing, say, Kamui choosing to leave with the Harusame and walk in Housen's footsteps, with Oboro's resigned embrace of the Naraku and Utsuro. Additionally, since Housen was defeated in Hinowa's lap, this also helps us draw a Hinowa -> Kagura connection, which helps us arrive at a Hinowa-Shouyou connection, which helps to reify that Shouyou is a milf.

By inserting one or two blatant instances of foreshadowing and parallelism early on in the series, instances that are impossible to pass off as coincidence, Gintama primes the reader to suspect that similar nuggets might be hiding anywhere, to check every garbage can we encounter from there on out like in the Pokemon games.

Whoops. In attempting to explain the math zeitgeist I succumbed to using math in my explanation. It's irresistible.

But that's structure. Let's move on now to something arguably even more important: motifs.

It's undeniable that for a shounen series that's half gag-manga, Gintama has a strange amount of analyzable motifs, and a clear loyalty to them. Regardless of how extravagantly people on tumblr dot com may want to overanalyze their favourite Shounen Jump series, their efforts are usually restrained to theme and characterization. Their ravings do not usually resemble the ravings of the Gintama Salon. If you've read this far, I don't think I need to explain this to you, or what Gintama's most prominent motifs are. But why is Gintama so motif-ful? The sword's importance is obvious, expected even, but what differentiates Gintama from, say, Bleach, where the characters' swords also literally represent their souls in a way?

In the end the answer is what I already discussed in My Orochi Stood Up, the foundation of my entire framework, in fact its very title: the dick joke.

Sorachi's immature sense of humour is the glue holding the entire thematic and narrative structure of Gintama together. Why do we search obsessively for meaning in the flotsam of Gintama's less narratively charged moments? Because, quite frankly, many things are phallic. The sword is no longer simply a sword--by being imbued with the spirit of the dick joke, it becomes not only valid but textual to associate it with the head of the nation (shadow juice squirt), the motif of the dragon (thank you Elizabeth), and castration. What I mean is not whether the sword can be read as a dick--obviously, phallic logic has been prominent through all of human history--but the way in which Gintama's sexual humour gives us--and itself--an impetus to equate motifs in the first place.

Comparing very serious things to dicks is funny--the more abrupt, the more shocking, the more mood whiplash, the funnier is. Therefore, for Gintama's toilet humour to be as effective as possible, tone dissonance is ideal, pushing it towards the intermingling of comedy and tragedy that we know it so well for today. This in turn validates and reinforces the meaning-making role that these phallic jokes play in the story as a hole. It is not only that we cannot separate the dick jokes from the serious delivery of the plot, but that in many arcs important information is given to us through ridiculous gag devices (ball gags?).

The logic of basic sex jokes is extremely simple, intuitive, and easy to understand. The prominence of the pole necessarily implies the presence of the hole. I've talked about that enough in my essays, so I won't go into detail here, but the reason that I wrote my essays in the first place is because of how easy it is to map a procreative framework onto a series filled from beginning to end with phallic gags. As much as I may joke about it, the underlying logic of "the pole and the hole" is powerful and compelling, providing connective tissue to seemingly disparate motifs with ease. When combined with the "sorting" power of the A | B structure, the ability to associate any particular character with any particular motif easily gives us the ability to analyze how a given set of characters interacts with a motif; equally, where the motif sits in Gintama's playing ground of phallicism can inform a given character's dynamic with others.

I've already written at length about the role that wordplay plays in this as well. To save on time, I'll just quote from My Orochi Stood Up:

Gintama’s insistence on wordplay enables interesting meaning to be derived from these dirty jokes and their interaction with other motifs in the story. After all, the name of the series itself elevates the spirit of the balls joke, even if unintentionally, to the same level as the other metaphor in the title: “silver."

But perhaps the singularly most important example is the -tama in Gintama, with its plethora of potential meanings, each of them just silly and dirty enough that you have to take it seriously. Beyond the obvious joke on kintama (balls) and the “silver soul” meaning, we’ve seen that tama is also easily conflated with atama (head), and even with tamago (egg). This is clearly demonstrated with the series’ fixation on beheading leading to the salvation of the soul, and the bodyswap arc hinging on the pun between soul and egg.

In short, it is the comedic aspect of Gintama that fuels the series' own willingness to conflate and play with its motifs, and that validates--provokes--our mad efforts as readers to draw unlikely connections and dig through dirt. Though it may seem more ridiculous on the surface to be taking such a magnifying glass to such a profoundly silly series, it is in fact more justified for Gintama than it would likely be for a more serious series, one where the paths between motifs are not pre-paved, let alone lubricated with shadow squirt juice.

I was recently introduced to a theory of comedy where comedy was posited as an interplay between excess and lack. How this maps on to Gintama is obvious; but one thing that comes to mind now is how easy it would be to characterize our scholarly efforts in examining Gintama, a series one could humorously characterize as "lacking", as a kind of excess. Which is to say, I think Gintama has pulled its penultimate trick on us (because it's still coming out with more stuff for the anniversary. I believe it.) by making us part of its comedy.

[ran-orimoto]

[ Looooooooong time ago, in March ,I reckon, I posted a The Rescuers Junzumi AU sketchdump I’m very affectionate to and it wasn’t really something that unpredictable I would eventually write something for it soon. In truth, I initially wrote this very small oneshot just for myself in my free time (I stupidly feel cringe while writing about AUs and that’s a very stupid part of me I’m trying defeating just like the fankids one), but then a friend convinced me I could share it with the world as a prompt for Flufftober. I mean, why not, I told myself. Am I commiting some crime throwing stories I put 0 efforts in into the net🤣🤣🤣? Mind you, I did polish this ,tho. It used to be terrible ahahah. ]

{ Intermezzo you wouldn’t expect } aka a short one-shot for Fluffoctober about a The Rescuers AU -> •Stormy night

XXX

“Signorina Izumi, keine Sorge! No need to worry! I’m an expert in reading maps and orientating myself even in the thickest mist, ah!” The stocky man opened a piece of wrinkled and yellowish paper. His brown eyes, darkened by the blackness of a rainy night, were apparently scanning the drawings before them as he frantically searched for something he would never find. Of course.

Actually, Izumi had noticed it from the start: how he hadn’t paid a crumb of attention to what he was doing, attracted and distracted by who knew what else he might think it was more interesting than their invaluable mission. For example, if he had been focused on the map he was holding for real, he would have noticed it was upside down from the unnatural shape the venetian calle and the lagoon had, making it seem a whole sea was going to overflow and swallow the entire city.

Due to her usual courtesy and politeness, she had been wondering how she should tell him about that, if she should at that point since, after all, she could rely on herself and let him play those detective games in his silly world.

Who had ever needed a companion in a first place? She had been travelling around the world for ages knowing she could only trust her own strength, her determination no one else, -modestly speaking-, owned with such an intensity, her spirit. The only mate she had ever needed was the voice of the wind, as kind and reassuring as always, immutable, no matter where she was sent to.

Did those people from up there really believe she couldn’t deal with that situation on her own, she couldn’t take care of herself, she needed someone by her side, a man, nonetheless. From her perspective, from what she had been able to grasp so far, he was the one clearly needing help the most between them, not even being able to speak italian properly and messing it with japanese and german words.

And yet, she had chosen him when they had allowed her to do that, -at least!-. She had, though she had just assisted to a scene in which he was about to get electrocuted after he had voluntereed for the job. She didn’t even know who he truly was, now that she thought about that…Not that she had ever felt that need, either: to socialize with others from the society.

It was enough to be aware they all were adults wanting to help unlucky kids in the best way they could, through money or other types of support, -even, yes, those kinds consisting in sticking your nose in issues that were much bigger than you actually are-. What their life was like out there, who they actually were had never been important. Nobody cared, -and should know, in her opinion-, about the fact she was a flight attendant who would often find herself on modelling magazines or cat walks. And ,in return, she would survive in the obscurity, not ever finding out who he was, where he came from, how old he was, if he was married or not, - without doubts, the latter option held the predictable truth in itself-.

She had always been la Signorina Orimoto, but he had been quick at cutting to the chase and calling her la Signorina Izumi, showing no decency but not surprising her with that in the least.

And he was…Junpei-San…? He had introduced himself like that and she had also heard others addressing him in that way or with a simple Junpei. Against all the odds, he seemed to be known by many members and some seemed to appreciate him a ton, despite the clumsiness he had never managed to hide.

”Junpei-San,” A gloved hand on her chest, she finally interrupted his mumbling, which was the reason why she had eventually decided she couldn’t just let him be like that. The incoherent noises coming from his mouth were so annoying they were interfering with her own stream of consciousness. “Junpei-San!”

”Yes, Signorina Izumi!” Like a soldier, he abruptly straightened his back, but managed to strike a clumsy yet sweet smile at the same time. Slightly puzzled, she blinked for an instant, taking a step backwards without wanting to.

”The map is upside down,” She said, as dryly as you would expect from such an expert at keeping her temper under control. That was one of her good qualities she exploited to promptly make that sudden emotion making her heart beat at a weird pace, even if, again, for just a second, slip in the background of the most trivial of her thoughts,ready to be forgotten and, consequently, soon fade.

In response to her comment, Junpei didn’t immediately react. He stood still, lowered his gaze to the panorama of streets and squeezed his orbs to find that detail, that very little detail, -of course, she is attempting to be sarcastic, santo cielo!-, he had been missing. And then…

“Ja, du hast Recht. Ehm, you’re right, Signorina Izumi, it’s…Upside down.”

”Yeah. It is.” Feeling the time they had at disposal slithering away from her grip, she struggled not to add a pinch of rudeness to her tone, so rare when it came to her, a blonde woman in her fourties enwrapped in a long purple dufflecoat; the symbol of elegance and refinement; a complete oxymoron next to the man in a baggy raincoat.

But Junpei-San‘s fashion tastes were not the main problem concerning him.

”Then…Let’s fix it,” He had begun stuttering and shaking, hiccuping too, but not because they had been wandering in the chilly rain for a while. Her remark had provoked a row of side effects on his body that might have been funny to observe, -she admitted it-, could have made her even giggle in amusement, if she hadn’t been counting each second flying away from them just like that kid, that poor kid.

They couldn’t allow themselves to indulge in more foolery. No.

Her eyebrows twitched and she pulled the paper away from him, accidentally dropping the umbrella he had asked her to hold in his stead go, -it had incredibly dawned on him he couldn’t read his map, if he continued on keeping the umbrella above her head like a true knight would, and per Dio!-.

The umbrella fell on the slippery ground and let heavy drops pour their cascade on their hoods all at once, on the locks of their hair escaping from their shelters. Her legs shaking due to crawling waves of cold, her fists clenching more and more in growing irritation, Izumi couldn’t help gasping: that was it! That was the end! That was the straw breaking the camel‘s back: he was blatantly influencing her with his manners! She would absolutely have to call the SOS society and come up with a valid justification to explain her decision to give up.

”Signorina Izumi…”

“I…I…I just…”

Her exasperated yell cut through the curtain of humidity and ,maybe, -she sensed without being able to explain-, a veil made of something else as well.

She didn’t look at Junpei, whether he had been startled or had grown disgusted by that display of utter embarassment. Indeed, she didn’t even want to. May he believe she had gone nuts and wasn’t the admirable Signorina Izumi he had been staring at with dreamy eyes for the whole day: she wouldn’t be touched by a change of heart happening inside him at all. If he left her in the freezing atmosphere of the incoming night, it wouldn’t make any difference.

But maybe she had always known he wouldn’t, as it suddenly dawned on her the one who would have run away from him, the person who had found himself in front of that side of hers, would have been her herself in other circumstances.

Instead, she had remained there and had silently, unconsciously waited. She waited for that sweaty yet warm hand to defeat the low temperatures of both outside and inside, at a first and single touch of her shoulder. It sent all those nagging shivers and tremors away with who knew what kind of magical trick, and, most of all, succeeded in reminding her Izumi Orimoto, la Signorina Orimoto never threw in the towel, never let stress dominate her clear logic, no matter how hard it was to find a lead, to operate as quickly as possible to rescue an innocent soul.

”Here,” There was another kind of rain that was falling that night. Quieter, more reserved, shyer, it let itself be seen and felt only by Junpei‘s hesitant thumb. She couldn’t help sighing in relief, leaning her cheeks towards that pleasant sensation. “Let’s go home. We will be luckier tomorrow when the Sun comes out again and…The lightnings go away. They are approaching…And very fast.”

”Home?” She echoed, covering his gulps with her suspended reticence.

”Yes,” As if not wanting to let her be carried by the mistral, he grabbed her hand before bending to pick the umbrella up. “I will prepare a good hot chocolate for you. To be honest, I can’t read maps that well, but I‘m not lying I’m good at preparing those. Someday I want to bring a whole tray for the society ah ah.”

…

Chi mi salverà ?

Who will rescue me?

…

I will, no, we will. Wait for us, endure, wherever you are. Give me a little time to…To…

…

Through storms, rain and black nights, never fail to do what’s right.

But ,why not, let yourself sip a good mug of hot chocolate while looking at that mess from the window, as well.

[suchine-toki]

Thoughts about Katsura

Katsura is an amazing character that could’ve been even more amazing. He was always a chaotic presence in the daily life of the series, not for nothing his blood type is AB (according to him). But he has other facets. One aspect to highlight is the dichotomy of his character. He’s serious in nature but is so eccentric that he ends up being one of the funniest characters in Gintama. He’s very smart and a complete idiot at the same time. He can be extreme and measured. He’s a revolutionary.

I remember thinking that it was selfish of him to want to force Gintoki back into the Jouishishi. And he in a way he is. But then I realized that he’s probably just lonely. He lost his parental figures several times. His biological parents, his adoptive parents, his grandmother, his sensei…

That’s another matter. The relationship between Zura and Shouyou is usually not considered, other than Zura (apparently) imitating his appearance. I think this is one of the two most important aspects of his character that should’ve been explored more. At the end of the series, they’d a brief encounter, although it wasn't even in person, in which Shouyou called him his prodigy student. While it's an important acknowledgment, it's striking that this type of bond hasn't been shown before and that Shouyou never calls him by his name.

The series puts much more emphasis on Gintoki and Takasugi's feelings towards his sensei. In fact, the main reason they were fighting the war was to save Shouyou. However, while it's acknowledged that Zura was there for that reason as well, it wasn't the only one. He was more idealistic, and his goal was beyond rescue. He seeks political change in his country. Although the historical component of the series was never very developed, it presented enough elements to create a comprehensible story for the characters.

It’s here that I must mention another important aspect of his character that should’ve been explored further: his political career. In the time skip Zura is shown as prime minister. However, this gets involved with Utsuro's plot, missing the character’s initial goal. Certainly, one could argue that he wasn’t seeking a political career and that it’s okay to step aside once the changes have been set in motion. But there’re a couple of things to consider.

Although Zura starts out as an extremist, part of his development is that he realizes that taking a violent path can hurt people he cares about, like Ikumatsu. This opens the way for moderation, and pursuing change through institutionalized political avenues makes sense for his character. The other point has to do with the fact that it’s absurd to step aside when social changes have not yet taken hold because because they’ll most likely be reversed.

This is why I feel that Katsura's character is great, but it could’ve been better if his bond with Shouyou had been explored more and if at the end of the series he had been allowed to grow. To become a masked vigilante on the run is to end pretty much the same way he started, without much sense.

[bloodsworn-marshal]

Writing Prompt: Stamp Word Count: 930 (Bandit AU) ---> masterlist

All throughout this young man’s life… all had gone according to plan.

Sure, his humble beginnings were not so great. By no fault of his own.

Sure, he’d ended up behind gaol bars once or twice… but twas always with the expectation that one would easily escape within a day or two’s worth. Sometimes less.

Those times where he happened to be thwarted by authorities? They were rough gambles anyways with naught to be lost should those attempts fail.

Ultimately, Bandit Leader Pipin Tarupin never suffered a setback worth losing sleep over. Not until… a series of unfortunate events. Piling on top of each other, one after the other. As if karma had finally come knocking after all these years of delinquency and having his way.

It came in the form of a risky endeavor. One where Pipin went way over the line in his plan of distraction and kidnapping. His bandits would handle the brunt of it all in the background while he would put on a grand display to distract the likes of all Immortal Flames during Ul’dah’s Little Ladies Day event. Security was lax for but a moment and before anyone realized… that Sultana herself had slipped into his hands. Taken for a ride around the city as his hostage as his greatest taunt yet.

The move succeeded of course. Pipin caught the attention of all eyes for a split moment. Dancing atop rooftops with Her Grace until the flame general came barreling after him and causing an ungodly ruckus. He made a mockery of the Flames that day and escaped easily without a slip in his steps. Of course the Sultana had been rescued… but she was never the true aim to begin with.

…Thus were the beginning of his headaches.

For what did his bandits do but kidnap the wrong person and brought them back to their hideout no less?

Mistake number one was trusting in others to do the dirty work right. Mistake number two was underestimating the kidnapped lass and receiving a proper kick between the groins when he intimidated her on meeting.

It didn’t stop there either. The worst was yet to come. Just when things were looking up in fact.

After humiliating the Flame General for many years and the worst mockery of all in his latest endeavor, the monetarists had decidedly tried to put the man down in the form of an ‘accident’. Someone needed taking all the blame for Pipin’s actions and it was high time the man finally paid for his failures. Stabbed in the back and left for the desert vultures as his lifeblood bled out.

He would survive however. Rescued by moogles in exchange for an unknown debt he had yet to know of in truth. His life given a second chance… as Pipin offered a hand to welcome him into his fold. To leave all and everything behind as he started anew. And mayhap forge a strange bond as a way of Pipin making amends for causing the man so much trouble.

They shook on it. He had been the first to offer his hand even.

That was mistake number three.

“Waaaa!!!! Oh no! I forgot!!” One of the moogles present cried out, wiggling in dismay and floating up into the air some. “The warning about the mark!!”

“…It spreads, kupo.” Answered another, gesturing at the duo’s hands. “The debt owed as well.”

All hell broke loose.

Upon the moogle’s words, Pipin’s grip stiffened. And with a sudden sense of uneasiness, he slowly raised up the palm of the hand that just shook with the former general’s hand. What was once clear flesh now marked black with a paw print of sorts. Stamped and marked in what may as well have been permanent, binding ink.

Silence hung in the air… and before the man could so much as react, the bandit leader was upon the other. Hands grasping each of his shoulders and shaking repeatedly.  “Did you curse me!? Eh!? Is that what all this is about!?”

In Pipin’s mind, he had been fooled. By General Zura, by the moogles, by everyone in an instant. Had for a last laugh at his expense after a rough few days.

“Agh--!!! No! What? No!!! You offered to shake MY hand, remember?! I didn't know this was going to happen! I don't even know what that debt is!!!"

“What do you mean you don’t know!?”

…Twas ignorance then. Plain and simple. And Pipin knew then exactly where to redirect his building anger as he was losing his absolute mind.

“Dinner.” He hissed, hands having snaked away and found themselves wrapped precariously around the moogle at fault. Grasping firmly and tugging at its fur. “Either you get your facts straight or you’re tonight’s supper.”

Zura had joined Pipin at his side, arms crossed and looming over the moogle just as leerily. At this rare juncture of time, they were both of same mind. “And I’m not about to stop him. Better start talking, kupo.”

The moogle trembled and shrieked a deft, “DON’T EAT ME!!!!!”

Humiliation on top of humiliation. For now the bandit leader had been dragged into an oath and a debt he knew not how to pay because the blasted creature couldn’t remember for the life of itself how to do so. Thus would the mark remain on his hand, threatening to spread to any other unsuspecting person he might accidentally touch.

And with plenty more humiliations to endure in the future. The price he had to pay for that day… was it truly worth it?

[short-circuit-the-great]

The birthday party was three books ago of course I forgot which character it was for

[katsusks]

I feel like it might be because unlike Gintoki-- Takasugi was willing to destroy everything to honor (or well avenge) Shoyo; Which Oboro couldn't do due to being captured, and letting his jealousy get in the way when he did see Shoyo again years later. maybe in a way Oboro could've saw more of a "what if our places were swapped?" version of himself in Takasugi over Gintoki, since they took antagonist roles over sensei.

or maybe it's thanks to how much direct pain Oboro gave to Gintoki that made him refuse to pull a "we're both awful" with him, so Takasugi had to pick up the pieces and connect Oboro himself to make it fair w/ their roles in mind.

Now if this was Katsura trying to connect Oboro however, I think it'd be possible. but a large part of me feels like his attempts would help Takasugi with doing it if anything

It's a little ironic that as much as Gintoki frequently pulls the "we're both alike, we're both cowardly/we're both scum/we're both trash/we both failed" thing both with friends who are down, villainous antagonists, and people in between... I don't think he ever does this with Oboro. It took Takasugi to connect to Oboro, Gintoki couldn't do it.

[windfighter]

Promises for tomorrow

Was thinking about what kind of new years resolutions the Frontier-crew would make but came to no conclusion at all. So instead I wrote this thing which takes place in 2013, when Izumi, Takuya and Junpei have moved to Italy and Kouichi and Kouji are visiting for the holidays :3 (Tomoki doesn't get to visit because I'm lazy)

(Time is a social construct and as a fanwriter I can bend it to my will)

------

New year was only hours away. Takuya, Kouji, Junpei, Izumi and Kouichi were gathered for a party, Takuya foregoing his usual shenanigans out on the town to celebrate with his partner and his friends. A few too many drinks had already been had, but the food was good and the drinks expensive and for one night everything was as it should be.

”Anyone doing new year’s resolutions?” Takuya asked.

Poured himself another drink. Kouji held his glass harder, swirled the whiskey around. Junpei grinned.

”I’m going to sing at La Scala”, he said. ”I haven’t figured out how yet, but I’m going to do it!”

”I would like to go BASE jumping at Angel Falls, but it’s a whole process”, Izumi said. ”I’ve applied to a culinary school though, so my new year’s resolution is going to be focus on my studies.”

”Never figured you for a cook”, Takuya laughed.

”Because you never have time to come over for dinner”, Izumi answered with a laugh and gave him a shove. ”Stop by tomorrow, bring Kouji. I’ll make you the best food you’ve ever tried!”

Kouji leaned against the armrest of the couch. Takuya glanced at him, unsure what he was thinking about. His eyes were locked on something at the wall.

”I also need to step it up with the studies”, Kouichi said, ”but as new year’s resolution I’m just going to eat as many of Izumi’s meals as I can.”

”You’d be able to eat more if you moved over here already", Izumi said.

Wrapped an arm around Kouichi’s shoulders and kissed his cheek. Takuya put his own arm over Kouji’s shoulders to do the same, but Kouji was stiff and he didn’t.

”How about you?” Junpei asked. ”What does the famous Takuya plan for the new year?”

”Obviously I’m going to win the world cup”, Takuya grinned. ”Also, try lobsters.”

”Turning into a real rich boy”, Izumi said.

Shook her head, but laughed. Takuya smiled as well, took a sip from his drink. Squeezed Kouji’s shoulder.

”How about you? New year’s resolutions?”

Kouji blinked. Looked at Takuya and then the whiskey.

”Might go to Mali. They’ve been fighting for their independence for a year, maybe I could help.”

Everyone looked at him. The carefree feel of the room disappeared.

”What?” Takuya asked.

Kouji blinked again.

”What what?”

”New year’s resolutions are supposed to be fun”, Takuya said.

”Oh… OH! I thought you said revolutions. Yeah, sorry, my bad.”

Takuya laughed, pulled Kouji closer and kissed his temple.

”I love you. You’re an idiot and I love you.”

”Takuya is morosexual”, Izumi giggled.

”Takuya is everysexual”, Junpei corrected.

Takuya didn’t protest, just nudged Kouji again.

”Alright then. Any actual resolutions?”

”I don’t like making plans”, Kouji said. ”They never work out. I guess I could promise to take Izumi to the Angel Falls.”

”I’d love that”, Izumi said. ”But you don’t need to go out of your way for me.”

”It’d be fun to see anyway”, Kouji said. ”Lots of things I could take pictures of over there. Maybe I’ll even jump with you.”

”The two of you are insane”, Junpei laughed. ”As long as I don’t have to jump.”

The carefree feeling filled the room again and Takuya leaned against the back of the couch, relaxed. He just needed to find away to keep Kouji from joining any revolutions.

[shieldkeeper]

Writing Prompt: Taken Word Count: 975 (Frostbite AU) - (Continuation from Portentous!) ---> masterlist

“We have need of you…”

As clawed hands nearly grasped around Holou’s sleeping form, his body suddenly jumped as if on pure instinct. A maddening tumble towards the back of the cavern of which he’d chosen his shelter for the night, breathing deep and heavily labored breaths as he grasped his bearings. Daggers in either hand and his trembling eyes wide.

He had sensed it. Even in deepest slumber he realized the danger he was in. The aura of murderous intent that had been hovering over his vulnerable form, now made manifest before him in a bid to ambush.

A man bathed in shadow and darkness. A cloak made of blackest night with a mask that hid one’s truest features. Every ounce of this thing’s being made Holou shiver. He had been cornered. Trapped like prey before a beast ready to have its meal. And he couldn’t even see it well in the darkness of the cave!

“Be careful on your way headed home.” The echo of his elder brother Garen’s voice from earlier that morn rang clear as day in his head. “Truly. Be careful. Come what may, I’m counting on you to make it home safely.”

“Do not falter in this task that I give you.”

Gods damn his brother’s cryptic messages. He had known what awaited Holou! And in typical oracle fashion, warned him in a way that gave no warning of what truly awaited around the corner. Only enough to make him wary to sleep soundly on this night.

And good thing he had. But the situation he had found himself in was not the most fortuitous either.

What he didn’t know… was that this man had been the very same one who had faced Garen and Zura earlier in the day.

“Dear boy,” The haunting voice of the shadowed man hovered ever closer. With a voice as sinister as a snake. “Do not make this difficult on me. Obey me and come with willingly, or I’ll have to resort to more… painful methods.”

“To hells with ye—Like I’d follow yer nasty mug without a wit o’ what you want from me!” Holou spat at them, daggers at the ready.

“As it goes with you Vikings. Very well.”

Holou acted first. He’d skidded some sort of material against the wall of the cave, causing a spark that kindled smallest flame in his hands. A match. One that he chucked at the shadow which just as swiftly caught flame.

It did nothing to falter the shadowed being from attacking. But it gave Holou all the advantage in being able to see his surroundings.

Holou fought like a bat out of hell. Cutting and digging into this mysterious form that never seemed to take much damage from his strikes—but was dangerously closing in with strange shadow like abilities. Lingering in the air and surrounding them, slowly but surely… Struggle as much as he could to take the guy down and make for his escape, the shadows dogged his every step.

They wrapped around his ankles and forced him prone. Other dark magicks struck at his body—one impaling after the other. Nothing lethal or anywhere vital, but enough to burn his body like mad as he screamed from each strike.

“Twas your own fault, I’m afraid. Your struggle wasn’t necessary. I’d say you put up a good fight… but your flimsy knives never stood a chance against me.”

“Curse you…” Holou swore as his vision began to blur. The feeling of his body being picked up against his will. No good. His consciousness was fading.

Garen… Ma and Da… all his little siblings… the village… their faces flashed in his thoughts as he feared the worse—that he’d never see them again after this.

Nor would Veidanfisk ever receive news of the prophecy’s aftermath and their success. As neither son returned home…

…

…

Holou still yet lived. But in what state?

Much of the time that passed was a blur. In and out of consciousness. Feelings of immense pain and electrifying lightning in his veins before slumbering once more. Wounded but revived. An overbearing presence trying to force it’s ways through his inner walls. Again and again. Over and over. Something that dared to take control while he was at his weakest.

When finally he did regain proper awareness with the world around him, he found himself confined. Alone and secluded in a back room of some unknown place. Where he could just barely make out conversations going on in a room just beyond a door.

“This age has come to a standstill for far too long.” A familiar voice. The one that struck him down. “And I would usher in a new one. No more stalling.”

A softer murmur joined in on the conversation. A gentle voice so quiet Holou could barely make it out. Were they making excuses? Reasonings? They were so hard to hear, but the darker voice was clear as day.

“I’ve already witnessed two of your making, so I have no doubt you can invest in another. This one is one of their kind and thus has potential. Make it happen.”

And then… silence.

Unbearable silence as Holou shifted in his constraints. Until the door beyond his confinement opened to reveal the voice he had such difficulty making out. An unknown viera man… who looked much like a corpse walking. A life that looked drained of all joy and enthusiasm, bound to whatever work had forced him into this position. His physique telling him more than words could convey.

“I see that you are finally coherent.” His lips flattened… almost displeased. For what reason, Holou could not discern. “Allow me to introduce myself then… I am what your people call the Alchemist. And I fear I shall be hosting you here for some time yet.”