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foxjevilwild · 3 years

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Thought on the game some more and I'm building a bit of a theory:

-Kris, when they rip their SOUL out, is not being controlled by anyone else. That's Kris, the actual character, taking those actions and creating the DARK fountains.

-They're trying to find a way to remove the SOUL, and free themself from our control.

-They freak out when Spamton[Neo] dies on Pacifist, because they realize that beings in this world die when their STRINGS are cut and they're trying to do the same to the SOUL that's controlling them. Kris wants to be free of it, but if they completely untether - they'll end up a dead husk like Spamton. (this is one of the few times their emotion is expressed and we get no choice over their reaction, this is real Kris screaming out)

-This world has crashed and looped multiple times because of what is interfering in it so Kris is unafraid of the Roaring, and prepared for the SOUL (the cage is already there in chapter 1)

-The same being responsible for the DARK is responsible for implanting the Player SOUL in Kris, and has turned Kris's world into a sort of beacon to draw in SOULs (This is probably Gaster)

-I think everything in the game is some form of acronym - DARK is probably something like "Data-Array Restructuring Kernel" and SOUL is something like "System Operator Unicode Language"

I think the world of Deltarune (and Undertale, really) is a world that knows it is a Game, that it exists as Code in some form, and that it is a constructed reality. I think Gaster (and their followers) are able to see behind the curtain and make this realization, and Gaster has dedicated his existence into first escaping his own STRINGS or script, hiding in the unused files, and then in recoding the world into the image he wants.

I think when Players arrive and start making choices in the original program, it disrupts the process he is using, and so he has created the world of Deltarune by rearranging Undertale and creating a sort of 'trap' for us, the Player, by rigging the SOUL's intended vessel.

I think the Vessel we created in Survey_Program was the original game's 'main character' for the player to control, and Gaster hijacked the process to force the SOUL into Kris.

I think it's called Survey_Program because Gaster was surveying for a suitable Player again, someone to enter their world of code and power the engine he's building there. If the player is too aware, the program crashes - because they are unsuitable for the purpose. If we're able to look too deep into the code, or know who Gaster is - it's dangerous for him and his continued existence. He doesn't care if you name it after Sans or another character (it's amusing to him) - but if you name it after him...he panics and aborts.

Basically I think Real Kris is *also* throwing a wrench in the plans of the unseen villain - they're trying to break free of this forced control and go back to a normal life. To some extent Gaster has anticipated this (he picked Kris for a reason, shaped them in the bunker) - but I think depending on the Player it can go one of a few ways:

1) Our choices align with the best interests of Real Kris, and there is formed a bond between the SOUL and Kris that allows the world to resolve in a healing way, possibly even letting go of our control over them (Similar to the True Pacifist Ending in UT)

2) The neutral ending - where we stop the Roaring but Real Kris steps in to make it happen by ripping their own SOUL out and cutting the strings ( They choose Death or Reset instead of slavery), because we are still controlling them (the neutral ending)

3) The Proceeding, where we force Kris over and over to do what we want them to do. Where we use our knowledge of the game, of the code, to break them and everyone around them to have our fun. Where our voice as the 'Player' gets to take dominance over what the game is supposed to be. (This will be like the Genocide Run)

Toby is making a commentary with each of these choices - mainly about what we expect of a sequel, how we as a fandom can both adore and reinterpret characters, and about the limitations of a sequel as opposed to an original work.

The world is a meta-text on Storytelling *and* Game Creation - it is a story told through a Game because it can only be told through a game - or it wouldn't have any of the thematic punch that it does.

The Dark is reinterpretation, rearrangement - pieces taken from their original setting and reshaped or re-contextualized into something new - still recognizable, but new. This is how a sequel is created, but it's also how we as Players interacted with the original creation. (How many Undertale AU's are there again? Hundreds?)

Anagrams are a major theme - everything in this world is a mish-mash of constituent parts. Two things combined into a new thing. Everything is repurposed and reshaped from an Original. Gaster can manipulate the code, but he can't actually write an original world...not yet. He has to work with the parts that exist. -- The same is true when creating a sequel, or continuing a story. This is both textual, and meta-textual on Toby's part. The literal act of creating a sequel to Undertale, and the game's metaphorical 'Undertale 2' rearrangement, are this amazing little interplay going on between the Audience and Author and Creation.

Our SOUL or our control over the world is how we interact with that creation - there is a sort of undercurrent of power-struggle. The artist wants to tell a story, the characters want to be true to themselves and who they are, the world wants to resolve in a natural way - but in order for us to have choices, the world has to adapt to us, change according to our whims as players of the game.

Sometimes what we want aligns with what the characters want - sometimes what we want is better for them than what they'd choose for themselves - but ultimately we are tyrannical. These little monsters are trapped in a looping prison, chained to our whims by lines of Code they can't see - living in loops bound to our Determination and our absolute mastery over them.

We get to play the game when we want, we get to choose what they do, who they love --- we get to choose how they die. We get to choose if they kill... and we get to do it again and again, changing the outcomes as we please. For Fun.

This process has been hijacked, and our usual choices that would have been coded in are ineffectual. Our 'choices' don't matter, but we still force them on the game. Some characters can ignore us, others don't or can't - sometimes we choose what the character was going to do anyway. Someone cut the string, and we have no control here...

But there are other ways...other routes...to bring our voice back into power over the game. Ways we can break the script, the same as the one who rearranged it.

I think the narrative within Deltarune is that someone is fighting back against us, against that Player and against that control. That someone is Real Kris.

Gaster created the engine beneath the world, the DARK that allows it to rearrange - and the world has been looping through, the Door-Portals into the DARK created and recreated and Player after Player has passed through with Roaring after Roaring fueling the engine he's buried somewhere beneath, hidden in the code.

Most of the denizens aware of this truth go mad, or Gaster uses them and they go mad, or they follow him in a cult like state. Gaster is the only hope for their freedom - the only one able to manipulate the CODE besides the player. Gaster is ultimately selfish, trying to break himself free of the Code - but to these beings he is the only chance at any sort of self-Determination.

Kris is intended to be a puppet, just like Spamton, just like Jevil was going to be (and failed, quarantined). Kris is the end result of Gaster's research - a false vessel for the SOUL that can be scripted along the world's pathing, a character with a pre-existing story to keep the SOUL trapped within a specified loop.

Gaster wants the Roaring, wants the world to loop. Wants us to play the game he's re-scripted for us to power whatever he's using to break things and escape his 'prison of universes' within the Games' code.

We'll have our fun, find our ending - and maybe even get the happy one. Ultimately though, we're not the only ones playing this game...we're not the only Player. Someone will come along again, or we'll reopen the save...and we feed into the engine beneath. The heart of Darkness...

Will it be enough to give them a happy save file? Or are we going to have to force the program into a total crash, expose the being manipulating the strings... will we have to create terrible circumstances for these creatures in order to free them of Gaster? Are we any better, stepping in and shaping their lives? Are they truly free to Hope...to Dream?

Kris is trying to be free of both of us. Kris is trying to save their mom and their friends. I think Kris is the true hero.

We, the player, are just another antagonist.

#long post #deltarune #deltarune spoilers #theory crafting #i'm on my bullshit again

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verobatto · 3 years

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Destiel Chronicles

Vol. XCVI

It was a love story from the very beginning.

The Destiel Reunion and the Cowboys Date

(13x06)

Hello my dears! We are finally here, in TOMBSTONE fanfiction 🤣

And of course, a whole unique volume for this delicious episode.

Dean is happy now

The reunion between Cas and Dean was really very beautiful. First of all we have Dean incredulous face, he can't believe what his eyes are seeing, he can't believe Cas is alive and in front of him.

DEAN: Cas, is that really you?

SAM: No. You're – you're dead.

CASTIEL: Yeah, I was. But then I… annoyed an ancient cosmic being so much that he sent me back.

Dean is hopes, Sam reality in this dialogue. Every inch of Dean wished Cas to come back. Now that he has him there, his eyes can't believe, but he really wants. And Sam brings back the fact that Cas was definitely dead.

SAM: I don't even know what to say.

DEAN: I do. Welcome home, pal.

(Gif set credit @gabrielokun )

This hug is beautiful, Sam is still surprised, but Dean react with a hug, he missed his angel so much, he is the one "running towards him" at first. The emotion in his eyes, and the relieved and happiness to have him back. The love of his life is back, after so much suffering.

CASTIEL: How long was I gone?

DEAN: Too damn long.

(Gif set credit @shirtlesssammy )

And here we have the difference between Family Love and Romantic Love:

When Mary Winchester comes back in 12x01, she makes the same question Castiel did. But Dean's answer is different. He can calculate the exacting days and years his mother had been dead. But with Cas is different, Cas represents the love of his life, his hopes, he was suicidale after he was gone, so... That time Cas wasn't there with him, it felt like eternal. That's why he didn't calculated, Because it was TOO DAMN LONG.

And he says it with the painful remembrance in his eyes, red because he wasn't sleeping well, and because he maybe had crying so many times.

After this angsty scene, we have a huge change in Dean. He is happy now, so happy, that he can't hide it. He is shinning again. Smiling. Hopeful. And in addition, he has a cowboy adventure, even when the data they have from Dodge City isn't that clear, he drags the whole team to it.

And just like in season 5, he rewrites TFW now 2.0, describing each member enthusiastically.

DEAN: Yeah, but we should probably check it out.

CASTIEL: Wait. Really?

DEAN: Yeah, we've done more on less. Besides Dodge City's kind of, uh, kind of awesome. All right, well… two salty hunters, one half-angel kid, and a dude who just came back from the dead. Again. Team Free Will 2.0. Here we go.

Before continuing with this happy Dean, let's check a mystery, that had been solved in season 15. Why Jack had power on the Empty or how is that Cas woke up. Of course it was Jack's power over the Empty, because he will be new god, but also, it was the Profound Bond, the deep love these men feels for each other the path Jack used to find Castiel. Is so freaking romantic I just can't...

Okay, coming back now with happy Dean...

And how Sam was trying to make him confess... Something else. Noticing the change in his brother, knowing what was the cause of it, it was so blatant, that the smart little brother confirms here Dean's true feelings for the angel...

SAM: Still can't believe you brought your own hat.

DEAN: Well, I can't believe you didn't.

SAM: You're in a good mood, huh?

DEAN: Yeah. And?

Sam was waiting some time alone to ask this to him. Imagine you saw your brother in so bad shape a day ago, suicidal, not having faith or hopes in life... An now, he's happy, shining. Smiling. Laughing. What could happen? Of course, CAS is back... But is Dean ready to confess what he feels for him to his brother? Or even, to recognize his own feelings for the angel?

(Gif set credit @deansplushy )

Dean recognize Castiel is not just the win he needed, but the BIG WIN he wanted in his heart. And he stops there. He can't say more, but is not necessary to say it. Sam is an insightful person, and he gets it. He understands and confirms Dean loves Castiel in that special way. But he is not ready to "come out from the closet" . And the scene that comes after this one, is Sammy, smiling crookedly and tilting his head, Because he knows the message behind those words. He turns back and closes a closet. Pure Symbolism.

Cowboys Adventures

Let's jump now to the "angry bear" scene.

What it means? Simply and perfectly, that scene means CASTIEL WATCHING DEAN SLEEPING OR EVEN TRYING TO WAKE HIM UP. Both of it reveals CASTIEL IN DEAN'S ROOM. INTIMACY. First hint of scene we've never seen. But indirectly pointing at a canon fact. And we love it.

Also, bossy, grumpy Dean that needs his coffee to function. And Castiel just submissively obeying his angry bear and sitting back in the coach... Damm these two... Their dynamic had always been like that, but we didn't have enough of it. We didn't have enough of domestic destiel.

Then, once in the car, Castiel is wearing a cowboy hat. So, it means they had to go to buy it somewhere. Just Imagine Dean looking for a cowboy hat to fit in Cas' head.

He fixes his boyfriend, because he wants him to look even more good.

DEAN: All right, listen, these Dodge City cops aren't likely to trust big city folks, so we're gonna have to blend.

CASTIEL: Which is why you're making me wear this absurd hat.

DEAN: It's not that bad. Well, actually, yeah, it kind of is. Hang on. [Dean reaches over and removes the hat band and tosses it in the back seat] All right. That's better.

CASTIEL: Is it?

(Gif credit @grumpycas )

This scene shows us again their intimacy and how Castiel just accepts to be part of his fantasies. He is willing to play Dean's cowboys game. Because he loves him. And this means to share a good time with him. But, CAS worries about how he looks. And he peeks into the rear viewer mirror, and if you look at Dean's facial expressions, I think he's having a heart attack for Cas' proximity. Hahahahss. Oh, Dean you're so in love in this date.

DEAN: [sighs] Yeah. Look, just act like you're from Tombstone, okay?

CASTIEL: The city?

DEAN: The movie. With Kurt Russell? I made you watch it.

CASTIEL: Yeah, yeah. Yeah. The one with the guns and tuberculosis. [in a deep cowboy voice] "I'm your Huckleberry."

DEAN: Yeah, exactly. Well, it's good to have you back, Cas. All right, follow my lead. We'll fit right in.

Gif credit @agusvedder

Okay i really think here is when Dean had a heart attack, an stroke and a bonner, at the same time, I will elaborate hahahaha

Another hint of their INTIMACY, is the fact that they watch movies together! Not just that, but Dean made CAS watch Tombstone, and who know how many other movies! (More domestic Destiel)

And then... Cas goes for it, because he knows how Dean loves cowboys, and because he is a sexy, hot, angel that knows how to seduce him, not just with eye fucking... But... Using the link over Dean.

And it works... Because the hunter closes his eyes, swallows and tries not to faint right there of arousal. And then, shamelessly, he just says IT'S GOOD TO HAVE YOU BACK, CAS.

And then, is so funny to watch Cas trying to follow Dean's lead. Oh gosh... Hilarious. Rom com.

Symbolism of the rest of the episode

Dean's bisexuality

Dave and Athena were a representation of Dean's bisexuality, just as in the Rocky's bar in 14x10.

In this episode we have Toxic!Dean mirrored by the monster, Dave and Innocent/Healing!Dean mirrored by Athena.

The dynamics between them was similar to te dynamics in the Rocky's bar, in which Dean's toxicity and AU!Michael, the monster, tried to keep Dean locked inside his emotional toxic prison.

DAVE: Athena, don't you think we have a good thing here? Why do you wanna go mess it up?

ATHENA: Whatever. I have to work.

Athena wanted to improve his life, to go to school and move to a bigger city. To be better. She had dreams. Innocent, is the best part of Dean.

Another important fact is Dave wearing another's man face, a very known bandit, adding to one of the topics of this season: masks, fake identity, as a foreshadow of Dean's possession.

So Dave is Toxic!Dean, his own monsters, trying to keep him in the darkness.

The visual narrative adds to this symbolism the red ascot I'm both characters, Dave and Athena, to point out again at Dean.

Jack and Dean

We will have Jack killing an innocent man because he couldn't control his powers. As a foreshadow of when he will kill Mary not controlling his powers again.

Jack carries with a green backpack, green is Dean's color, and the backpacks means guilts.

Here is when Jack starts feeling guilt for killing a man. TFW will connect with him trying to explain that's part of the job.

All the dead people and killing the monster

When Dave comes back with Athena, she discovers he is a monster, and rejects him. Because he killed someone. This is very symbolic because in Dean's head, he sees himself as a monster, a murderer, and he hates that part of him.

So, at the end of the episode, Dean says alone, helps the sheriff, the righteous man, saves him and saves the girl, his innocence, killing the monster, his toxicity.

This episode showed us the future inner battle Dean will have to win. And it will be successful.

To Conclude:

This was a very Destiel episode, they showed us hints of how intimate Dean and CAS are with each other. And how much Dean is in love with CAS.

The happiness after Castiel's returning alive, gives Sam almost a confirmation of Dean's true feeling for Castiel, assuming he is not ready yet to get out from the closet.

There was a foreshadow of AUMichael possessing Dean, and the inner battle of 14x10.

Dave and Athena represented Dean's bisexuality and part of his personality. Keeping in mind Athena is the greek goddess of wisdom, war strategy, is the good part of Dean and innocence.

Hope you like this meta, see you in the next one!

Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weird-dorky-little-d @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @authorsararayne @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @isthisdestiel @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @horsez2 @qanelyytha

@destielle @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis @superduckbatrebel @2musiclover2 @madronasky @anon-non2 @cea1996 @lisafu02 @asphodelesauvage @destiels-canonahhhhhhhhhh

If you want to be added or removed from this list just let me know.

If you wanna read the previous metas from this season here you have the links:

Vol. XCIII, XCIV, XCV.

Buenos Aires January 17 2021 02:31 PM

#destiel #destiel chronicles #destiel meta #Supernatural meta #season 13 meta #13x06 meta #tfw 2.0 #dean winchester #castiel #jack kline #sam winchester #cowboys #tombstone #domestic destiel

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formashimataichi · 3 years

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I was talking about this with a mutual, and I kind of wanted to clarify more expansively on a stance I took a few weeks ago about why it frustrates me that people perceive the message of Taichi’s arc to be that some people are ultimately just doomed to mediocrity or failure. At the most basic level, I think it’s unnecessarily imposing a lot of expectations upon a child barely out of high school, but even beyond that, I feel like adopting such a mindset spits (for lack of a better word) on the achievements made by a lot of other characters in the sport and in the narrative. Like, Harada and Sakurazawa are two people who are well into adulthood, and they never made it to Meijin or Queen either. They got incredibly close on multiple occasions, but ultimately their opponents were stronger in some way, shape, or form. And of course, there is a despair that’s tied to that, and we’re privy to moments of frustration and sadness from both of them over those losses, but I’d like to ask, would you categorize either of them as failures? They’ve accomplished so much in their time otherwise. They’re incredibly revered veterans in the sport—Sakurazawa to the point that people have even named or intend to name their children after her—and have fostered a generation of strong, formidable students who are presently at the top of the sport. Each of them has such a vast knowledge of karuta, from different styles of play to how to maintain endurance and stamina, and that vests them with so much authority and respect from the students whom they pass it on to. And I’m not saying this to mean that they should resign themselves to only teaching and forego all dreams of winning the titles, especially considering we saw Harada vie for the title in real time despite his age and knee problems, but I don’t think it should mean any less that they didn’t win nor should it mark them as interminable failures. The fact that they have continued to compete and make it so consistently high in the sport for so long is absolutely incredible. We see that Haruka is already worried about how aging and the side effects of her pregnancies on her body is going to affect her as a player, and she’s not even as old as Harada, who has continued playing the game in earnest into his fifties. This also doesn’t touch on the dozens of other characters who are also ultimately competing for the title, like Sudou, Rion, etc.

To bring this back to Taichi, though, I guess my point is that I find it very hard to understand why people seem so insistent upon believing that his story is about failure when in many ways his story has only just begun. Earlier, when I was placing my cards, for the first time in my life, I thought of them as dear. My friends. The goal to bet my youth on. The time we spent together. I thought of karuta that gave me all that as dear. I understand giving up on a sport if it makes you entirely miserable; that’s why Taichi had to leave the club and reorient himself to begin with. But doesn’t it seem a bit unrealistic to anyone that Suetsugu would showcase him having genuinely enjoyed playing for the first time, only to have him subsequently quit for good? Not to mention, Taichi’s progression to me as a karuta athlete is honestly incredibly frightening; he hasn’t put nearly as much time into the sport as Chihaya and Arata and yet he manages to almost completely catch up to them, all while hating the sport itself. Most people here think you’re just a kid who rode a wave of momentum to get here. But the members of our society know that you don’t have much momentum or luck. What you have is skill. It frustrates me a lot when people try to attach “failure” to Taichi’s person because the level of his achievements hardly matches up to that title. He’s an incredible force within the sport and almost manages to bridge that gap with Arata in just three years. And I realize the progression of chapters following the Qualifiers can be confusing, because it really does look like Taichi is giving up despite all of that. But I feel like you have to consider the fact that the Qualifiers was a huge event for him in terms of enlightenment and perspective—he’s a high school student about to graduate, and all of these new revelations about himself are on the table, so I don’t think it’s unrealistic that deciding what he ultimately wants to do is going to take some time and thought. There’s also very clearly a reason that Suetsugu is keeping him away from the matches physically, because imagine how overwhelmed he would feel were he to witness those matches for himself and realize that this is something he doesn’t want to let go of just yet. (I’m not sure if it’s intentional, but it reminds me a bit of Arata entering Oumi Jingu during the first year Nationals. We know how crucial physically entering the hall and seeing the matches for himself was in terms of securing his return to the sport.) The wait is agonizing, certainly, but that’s what comes with the experience of reading a monthly manga where every recent chapter has hardly covered a few minutes’ time, because nearly every minute is precious.

To wrap this up, though, I just hope people can wait until the end of the story to criticize where Suetsugu has taken his arc rather than try to diminish its worth before it’s even reached an important conclusion. And I hope people realize how unhealthy it is to believe that your failures in high school will define you or doom you for the rest of your life, not just in terms of Taichi specifically but also in terms of what it’s saying about how you perceive the other characters. At the end of the day, I think it’s very clear that the message of the story and specifically the sport is that you have to enjoy it for yourself and believe in the people around you to want to keep playing—that’s something that ultimately almost every older character feels regardless of their wins and losses, and I think it’s a very valuable mindset to embody with regards to any sport.

#mashima taichi #chihayafuru #*meta #this is so long i apologize i am just feeling a Lot #also please do not take this as me saying you're not allowed to be frustrated!#that's absolutely not what i'm saying #i just. hope people could have a little more faith in suetsugu #it feels unfair to assume that she doesn't care about him or that she's forgotten about him #and i honestly feel like his conversation with chitose is very impt #and foreshadowing of what he'll finally decide #but yeah anyway i hope this makes it clearer for anyone #who was confused by stuff i had said prior

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swgoji2001 · 3 years

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My Thoughts on Jedi Fallen Order

So after upgrading to a new, stronger laptop (pretty sure my stupidity in attempting to run this game on my old laptop hastened its tragic, untimely demise), I finally finished Jedi Fallen Order last night. I had mixed feelings going into this game, as I have some friends who said it was amazing while others said it was a mediocre story with decent gameplay.

Now after playing, was it the greatest Star Wars game I’ve ever experienced? No, but it was very good. Some minor gripes here and there, but overall I had a blast playing the game.

Warning: Some spoilers will be included, I’ll try to keep them as minor as possible though.

Story:

So I’m not gonna go overly deep into the story as I don’t want to spoil it for anyone who still hasn’t played the game, but to be honest I found the plot of Fallen Order to be a bit generic at first. It’s a classic light side vs dark side narrative with a redemption arc or two sprinkled in. In fact, I found the plot of Fallen Order to be quite similar in structure to the Disney Trilogy. Both have MacGuffin hunts (holocron and wayfinder), both include journeys to different planets following the trail of someone else (Eno Cordova and that one assassin dude mentioned in IX), both have mentors who have distanced themselves from the Force (Cere and Luke), and both have antagonists who were failed by their masters (Trilla and Kylo).

Fallen Order splits off from this more generic route after returning to Dathomir and does it’s own thing, but I found myself asking why I enjoyed the first 75% or so of Fallen Order when I absolutely hated the DT. I found the answer to lie mainly in two things: the characters and the world they found themselves in.

Characters:

Cal Kestis: I absolutely loved Cal’s character arc. He has his own deep personal struggles with his past, feeling responsible for the death of his master. He faces those fears and comes to terms with his past, determined to make a better future. Cal not only comes out of his journey a Jedi Knight, but as a stronger person. Compare this to Rey, who had no meaningful flaws or personal struggles. Plus Cal’s the first ginger Jedi! Score one for diversity!

BD-1: My fourth favorite Star Wars droid, only behind HK-47, KOTOR 2′s T3-M4, and K-2SO. He’s cute, adorable, and loyal to a fault. What more could you ask for in a droid? (Other than a tibanna-powered blaster rifle and a bloodthirsty, anti-meatbag personality of course!) Plus there’s a revelation about his history towards the end that only makes him better and better.

Cere Junda: Star Wars has always had its mentor characters, but in all honesty I found Cere to be pretty generic. A Jedi Master who failed her Padawan and touched the dark side, only to be horrified by it and renounce the Force. Throughout learning her story, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had already seen something like this before. Her arc isn’t bad, it’s well done and feels natural to her character, it was just rather generic.

Greez Dritus: Gotta say Greez grew on me as the game went on. He has his flaw in his gambling problem which bites Cal in the ass a couple times, but towards the end I really felt the connection between him and the others grow. He’s also the source of a good deal of humor.

Nightsister Merrin: Sadly, Merrin being an eventual ally was spoiled for me, but I love the subversion because it was built up that she would be an eventual boss fight. Merrin might be my favorite character besides Cal, I wish there were more interactions with her in game! She’s hot, has a great accent, a wicked sense of humor, and is powerful with Nightsister magick. But beyond all that, she’s a parallel to Cal. Both are survivors, the last of their kind, and I’m hoping that if a sequel is made, it goes deeper into their relationship because Merrin and Cal have great chemistry. I also love how Merrin challenges Cal and Cere’s plan to train the next gen of Jedi using the holocron, putting that idea in a more realistic, less idealistic light.

Prauf: I really feel bad for him. I liked him and you could feel the camaraderie between him and Cal, how he wanted Cal to succeed and do great things. He didn’t deserve what happened to him.

Oggdo Bogdo: Fuck this frog! He killed me so many times!

Trilla Suduri (Second Sister): The Jedi Padawan that felt betrayed by her master and became an inquisitor. I always love it when antagonists have a personal connection to the protagonists in some way, shape, or form. Trilla shakes Cal’s faith in Cere, and plants seeds of doubt in him. She wants revenge and the Emperor’s favor, and therefore we know why she chases Cal across the galaxy. She has motivations for all her actions, which is something that Kylo lacked in the DT.

Taron Malicos: I knew something was off about this guy the second I met him. I quite enjoyed the clash of beliefs between him, Merrin, and Cal. Malicos proposes a way forward, a new Jedi Order, but one founded on darker teachings. He offers Cal that power, but Cal proves his stature as a Jedi in refusing it.

Ninth Sister (Masana Tide): Probably the weakest of the villain characters for me. Ninth barely has any presence in the game at all other than the start and to serve as a boss battle on Kashyyyk. I honestly just don’t think she fits into the story as is. Perhaps if they tweaked it so that Ninth and Cal knew each other back before Order 66 she would have fit better. Ninth just doesn’t have any personal connection to Cal and the Mantis crew (like Trilla does) and doesn’t really serve as a trial like Malicos does. Remove her from the story and not much changes.

(If you somehow haven’t had this next one spoiled yet, I’m impressed. Please skip to ‘World’ if so)

Darth Vader: I absolutely loved how he was portrayed. A terrifying, unstoppable force. You won’t last in a fight with him, your can only hope you can outrun him.

World:

Fallen Order’s worldbuilding was on point. Cal’s ability to sense Force Echoes lets you get a more detailed understanding of the environment around you. It’s a small-scale Star Wars story, but the planets all feel lived in if you take the time to explore them. It’s the small details like the probe droid witnessing your initial use of the Force on Bracca or the side-stories you can discover like the tragic tale of the family running from the Empire on Zeffo or Malicos’ corruption and manipulation of Merrin that really flesh out the world. Compare this to the galactic-scale story the DT told, which somehow made the galaxy feel extremely small and uninteresting.

My only complaint with the world-building is the Zeffo. They’re just... there. Very little is explained about them. Who were they? Why were they important? What happened to them? Why did they disappear? Perhaps this was to leave room for a sequel but to me the Zeffo just felt like discount Rakata. I wish the devs had gone with the Rakata instead, but maybe that’s just me.

Also the wildlife on every world is more than capable of killing you if you aren’t careful so you almost always have to be on your toes for them, which rolls us into the next part...

Gameplay:

The gameplay was great fun in Fallen Order. Leveling up and unlocking new abilities was exciting and once I got the hang of them all, it was so much fun just cutting through your enemies. I played on Jedi Master difficulty (died approximately 75 times, give or take a few I may have missed) and it felt really well balanced. It forced me to study my opponent’s moves and adapt to them instead of being a hack-and-slash type of game. Combos are fluid and fun to pull off, parrying opponents leaves an opening to attack, and you can experiment with different fighting styles.

Customizing your lightsaber and appearance was also great fun. So many different options and combinations for everything! Plus you got rewarded for exploration with these extra customization options, so it adds incentive to do that if you care about appearances and whatnot. You can become the General Grievous of ponchos!

Overall Rating: 8.5/10

Overall Fallen Order was a great game that could have been even better. Of course I have to admit I’m looking at this through the nostalgia of games like KOTOR 2, which flipped Star Wars completely on its head. I would have preferred if Cere’s story had been a bit more nuanced, the Ninth Sister had more reason for being in the story, or if the game had Cal seriously question the use and role of Jedi in the galaxy (he does a couple times to BD-1, but it’s never really built on).

And then there’s my overall gripe about this type of story set after Order 66. It sets up questions like... where was Cal during the OT? Was he dead? Somewhere in the Unknown Regions doing something else? I know the ending of the game sets up the opening for Cal’s story to continue, but still, these types of stories usually end in death for the Jedi protagonist, so I am a bit nervous for his future.

Despite that though, I am super happy I finally decided to play this and am eagerly awaiting a sequel to continue this story.

#jedi fallen order

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afriendlyirin · 3 years

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5, 6, 8!

(In reference to this ask meme.)

5. Share one of your strengths.

Dialogue. I consume a lot of media where dialogue is the only or primary form of actual writing (movies, video games, etc.), so that is something I have good knowledge of. I like having characters chatter, banter, and engage in long complex discussions.

6. Share one of your weaknesses.

A while ago I would have said "description", but I think I've actually gotten pretty good at that after writing a choose-your-own-adventure game where description was crucial. I think the thing I struggle with more now is character design; I've made exceptionally few original characters in my stories, and then only for minor roles. I have a hard time coming up with original characters that feel as rich and real as canon characters. All those character design lists that are like "What's their favorite color?" and "How do they like their coffee?" just make me go... I dunno! How is this relevant!!

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

From chapter 12 of The Darkness Between Stars:

White Diamond’s lips tightened. “Just as I suspected. We felt Pink’s presence, but this gem is not her. This is Rose Quartz, hiding herself in the shards of her crime, come to deliver us one final insult. You fools,” she spat, looking between Blue and Yellow Diamond. “You should have known this at once. She is nothing like Pink. Her gem is not even the right shape! How did this happen? Why did you allow this embarrassment to occur?”

“Because I wanted it to be true.”

Steven turned towards the voice.

He braced himself for her hatred, but Yellow Diamond only looked back at him with sorrow. All her anger, all her stoicism, everything she had worn on her face like a shield, had been wiped away, leaving her looking as vulnerable as a child.

“I knew,” she said. “I knew it couldn’t really be her. But I let myself believe it. I wanted to pretend, because…” A tear spilled from her eyes, and rolled slowly down her face. “I miss her. I miss her so much.”

White Diamond was quiet for a long time. “We all do,” she said, with real sorrow. Then her expression hardened, and she continued, “But it does no good to cling to fantasies. We must accept the truth.” She turned back to stare down at Steven. “Rose Quartz took Pink from us, and now she plans to destroy us as well.”

Connie grabbed Steven’s hand again. With a burst of energy, he forced his arm down. “No!” he cried out, staring White Diamond in the eyes. “Rose – I never wanted to shatter Pink Diamond, and I don’t want to shatter you either! It doesn’t have to end this way! Please, we can –”

“Silence.”

Steven’s mouth snapped shut.

“You are correct, Rose Quartz,” White Diamond said. “It will not end that way. Your little game, the mockery you have made of our empire and our authority, ends here and now. You believed you knew better than us. You believed you could defy us. You believed yourself better than what you were. All these things you told yourself and all the gems you perverted. All were lies. You are and were always our gem, to use and to discard as we pleased, and now, you will obey your final order:

“Die.”

I really love incredibly ornate, overdramatic ways of speaking, especially villain monologues. I had to hold myself back for so much of this fic since everyone was a kiddie cartoon character established to talk much more casually, so when I got to this villain monologue I finally got to go all-out. A long speech converging onto a single, powerful point is also a favorite of mine.

I was also amused by having Steven try to interrupt only to get smacked down; characters interrupting long speeches by characters who assume everyone's just going to let them have the floor is hilarious, doubly so in the context of a god-queen with mind control powers who has probably never had to deal with that before.

Additionally, the beginning bit with Yellow Diamond was heavily inspired by episode 7x16 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, where after an entire episode of lying and pontificating, Andrew breaks down crying as he admits he knew the specter wasn't really Warren but he followed it anyway. I always found that to be an incredibly powerful scene that played wonderfully with the concepts of masks, projection, and narrative, and did an incredible job of humanizing a character previously built up to be nothing but an annoyance and a joke. In the early planning for The Darkness Between Stars, I kept wondering how we could justify the diamonds getting fooled by such a transparently pathetic ruse, until it finally clicked that we didn't need to; people never act perfectly rationally, and if they're desperate enough they'll fool themselves better than the best liar ever could.

#writing #fanfiction #the darkness between stars #ask meme

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joeys-piano · 3 years

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Joey’s Writing Process - Questionnaire

Was inspired by an authortube questionnaire tag thingy from YouTube and wanted to answer those questions and post them here~

You could say I was tagged by Kelley Tai from the authortube community because I decided to do this after hearing her responses to these questions ^^

What genres do you write?

Being someone who doesn’t write for a specific genre in mind, I dabble in everything and anything -- depending on the concept in my mind. But during the past few months, I can summarize that most of my works would be considered contemporary. Whether it’s young adult, romance, or a few character studies I was interested in. The kinds of genres I typically play with are dependent on the fandom I’m writing for.

What setting gets you the most productive?

I am the most productive when I’m writing in a quiet, comfortable spot. Preferably, alone because I talk while I’m writing. So because of that, I mostly write in my bedroom or private living space -- it lets me jabber on and on and read as loudly to my heart’s content.

As well, as long as I have a sturdy structure to lean my back against and a soft blanket or pillow to drape over my lap, that is my ideal writing setup as I kickback on my laptop. Somewhere during these past two semesters, I’ve conditioned myself to be my most creative when I’m on my portable laptop because my brain has associated it with “fun” and “chill time” while my workhorse, gaming laptop has been associated with “academic” and “not-so-fun stuff.”

If you have multiple story ideas, how do you go about picking which one to start on first?

The ideal response would me saying: “I’m picking the work that has the most potential, is the most fleshed out, follows the current reading trends, etc…”

But in all honesty, there’s only two criteria I use when narrowing down multiple projects: 1) how am I feeling? and 2) which one will I make time for? I know myself well enough that when I’m very interested in an idea, I will carve out time and do everything in my power to work on that story -- despite all the nonsense I have to do for life and uni. And this is dependent on how I’m currently feeling and what story ideas resonate with that feeling.

I’m well aware that as creatives, it’s unwise to have our emotions dictate what we’re doing because it can make us wishy-washy and that’s how excuses crop up. I get it, I know it, I’m staring it down it down the pie hole. But in spite of this flaw, it works really well with my writing style because I’m more emotion and introspective-heavy. If I’m not feeling for what’s going on, I just shelve the idea for a while and come back to it when I’m in the right vibe. And that works well since I’m a short story writer, and it lets me pivot easily and not be stuck in a specific mood for long. I believe that’s why chapter-works are so hard for me because I’m stuck in a perpetual mood and it’s very exhausting.

Do you outline?

I only outline as much as I need to know -- meaning that, I outline enough to get the momentum rolling and for me to put thoughts onto paper and to get the story flowing. As a pantser with recurring self-doubts, I use outlines as a way of motivation and to convince myself that an idea isn’t as (insert self-doubt) as I originally thought. Because of this approach, I love knowing what my beginning will be and I will outline the shit out of that while I leave the middle and ending up to my interpretation as I pants my way through the story and see where it naturally goes.

That’s why whenever you read my works, you’ll notice how solid the beginning is and how it meanders towards the end. Because at that point, I’m flowing by feeling and am steering the story to where it wants to go. Having this loose trajectory is great for me because I’m often inserting bridge moments or extra scenes or am embellishing something throughout the story, and that gives my stories the texture that make them a bit more exciting.

Do you start your first draft with pen and paper, typewriter, or computer?

I computer everything.

With how weak my finger, hand, wrist and arm nerves and muscles have been, I can’t write by hand for very long and I don’t have the funds to purchase a typewriter, the ink or the special paper that those need. So a laptop is my go-to and it saves me a lot of physical clutter.

What do you do to get through writer's block?

Read, watch, and listen to as much as content as I can get my hands on if I’m experiencing a creative burnout and if it’s hard for me to find ideas that I want to devote my time to. If the writer block is stemming from doubts that I have, I like to read quotes from Goodreads and to expose myself to other styles and concepts or just reading how someone worded something in a certain way. Because that expands the choices where I can take my writing or concept, and it’s motivation in its own way as I truck forward with what I’m doing.

Do you format your project from the beginning or worry about that later?

Font: Times New Roman Font Size: 11 Font Color: White Page Color: Black Line Spacing: 1.15, space after a paragraph

Every time I open up a new word document, those are my go-to configurations for a successful write. I believe a few years ago, I read something about how writing with a dark page is easier on the eyes. So ever since I did that, I’ve never looked back.

Do you edit as you go or when you're finished with the first draft?

Many writing advices out there say that you shouldn’t write as you go, and they have convincing reasons as to why. However, for my writing style, I do edit as I go and it’s worked really well for me -- especially since I’m a pantser. Because whenever I feel stuck, I know it’s because something earlier in the work isn’t working well for me. So I often reread and edit as I do so and revise and shape the story to where I left off and I know where to go.

It’s why I don’t have a “true” first draft. Because in actuality, different parts of my draft are in different stages of the writing process. So in a sense, I have a living draft that is whatever it wants to be.

I will say that this is much easier to handle when the work is short, but I’ve done this for 12k, 15k, 22k stories before. It’s a lot harder and it’s very exhausting, but it does work and I have systems in place to keep me moving forward.

After finishing your drafts/manuscript how long do you give it a break before you start going back over it or do you give it a break at all?

As I mentioned in the previous question, I revise and edit as I go so it’s difficult for me to answer this question. However, I try to give myself a few hours or at least half a day away from the story before I come back to it and continue where I left off.

I will take breaks between short story projects (at least one day). But other than that, that’s it.

Is there something that you prefer to do to get you through writing? (Playing music, tv, having your favorite drink, or food)

I love starting my writing session by listening to some music I don’t mind repeating for a long time and listening to music that vibes with what I’m doing. And if I’m beginning a story, I like to go on Goodreads and read some opening quotes or random lines to get my gears turning as I approach my writing. If I’m picking up from where I left off, I like to reread from the beginning or from a beginning marker that I’ve left behind and go from there to where I left off so I can get back into the moment.

Do you schedule your writing sessions?

I write whenever I can -- through pockets of time. So no, I don’t have a schedule.

However, I tend to begin stories or at least through the density of them through the morning to around the early afternoon. In the early evening and late at night, that’s when I’m loosely outlining and brainstorming new ideas because my inner-editor is a lot quieter than those periods.

Do you have word count or chapter goals for your writing sessions?

No. However much I write, that’s how much I write.

It could be 300 words in one day, or it could be 1.8k words in one day. Wildly depends on how I’m feeling and how I’m scheduling everything else in my life around my writing.

Are there any quirky things you do to make your projects more fun?

I did a lot of poetry before I got serious with narrative writing, so something that I do to make the writing more fun is that I incorporate poetry techniques into my stories and use that rhythm to have it interesting. This feeds into my writing habit of reading out loud as I work and because I’m stressing on how the rhythm goes and how it sounds when I hear it, much of what I write is meant for the ear -- rather than the eyes.

Do you work on multiple projects at one time?

My brain can only handle one story concept at a time. Already, writing takes a lot out of me and I would run myself ragged if I had to juggle more than one in a single day.

How often do you research what you're writing?

Depends on the work itself.

If I’m writing my first fic for a fandom or am writing for a character or pairing I’m not comfortable, I’ll research around on fandom wikipedia and read a few works from other writers to get a sense of how I could approach the character or pairing.

I’m working on a story that’s heavily involved in a certain topic or whatnot, I will go ham on that research because I want to know the rules of what I’m incorporating and how I can spin those rules to find solutions. However, it’s been a long while since I’ve done something like this.

How do you organize your projects?

I write in a word document whose only purpose is for me to draft, revise and edit on. After I’m finished with that story, I transfer that work onto a new word document and shelve that to a “Completed Folder.”

There’s something about having a word document purely dedicated to just the writing process, there’s something about that helps me out a lot. I don’t know what it is, but it feels like there’s magic there. There’s thousands upon thousands of blood, sweat and tears drenched into that word document and I just build upon that and let it carry me through. It’s very motivating on a primitive level.

Do you reward or punish yourself for achieving or missing out on your writing goals?

No.

I’ve done something like this in the past and it just didn’t work out because it spiked my anxiety. I don’t know how to define my relationship with writing, but it’s definitely not that. It feels more like a friendship than a -- than a platonic BDSM, work-related creative thingy. I don’t take pleasure in pain nor pain in pleasure, so yeah. No.

Are there any works similar to your projects that you look for and use - for inspiration and/or comparison?

Again, Goodreads quotes for inspiration. That’s about it.

How early do you wait to start looking for and hiring editors?

Being that this is an authortube writing process questionnaire, it doesn’t apply to me as a fanfic writer. The equivalent to this for the fandom space would be a critique partner or a beta reader. I don’t use either. I just read my things over and slap it through an editing and grammar program before posting for others to see. And if any errors manage to slip through, I let the lucky bastards live.

If you've finished a first draft or a manuscript. Tell us how you felt afterwards. (Pick your favorite) If you're not through the first draft yet tell us how you're feeling about it at the moment.

I feel very calm and content after finishing the Ever Given x Suez Canal ficlet I wrote earlier this morning. Given the whirlwind experience March has been, this felt like a great well to close the month with and it was genuinely a lot of fun.

Tag someone!

Tagging @nightyelfy because I know you’ve published a book and I would love to see what your responses are.

#fanfic writer #writer #writing community #writeblr

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czechforrain · 4 years

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CR Quarantine meta thoughts

So I thought I’d give a quick approximation of where I am with Critical Role and where I think C2 will go and where the characters still have to go before the campaign comes to a close.

In order name-wise

1. Beauregard

As of right now she seems to be in not the best place. Her major goal along with Caleb’s for the last 40 chapters was to bring an end to the war. Now that there’s an uneasy peace, she’s partially conflicted on what to do next and how the people behind this war should face justice and whether the costs of that could outweigh the risks. She also wants to tell jester about how she feels and her apprehension to this seems to be based on her self worth. This came up again as a result of visiting her father and she seems to think that she could lose everything and go back to being an outsider without a place again. There’s also her old girlfriend who was arrested that the party might run into. Not to avoid mentioning, Yasha and her having some feeling toward each other before E69 and how her returning may complicate her feelings with Jester. A lot of moving pieces. How she deals with her feelings and her family is something I’m definitely interested in.

2. Caduceus

Caduceus is currently finding his purpose in helping others find theirs and seems to be committed until some arbitrarily defined point where everyone seems fine off on their own. I do think part of him will realize that he’s not beholden to these people and that he doesn’t owe them anything and they like him for who he is. I think he knows this subconsciously but he’s a very duty driven man and it’ll be interesting to see how this changes when he realizes the M9 have developed over time and might not need him but still continue to want him. There’s also still the grove and whether what he has done is enough to save it. This remains to be seen and might be handled more towards the endgame depending on how powerful the source of the corruption is.

3. Caleb

Caleb seems to have progressed a lot on overcoming his desire to change fate. He straight up mentions “ you can’t change the past” in talking about personal compliance in causing harm but I don’t think he’s completely over the ideas of going back in time and erasing his sin from happening. He’s certainly much more comfortable with where he is now and has found himself a family again. His main goal right now still seems to be finding away to bring the Cerebrus Assembly (or more accurately the bad seeds in the assembly) to justice without jeopardizing the unsteady peace they’ve won. This seems to be leading into Mighty Nein Navy Seals Vigilantism but might involve a ton of investigative journalism as well. I have no doubt that his plot hook and that of his former organization will continue to play a big role in the story going forward. The extent he can change the organization and possibly even turn his childhood friends away from the path of trent is another interesting side plot. The same goes for his buddy Essek and how he decides to react to Caleb wanting him to make amends for the mistake he’s made.

4. Fjord

Fjord is a super interesting character especially when comparing him before and after the Pirate Arc. A lot of people, for clear reasons, separate Fjord’s attitude based on when he lost his accent but to me his change in personality came a bit earlier than that. His role as a character for the Mighty Nein early on was as one of the faces, the badass Texan smooth guy who was able to get what he wanted generally easy and was afraid of flexing his martial might. This kind of escalated a bit, one of the moments which really stuck with me was when he cut off Algar’s hand after he already had him beaten. It’s mentioned by Fjord later on that he found himself using more power / violence as a short cut to get where he wanted and that he feels he started to cheat himself by doing so. Once they ended their pirate adventure, Fjord seemed like he took more of a backseat with his role as a leader in the group and I think part of that was due to him questioning if he really deserved to be a leader. This also tied in with him questioning whether following Ukotoa was the right choice and his realization he couldn’t game the system and earn powers with nothing expected in return. This culminated in him renouncing Satan...I mean Uka’Toa and following the Wildmother as a paladin. Since he has done so he’s starting to act more reasonably and less impulsive when there’s a possibility of conflict. He’s humbled himself and I think he feels it’s more freeing than what he was before he changed as a person. The one thing that has accompanied this though is a string of combat misfortunes (due to dumb luck) which is a neat perpendicular to his personal growth. He feels more free and more himself but he may feel weaker than he did when he was putting on a mask. I don’t think this will lead to him having second thoughts as a Paladin but I think it’s building up to him eventually assuming a larger role asa leader once he truly realizes that he can be both himself AND great. Caduceus has mentioned this before about ‘one day someone will ask for a miracle and you’ll be there to help’ and I cannot wait for the moment where Fjord is able to get a HDYWTDT and be generally badass in his New Voice and prove to himself that he had nothing to worry about.

5. Jester

Jester is my favorite version of a cheerful but awkward person, earlier on she kind of had me worrying about how much trouble she’d get them into but I over time realized that she has control over what she does and when she’s chaotic randomly vs when she has a purpose behind it. Case in point, the Cupcake Scene which was excellent and super risky but really paid off. Right now she’s dealing once again with how she feels as a disciple of the Traveler and the revelation he’s not a god revealed to her right before Travellercon. Now she’s kind of wondering what to do with several other devotees and what even will happen with him in the future regarding his divinity. I’m very interested in how this event will shape out and if there’s any 3rd party intervention into the story that will occur at this place during the time. It just seems like a narrative point where Matt could reveal something huge. But then again everyone expected fireworks at the meeting at Sea and cooler heads prevailed so maybe everything will work out swimmingly. Anyways I can’t wait to see what her next journey is after Travellercon, it will probably involve her dad and mother and may involve Darktow and is sure to not be predictable. There’s also her romance options but there’s a myriad of ways that could go and everyone else on tumblr has mentioned it so I’ll leave my peace there.

6. Veth

Veth essentially got exactly what she wanted and there’s no grand reason for her to stick around besides her enjoying the company of these people and possibly something similar like Caduceus’ “To the end of the road” type thing. She loves her family obviously the most of all, which was most pointedly seen when she insulted Caleb and blamed him for what happened to her husband after being super supportive of him for the first 49 episodes. I think she still has a lot of growth to do as a character and there might be an avenue with her prejudices. Someone else on here has mentioned it before but basically, Veth is kind of a suburban wine mom who believes a bunch of stereotypes and has a “us vs them” type of mentality. That’s one possibly route for her to go if she decides to stick around for awhile. It is possible a huge event is around the corner that throws Wildemount into disarray and requires her to stay for awhile but we’re currently in a limbo where her leaving after travelercon would make sense.

7. Yasha

Yasha is right now in a bit of a floating period. She really wants to make up for her role in Obann’s schemes even though it’s not her fault. She had a heart to heart with Caleb where he basically told her the pain never really goes away but it can be eased by the company by the company you keep. So her redemption can be pretty open-ended. I really want to see her wings again and please let them be white and feathery, I would love it. There’s also the possibility of her wife being alive / them running into her old tribe, with the boss behind it still being alive and there being some sort of conflict like how Grog had his issues with the Herd of Storms. Ashley is a full time member for the first time so hopefully there’s a lot to do with her on the cards and we get to see more juicy fireside interactions with the Nein.

#critical role #critical role c2 #the mighty nein #yasha #beau #fjord #caleb widowgast #beauregard lionett #jester lavorre #caduceus clay #veth brenatto #nott the brave #critical role spoilers #cr meta

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rekkingcrew · 4 years

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Campaign Debrief

So for nearly 2 years I ran an Edge of the Empire campaign with 3-4 players, mostly weekly. These last couple of months we’ve been using discord, which has gone great. I want to get down some of my thoughts about what worked and what didn’t.

This is gonna be a big wall of text and all but two bits are gonna be under the cut: system and play style.

Fantasy Flight Star Wars game system is legit my favorite system EVER. (Not to dick wave or anything, but that’s including D&Ds 2-5, Gurps, White Wolf, Blades in the Dark, Dungeon World, Deadlands, and a few miscellaneous other short form ones). The system of advantages and disadvantages, and especially triumphs and despairs rather than just straight successes and failures really opens up complex narrative opportunities and gives a chance for wild story beats that just would not have happened otherwise. The fights go fast but feel meaty and there’s a lot of room to pitch advantages to your friends so you’re not just waiting your turn. Character creation is granular enough that your choices always feel meaningful, and points can be spent anywhere, so you can really specialize and shape your character.

We played very collaboratively and it made things AMAZING. Part of this is that we were all good friends and have played together for a while now. Our taste in what kind of story we want is similar- nuggets of drama scattered throughout, but mostly cutting up. A lot of the best NPCs and story suggestions came from my players rather than from me- our season one boss villain, Imperial spymaster “Uncle” Karston Severax, a pantoran ex-special forces black operative whose current public face was a Mr. Rogers-esque children’s TV presenter, for example, was someone my players started out and all of us collective “yes and” added to around the table, and he was JUST THE BEST. These kind of exchanges also gave us moments like the time our tech tried to blackmail the head of a security corporation with the fact that he was having an affair and he’d written just LOADS of incredibly cringey fanfiction; but the roll was such that the attempt ended with him finally getting the push he needed to quit a job he hated, get out of a marriage that just wasn’t working, and follow his dream of self-publishing. He even dedicated his first book to our slicer. Because it wasn’t a DM vs Players atmosphere, because we were all on the same page, I could ask my players “hey, what do you want for your triumph?” and “all right, so who is the NPC you know?” as well as just “that’s enough to finish this guy, what does this look like?” This campaign was 1000% better for sharing that world building load, and the players were all, I think, more invested.

more below the cut.

What Worked

One of the most useful things I ever did was start giving players morality pet NPCs that were their special hench people, and I’m embarrassed that I waited so long to assign one to our droid.

The zero session was absolutely invaluable in setting the tone of the game and the relationship between characters, and I will bang this drum until I’m fucking blue in the face. Don’t meet in the first session. Sit the players down and say “how do you know each other, why do you stay together, what are some of your past adventures?” It’s just so much better.

Cameos and ties to our other games, in what we’ve been calling “The Drax Kreiger Expanded Universe” have continued to be welcome pretty much every time. People were delighted to have a moment or two to slip back into old characters.

I was able to identify what each player wanted and give them that. Brick’s player wanted quiet scenes with big character emotion, like his one on one pit fight the character didn’t want to have, or the letter from his mother telling him how proud she was of him, or the time in training where he tapped into how angry he really was and it spooked the character and everyone on the ship. Nyla’s player wanted a big epic, but also difficult space journey of good vs. evil, and so Nyla got a padawan whose parents she had possibly killed when she fought for the empire, she dug up the grave of her clone teacher’s order 66′d jedi for the crystal for her lightsaber, she got to cleanse a temple that was trapped in a fruitless struggle between light and dark, and a climactic lightsaber battle that was about possibly sacrificing herself for the good of others. TK’s player was deep into star wars trivia and space stuff, so he practically squealed when Verpine shatter weapons showed up, and he seemed to get a kick out of the Evocii, and also that time they put on wing suits and dove the atmosphere of a gas giant. It’s worth noting nobody was actually all that interested in the thing that turns my gears: complex mysteries with a lot of clues and investigation, and once I let that shit drop, things ran a lot smoother.

Some of our best stuff was non-combat challenges, like climbing the cliffs of Naboo or navigating the deep undercity of Nar Shadaa. The guys reliably failed anything social, but environmental challenges were always appreciated.

I always tried to make sure there was more than one way to do things. For any given mission, especially early on, I’d try to brainstorm at least three ways something could be accomplished.

My party split up a LOT, but we found a sort of cinematic cutting back and forth to be really useful. When there was a big crit, or a goal accomplished, or something like that, we’d jump to the other party even if the fight wasn’t over. Sometimes that was only just, like, Brick and the guys doing drunk karaoke and saying to no one in particular “MAN, I hope Nyla’s having as fun a time as we are!” but it kept everyone involved and it wasn’t just people waiting their turn for 20 minutes at a time. Also people chimed in with fun advantages and disadvantages.

I had everybody write backstories and whenever I could, I incorporated in things from what they’d written. Our second season was basically TK tracking down the guy who’d made him, a Thackwash alien with the same sort of shifting personalities he had. TK’s player hadn’t written much about the guy except that he’d been a salvage mechanic who constructed TK for protection when he got in trouble with the local mafia. Giving that guy complementary personalities for each of TK’s really helped stick the landing on that one, and the player really enjoyed having actually completed his character’s goal.

It’s worth saying, we took some time at several points during the campaign, either individually or as a group, to talk about what we liked and didn’t, what we wanted more of, where we wanted things to go, possible directions for characters, mechanical issues, how to have a better game, group dynamics, all sorts of stuff. In a way it’s like sex: people have this fucked up expectation that you’ll just be good at it without communicating, and man, fuck that. Talking to my players was ALWAYS worthwhile.

I was always adamant, because it was a thing that bugged me when I was a player, that if a character had spent the points to be good at something, they got to be good at it. That made some things difficult, but I think it was the right decision. It took me a while to tailor fights right, and honestly a lot of times, splitting up the party was the best way to balance fights, but I never said to anyone hey that thing you spent all those points on, could you please not do that?

My players were excellent about encouraging each other to have serious dramatic moments. TK was completely ready to die in a fight, and when he lost a significant chunk of his programming, the way he chose to play it was really heartbreaking. Everyone came inside and had tea with Brick’s mom. No one stepped on anyone else’s fun when it was time to be serious, and everybody was great about cheering each other on, whether they were being funny or being dead serious.

I FUCKING FINISHED A CAMPAIGN. IT HAD AN END. So much stuff petered out over the years, I was adamant I wasn’t going to do that.

What Didn’t Work

Boy, my players had pretty much all the trouble trying to remember to use “they/them” pronouns for NPCs with neutral or alien genders.

No one is interested in falling damage. Sigh.

I did not keep good track of money or ship fuel or anything. The campaign didn’t end up relying on it too heavily (I was honestly expecting a much more Cowboy Bebop setup than where we drifted), but that was an area I kind of fell down.

We never really got obligation working correctly and in the end we just ended up abandoning it. We kept doing the force morality because the lone force player was very into it and it was a huge part of that character’s journey, but for the rest having people show up to collect on obligation was sometimes not possible in the story- or if it was possible it was pretty cumbersome. Campaign did obligation by arc, and I think that’s a pretty useful way to do it- roll at the end of the arc for what’s coming next.

Early on, I made way too many assumptions about what was an adventure hook for my players and what was an annoyance. Honestly, bits of this lasted pretty late. At one point I gave my players a spy for the larger rebellion they could totally talk to- he was even working with their resident bothan spy- but they looked at the senatorial assassination he was doing and literally said at the table “I think it’s best if we just walk away from all this.” And so they did. Which was frustrating, but, you know, it is what it is. They also never much cared about the hutt gang war.

I let a lot of things drop that I would have liked to bring back before the end, but in all honesty, I think we were all running a bit out of steam. I would have liked to put in Brick’s old mentor, or follow up with the imperial governor that was a falleen in a human skin suit, or see more of the bounty hunter’s guild, or have a nice end thing with our bothan spy, or any of that. But I do think it was time to end it. And we followed the threads people liked.

I had way too many NPCS.

What sort of worked

I had like 200 npcs and they were not all bangers. In particular, I let the party design their own ship, which I wish had played a bigger role (though it did really set the tone), and I let them design 2 npc crew who would fill in any party roles they didn’t want to play and guard the ship so they could go on adventures without worrying about it. The devaronian scoundrel was with the party to the end though I never really got him to be more than a joke, but the bothan spy kind of fell off, and while she made some appearances, she didn’t really have as big an impact as I would have hoped. She kind of got replaced by Nyla’s padawan, a hench mon calamari called Nezrene, who was a better fit with the party. But, you know, players will do what they like.

Factions. In the first bit of the campaign, my factions were a fucking life saver, because I could design scenarios with a sort of “what is each faction doing/ which faction hurts from this, which benefits?” By the second season we’d kind of abandoned them to go to the core, and by the third my group was solidly rebel, so the hutts and bounty hunters fell a lot by the wayside. I still think having a couple of broad poles of power, and having the players know them and their leaders, is a good call. But they do seem to kind of organically pare down on their own, and it’s easy to get caught up too much in them. Useful sorta?

There was definitely a point where my players just were not challenged by conventional challenges. We ended up doing most of the later fights that involved a lot of minions in montage. I’d have them roll their fight skills unopposed, just to see if they got any interesting advantage/triumph set ups. I still had boss fights that were mostly challenging, but there just was no point in throwing storm troopers or low level gangsters at them. Not when they have soak 8 and autofire, and that one talent that lets you kill every minion in a combat. Designings fight got a bit tricky, and in those big high level combats, despairs and triumphs come up a lot more and really sway the fight, which I like, but also it’s very hard to plan for.

Mass combat was tricky. I did a lot of it toward the end because my players were generals in a rebellion. I always had them do the rolls and some of the narration, but that wasn’t always enough to make them feel like things weren’t very arbitrary.

I personally love the rule that if you roll a despair shooting into an engaged combat you shoot your friend. Nyla, who got shot twice this way, does not.

We started the game with a tech character who dropped out. Toward the end, we picked up another tech character whose player couldn’t do their regular stuff because of covid lock down. Neither of these characters could fight at all, and both were very differently oriented than the rest of the party, and that was tricky to manage. Additionally, the dude coming in at the end had like a year and a half of in jokes he did not get and there were 200 goddamn npcs. I tried to give him the lowdown on what he might have heard about the party, but it was a combination of too much information and not that much player interest. He did get to break a star destroyer though, and I think he liked that.

I offered players XP to write backstory stuff, and later goodbye notes others could find if they kicked it. Not all of them did. In the end it made a negligible difference, and I still think offering the bounties on this is basically a good idea.

What I would do different next time.

Three ring binder that opens and closes so I could move fucking NPC stats around. I filled two goddamn school notebooks with notes for this campaign and there were so many goddamn times I was like “I KNOW I wrote this down, but where?!”

Players felt a bit aimless when they didn’t have a specific villain. I’d planted a few in, but they took finding, or they were too easy to avoid. Next time I would have a few more people who were actively on my player’s tails.

I would keep better campaign notes and/or ask one of the players to do so. I used to do recaps for the games when I played Rek. There’s stuff I KNOW I’ve forgotten, and more I’ll forget as time goes on, which is a shame. It’s a weird, ephemeral medium, but possibly I’m just spoiled by living in an age of easy reproduction and enormous storage where data is concerned.

Better book keeping in general, really.

When I did a mystery short, I wrote up a list of all the clues people could find but not where specifically they were, so that I could just jam them anywhere they seemed like they’d make sense whenever a roll called for a player to find something. I think I’d try to do that with player’s personal stories so they could be woven in a little better. I did a lot of flying by the seat of my pants.

All in all, I’m pretty happy with how it went, and I’m ready to get back to playing for a bit. I loved DMing, and I more or less DMed the game I would have liked to play, but man, doing this all the time, or being the only person who does it? After a while, that’d be a lot, and I’m looking forward to the break.

#star wars edge of the empire #Edge of the Empire #tabletop rp #i dmed

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kagami190 · 4 years

Text

“Death and Rebirth” Chapter 3: Death(True)

Chapter 3: Death(True)

-1-

Tsukasa Hiiragi hummed a little tune to herself as she cleaned off her place on the kotatsu after breakfast. She was starting to enjoy waking up early, even if her eyelids felt like small weights. It was something she did with pride, and was marveled at how much day happened while she hit the snooze button. She had made strides in - what her sis Kagami referred to as, "confronting her lackadaisical bad habits daily.”

Tsukasa's small humming smile turned to slightly firm lips as she thought about her twin sister. Sometimes Kagami could lay it on thick.

Even more so since they had both recently finished their senior year of high school. What Tsukasa had always dreamed were going to be the years that she and her twin would come out of their introvert ways and take on higher education with new form seemed like it was just going to be more of the same. Kagami taking the lead and Tsukasa trying to keep up.

There was certainly no absence of admiration and love for her fraternal twin. Tsukasa had always just hoped that she would...

Oh... what was that phrase? The phrase that Kona-chan said all the time.

Tsukasa actively frowned now. She hated it when she couldn't remember simple phrases like this and it was on the tip of her tongue. It made her feel like such a stupid dummy.

She had always hoped that by now Kagami would... she would... hmm, what was it?

"Oh," Tsukasa said out loud to herself in her excited, but slightly hushed tones, "Lighten up! That's it! I just wish she would lighten up."

From her peripheral vision, Tsukasa saw a mint-green bordered robe followed by the high pitched, albeit guttural yawn from the very person she was thinking of. Her sister Kagami continued to stretch out her arm and yawn as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Morning Tsukasa." Kagami said, "Who needs to lighten up, now?"

"Uh, morning sis!" Tsukasa did her best to sound her cheery normalcy. Another thing she hated about herself was how she couldn't seem to go 5 minutes without embarrassing herself in front of someone - family or otherwise.

"I was thinking about something else!" Tsukasa lied, poorly. Kagami was either too tired or otherwise preoccupied to notice. "Anyway... Did you sleep well?"

"I did." Kagami said, her tone pensive, "I really did."

Tsukasa was relieved for the conversations pivot, "Even though you hurt your toe?" "My toe?" Kagami asked quizzically, "What in the world are you talking about?"

Tsukasa was the confused one now, "Last night remember? I heard you scream... You said you stubbed your toe."

"Oh," Kagami slapped her forehead, her peach face slowly transitioning into a light blush, "Right... my toe. It's okay. It just hurt for a second, is all."

Kagami's body grew hot with embarrassment and anxiety. She was doing her own lying to Tsukasa, who she more or less told everything.

"You have plans today?" Tsukasa asked.

"Oh," Kagami snapped out of her worried gaze, "I'm meeting Misao at the shopping district, I called her up just a moment ago. Last-minute plans."

"Sounds... fun," Tsukasa said, a little sadness in her voice.

"I'd totally invite you," Kagami started, trying to figure out the best scenario to make up, "But she said she wanted some bonding time with just me and her so I figured it'd be inconsiderate to invite someone else."

Tsukasa smiled. "It's okay, sis! I don't know her all that well anyway. I'll find something to keep myself occupied."

Kagami smiled back. "Thanks for understanding. Have a good day okay?" "You too!" Tsukasa said waving to her sister And with that Kagami was gone to the shopping district to meet with Misao.

Tsukasa did mean what she said about not knowing Misao very well, as well as truthfully not taking offense that Kagami had not given her an invite. Kagami’s homeroom friends were very sweet girls, but time out with any of them would invariably lead to Tsukasa trying to fill any silences.

The only thing was...the alternative to tagging along with Kagami meant another silent day at home.

Mom and Dad had taken their customary summer trip together and were visiting some old friends in the United States. Tsukasa's older sisters Inori and Matsuri were gone for the weekend as they often were. Now, her friend-for-life twin Kagami had plans for the entire day. Tsukasa was alone, yet again.

Tsukasa knew she had people who cared for her, but she couldn't help but feel helplessly uncool on days like today.

Tsukasa briefly thought of maybe making plans with Miyuki-chan but dropped the idea almost immediately since anything she tried to plan herself never worked out. If only she had something to watch other than the same boring old TV stations.

Like some kind of new game show. Or a new manga. Or even better, one of the hundred of anime Kona-chan always promised to lend...

... to her.

"Hey!" She said out loud to herself, "I do have something to do today!"

She smiled to herself. Tsukasa was the simple type and didn't need much to be happy. One thing she couldn't stand, though, was to be bored. Now at least she had something she could watch and maybe read more about...

"Oh wow, that's gonna be so amazing!" She said again to herself in her empty home, letting out a girlish squeal.

Tsukasa heartily skipped down the hall to sis Kagami's room and let herself in without pause. Sis wouldn't mind if she just grabbed the DVD. No snooping involved, she silently reminded herself. (She contends that she can’t help how naturally curious she is) And anyway, she and Kagami knew each other better than anyone else.

Just as quickly as she had entered, Tsukasa had the DVD in hand and was in the hall walking back towards her room. She surveyed the disks readable side, it looked like a bootlegged copy. Lower quality than I would think a seasoned otaku like Kona-chan would own. This was supposed to be one of those age-defying anime... surely there was a high definition release.

Tsukasa reminded herself that Kona-chan was the professional on these things and that it was probably best to defer to her. Tsukasa had, after all, heard of the anime series called Eva******* for what seemed like her entire lifetime. Whatever this DVD had in-store for her, it was bound to be revolutionary in some way.

Tsukasa smiled and giggled to herself at the prospect of a circular DVD being both literally and figuratively revolutionary, she also felt proud for thinking of such a smart joke, "I gotta tell that one to Miyuki-chan."

-2-

Tsukasa entered her room, instinctively knowing exactly where her remote control was. She allowed the DVD to feed into the slot-loading DVD player built into her personal TV.

Tsukasa looked down a moment at her remote to make sure she knew where the skip and menu buttons were, but when she looked up there was already an image paused on the screen.

The freeze-frame was nothing too telling or even interesting. It simply looked like the small yard or garden of a house, with a small but noticeable percentage of the frame lowering in opacity as it faded to some other location.

This was most likely, she figured where Kagami had left off on her watching of this anime. Tsukasa also noted that the timeline for the disk was only 16 minutes started before her sister had stopped watching.

This didn’t surprise Tsukasa in the least, and she smirked to herself. Kona-chan had mentioned that this anime had mechs - giant robots - and Kagami hated such grandiose storytelling. The less realistic something was, the less she enjoyed it. Tsukasa often felt like this was a boring way to live and that as much as she loved her twin, that Kagami most certainly did not have a soft spot for whimsy like Tsukasa did.

Tsukasa plopped herself excitedly on the bean bag that sat directly in front of her TV, remote still in hand. For a moment she thought of watching from the beginning but how much could happen in 16 minutes, anyway?

She located the play button by short-term memory and continued the show as it transitioned to what seemed like another scene or plot point. Tsukasa bit her bottom lip in nerdy otaku anticipation and watched with purpose. Sometimes it was just as fun to jump in the middle of an anime instead of watching it from the beginning. Tsukasa, at least, felt she worked harder to connect the pieces when there were parts she had missed. It made the narrative that much more of a mystery.

This plot’s mystery crossfaded into a rather generic-looking Japanese bedroom where a young girl with long blue hair - just a shade or so darker than Tsukasa and Kagami’s light-purple hair. A baby-blue color and dull sheer adorned this character's head as she sat at her desk, feverishly studying.

She had not even changed out of her school uniform even though she appeared to be home.

Long Blue-Haired Girl's skin was pale. Her body was slender and fan-servicey - like most anime. Yes, everyone had perfect flat bellies and voluptuous hips, just like Tsukasa didn't. She hated the unrealistic standard as a young woman, but secretly kind of admired the body of an anime heroine. Realistically, Konata once said, who wouldn't?

From outside the sliding door of Long Blue-Haired Girl's room, a shadow could be seen approaching. Despite no mention yet on robots or fantasy story elements, Tsukasa felt entirely sucked into the narrative:

The silhouette suggested another girl of the same age, as the shape of the shadow seemed to perfectly contour to the same female school uniform. By the shadow, this girl had a much shorter pixie-style haircut.

“Rey-chan.” A timid voice said from behind the door, “I’m sorry to bother you, but may I come in?”

Rey tucked her blue hair behind her ear, feigning annoyance, “Yeah, yeah. You can come in, Asuki.”

Rey didn't even take her eyes off of the book as she waved in her guest. “I’m so sorry to bother you.” Asuki started...

“Oh don’t start that annoying crap. I just welcomed you. If you were a bother I wouldn’t have.” Rey said brusquely, her eyes still following along with her school textbook.

“Right.” Asuki took a bow of gratitude and came into view - revealing her piercing cerulean eyes and fire-red pixie hair, “I just wanted to take a moment today... and come say hi after class because something was on my mind...”

“I’ll save you the humility if you just want to start joining my cram sessions every day.” Rey said, her tone more than sure of her superior intellect, “I work and aggressive schedule but it teaches you the stuff you need.”

Asuki smirked to herself, the dialogue of the scene transitioned into an echoing self-monologue moment, “But there’s no way Rey is prepared for this kind of studying.”

“You can use the bed, I guess.” Rey waved again, "But don’t go dozing off I’ll kick you out faster

than...”

“Before we start, it’s important that you see something.” Asuki abruptly interrupted, bringing into the frame a Manila envelope from seemingly nowhere, and dropped it in front of Rey... directly on top of her current homework.

“Ya know Asuki, you’re really testing my.....” Rey's eyes fell to the familiar-looking border of a picture that had partially fallen out of the conveniently unsealed envelope.

“Those pics are golden,” Asuki said, her smirk now more apparent.

Rey inched her hand toward the picture, at first recognizing what was familiar in the first place. The lamp in this photo looked just like the one she had are her desk.

As she inched it further out of the folder and saw that the lamp was also resting on a nightstand that looked uncanny to her nightstand.

No, this was a photo of her room, and in the center of the picture, Rey's bare naked body stretched out on the center of the bed, nothing covering her as she teased her crotch, mid-way through performing a circular rubbing motion.

“If you don’t do exactly what I say, I’ll make sure everyone sees these photos.” Asuki whispered deviously, “But if you’re willing to make a deal..”

“Anything!” Rey said, tears welling in her eyes.

“It’s really not much.” Asuki said suavely, “All I want is your body.”

“My....” Rey repeated, “You mean, like do... stuff? Sexual stuff?”

“Or hey, if you’re not interested...” Asuki held up her hands in faux submission.

“No, I am! Take my body Asuki-chan! I can’t risk everything. My University prospects....my reputation.” She said, biting her thumb dramatically, “Damnit, I’m yours.”

“Then undress, right now” Asuki commanded. “Down to your unmentionables, please.”

“Whatever, you freakin perv.” Rey gave in, unbuttoning her uniforms white shirt and her breasts, encapsulated in a cut cotton bra. Rey swiftly unhooked her bra and let gravity take it, revealing her bare breast.

Tsukasa had been watching so intently, that it didn’t even occur to her immediately that she had never seen anything as explicit as this in her life - animated or not. But it was Rey's bare chest that first sent goosebumps up her spine.

Tsukasa let out a surprised moan as the goosebumps washed over her body. The split-ends of her purple hair began to rise as if coaxed with static - almost like a puffy cat tale.

“Oh, my...” Tsukasa whispered to herself, her body heat and breathing growing heavier, “This has to be wrong... Kona-chan must have made a mistake...”

On the screen, the two women had started to caress each other in passionate kissing and rubbing of their breasts.

Tsukasa seemed to lose control of her decision-making as she sat there awe-struck watching the explicit animation

She scooted her bean bag closer to the sexual images on her TV, spreading her legs to cool her lower regions.

She was feeling something new in that area that felt like part heat, part electricity, and made her giggle just thinking to focus on it.

Because she was still in her nightgown, the spreading of her legs exposed her white panties with a small blue bow, already showing telltale signs of a wet spot.

What in the world was this?

Tsukasa stared back at her TV. She was surprised this had escalated as fast as it did. She never really even thought to touch down there or...

On the TV, Asuki began to massage and suckle one of Rey's bare breasts.

Tsukasa's thought was that it looked like it felt really good. She felt a small zap of pleasure as her small breasts reacted to the arousal, her small nipples getting even harder.

Instinctively, she used her dominant left hand to cuff her right breast and squeezed. The same type of electricity, but this time the sensation came all the way back around to feeling.... painful?

“Ouch...” Tsukasa whisper-moaned, easing on the squeezing almost immediately. She wasn’t sure how she felt about this sensation. It reminded her of the time Konata kicked a Football toward her during a scrimmage game at school. She had meant to use her head to bump it, but instead, it hit her square in the center of the chest.

Because she wasn’t wearing a bra in Gym that day, Tsukasa's two small breasts hurt for the rest of the week. But that was pure pain, and Tsukasa couldn’t recall a millisecond of that ball-to-the-chest feeling good.

What she had just experienced was more of a reflex and... she was convinced if she simply eased off some pressure that it could feel really good. She was mostly caught off guard that this was happening, as well as how it was happening.

Tsukasa, the special type of girl to feel awkward even when she was the only one in the room, now felt awkward with her hands. She lay both arms at her sides, sinking deeper into the bean bag as she ensured her neck was supported enough to see the explicit scene on her television. From where her hands rested she could feel the warmth coming from her most private area... something wet? Something that had soaked up some wetness.

Tsukasa's left hand reached further down, gliding her fingers along to the most saturated area of wetness. And as her middle finger lightly glazed over her panty-covered slit, Tsukasa Hiiragi received her first burst of slight clitoral stimulation.

“Oh yeah...” Tsukasa moaned, her voice offering a louder coaching instructional, “Right there... that’s so amazing...” Tsukasa squeaked.

She continued to rub in a circular but rhythmic pattern.

"Haaaa..." Tsukasa moaned in pleasure to herself, "Haaah it feels so good when I massage the wet spot on my privates..."

Her small hands continued to slide up and down her wet spot, with pangs of pleasure hitting her as the material of her damp panties came into close contact with her clitoris. It was almost like an

autopilot mode. Her body knew what it wanted, even if Tsukasa couldn't bring herself to form the entire embarrassing thought.

Tsukasa rubbed faster over her panties as the pleasure increased. She was becoming much more privy to what felt good and when as she continued. Her clitoris was more engorged than it had been in the past, peaking out through the sides of her underwear. She began experimenting with a varying finger pressure in a chase for more of this mind-numbing tingle that felt so, so good.

She slowed her speed while trying her varying pressure, as she was pretty certain that she could tell where the well of pleasure truly was.

Tsukasa had more or less known from the start of this exercise just where she should start for a cavalcade of pleasure to shoot through her small body. After all - she might be naive and flighty, sometimes willingly so... but she wasn't stupid. She knew how the human body worked.

What she feared was that no one told her how bold and anxiety-inducing this new pleasure would feel. Then again, she thought, she had not thought to ask anyone in the past. While this felt undoubtedly amazing, the sensation was so sharp and nerve-raising that she wasn't sure what would happen if she tested her limits.

Would it feel better? How could it feel better? Right now, she worried that "any better" would result in her peeing herself instead of reaching a new plateau of pleasure.

Tsukasa was able to momentarily convince herself that in a worst-case scenario, she would be able to clean up anything that was to happen. But of course, a moment was all she needed, as within milliseconds of this thought - her fingers brushed over her body's most sensitive spot, still peeking out of the side of the panty.

Tsukasa let out a louder moan, "Oh, my god!" Tsukasa screamed to herself, "It feels so good when I rub my private place... my pussy... yeah..."

Tsukasa mentally thanked her lucky stars that she was home alone and could experience this without worrying about someone hearing her in another room.

She moaned and teased around her clit with her nails, daring herself to touch it more.

"I don't know..." She moaned helplessly to herself, "What's going to happen if I keep touching my pussy over my panties..."

It was then that Tsukasa allowed her smooth hand to glide beneath her undergarments. She could now feel with her bare skin how wet and sticky her private place had become. This was something she might have found more interesting to explore until her fingers found her naked clit, eagerly throbbing from under the natural hood.

"Oh God, Oh Godddddd!!!" Tsukasa trembled as pleasure tremors ran from her fingers, up her belly, and throughout the rest of her body.

"It's tingliiiing sooo much more now!" She screamed, instinctively rubbing her clit more and - to her surprise - inserting her finger into herself.

"Hahhhh!!" Tsukasa moaned, "My - my finger is sinking in..."

"Pleeease," Tsukasa commanded fiercely, pumping her finger in and out of her wet hole, "Morrreee"

She softly penetrated herself with her single finger another time, before adding the finger next to it.

Quickly and feverishly, with purpose, she used her two fingers to fuck herself as she rubbed them against her clit. She could feel her vaginal walls clasp around her fingers.

"My pussy... it's making dirty squirting sounds..." Tsukasa moaned, "The sound is... it's making me so horny...

She pumped her fingers in and out faster, and a little harder.

"Just a little longer, 'kay?" Tsukasa whispered to herself... To her private parts, as it turned out, "Somethings happening... please..."

She stopped fingering herself for a moment and returned to rubbing herself, this time rubbing her bare clit and her vision whiting out in pleasure.

"Oh that feels so amazing!" She screamed as she felt her entire small body convulse, her small breasts jiggling as she shook uncontrollably, about to experience her first orgasm.

"I want more! Please do it more! Haaah!" Tsukasa moaned, "Onee-chan! Fuck my pussy onee- chaaaaan!"

Tsukasa screamed higher than she had in her entire life as the orgasm washed over her entire body and her fingers and hand became soaked in her vaginal juices. Her pelvis thrust into her fingers as they entered and exited her body a few more times during the end of this confusingly pleasurable experience.

Her pussy was so sensitive, she though her fingers massaging her insides would make her go crazy as she continued to moan, for almost a full minute feeling out her orgasm and letting herself sink into it.

What in the world was she going to do? Normal life couldn't continue after a discovery like this, could it?

Would she become obsessed with this? With pleasuring herself? With sex?

And why in the world did she scream 'onee-chan' as she was having an orgasm?

And did Konata leave her that dirty DVD on purpose?

Tsukasa didn't even know where to begin with this.

...

Her skinny legs still weak, Tsukasa used her left hand to push her body up, slightly wobbling as she stood over her bean bag, where her panties now lay along with a telltale wet spot.

To begin with, she needed a towel. Then, she would go find Konata. But there was no denying that it had felt good.

"Yeah," Tsukasa said out loud, agreeing with herself, "It felt really, really good."

#anime #lucky star #lemon #female mastrubution #female homosexuality #female friendship #protagonist female #relationships #tsukasa hiiragi #female ejaculation

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spamzineglasgow · 4 years

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(REVIEW) All The Poems Contained Within Will Mean Everything To Everyone, by Joe Dunthorne

Is it fiction, is it poetry, is it truth — what are the rules here? Kirsty Dunlop tackles the difficult, yet illustrious art of the poet bio in this review of Joe Dunthorne’s All The Poems Contained Within Will Mean Everything To Everyone (Rough Trade Editions, 2018).

Whenever I read a poetry anthology - I hope I’m not the only one - I go to the bios at the back before I read the poems…it’s also a really strange thing when you publish a poem…you brag about yourself in a text that is supposed to sound distant and academic but is actually you carefully calculating how you’ll present yourself.

> It’s the middle of a night in 2019 and I’m listening to a podcast recording from Rough Trade Editions’ first birthday party at the London Review Bookshop, and this is Dunthorne’s intro to the reading from his pamphlet All The Poems Contained Within Will Mean Everything To Everyone (2018). As I lie there in that strange limbo space of my own insomnia, Dunthorne’s side-note to his work feels comfortingly intimate because it rings so true (the kind of thing you might admit to a friend over a drink after a poetry reading rather than in the performative space of the reading itself). Like Joe, and yes surely many others, I am also fascinated by bios - particularly because I find them so awkward to write/it makes me cringe writing my own/this is definitely the kind of thing you overthink late at night. Bios also function as this alternative narrative on the margins of the central creative work and they do tell a story: take any bio out of context and it can be read as a piece of flash fiction. When we are asked to write bios, there is this unspoken expectation that we follow certain rules in our use of language, tone and content. Side note: how weird would it be if we actually spoke about ourselves in this pompous third person perspective irl?! Bios themselves are limbo spaces (another kind of side note!) where there is much left unsaid and often the unsaid and the little that is said reveals a lot. Of course, some bios are also very, very long. Dunthorne’s pamphlet plays with this limbo space as a site of narrative and poetic potential: prior to All The Poems, I had never read a short story actually written through the framework of a list of poet bios. The result is an incredibly funny, honest and playful piece of meta poetic prose that teases out all the subtle aspects of the poet bio-sphere and ever since that first listen, I can’t stop myself re-reading.

> This work is an exciting example of how formal constraints in writing can actually create an exhilarating sense of narrative liberation. I see this really playful, fluid Oulipo quality to the writing, where the process of using the bio as constraint is what makes the rollercoaster reading experience so satisfying as well as revealing a theatrical stage for language to have its fun, where the reality of our own calculated self performance can be teased out bio by bio. The re-reading opens up a new level of comedy each time often at the level of wordplay. I’ll maybe reveal some more of that in a wee bit.

> It’s a winding road that Dunthorne takes us on in his narrative journey where the micro and the macro continually fall inside each other. So perhaps this review will also be quite winding. Here is another entry into the text: we begin reading about the protagonist Adam Lorral from the opening sentence, who we realise fairly quickly is struggling to put together a ground-breaking landmark poetry anthology. His bio crops up repeatedly in varying forms:

‘Adam Lorral, born 1985 is a playwright, translator and the editor-publisher of this anthology.’

‘Adam Lorral is a playwright, translator and the man who, morning after morning, stood barefoot on his front doorstep […]’

‘Adam Lorral is a playwright, translator and someone for whom the date Monday, October 14th, 2017 has enormous meaning. Firstly Adam’s son started smiling.’

The driving circularity of this repetition pushes the narrative onwards, whilst the language is never bogged down: it hopscotches along and we can’t help but join in the game. Amidst a growing list of other characters/poets- that Adam may or may not include in this collection he seems to be pouring/ draining his energy into, with just a little help from his wife’s family money- tension begins to build.

> Although Adam is overtly the protagonist in the story, to my mind it is, in fact, Adam’s four-week-old son who is the real heroic figure. Of course this baby doesn’t have a bio of his own but he does continually creep into Adam’s (he’s another side note!). He comes off as the only genuine character: there is no performance, no judgement, he just is. Adam is continually amazed by his son’s mental and physical development which is far more impressive than the growth of this questionable anthology. The baby is this god-like figure, continually present during Adam’s struggles, with the seemingly small moments of its development taking on monumental significance. Adam might try to immerse himself fully in this creative work but the reality of his family surroundings will constantly interrupt. This self-deprecating, reflective tone led me to think about how Dunthorne expansively explores the idea of the contemporary poet and artist identity through metanarrative. In Ben Lerner’s The Hatred of Poetry (Fitzcarraldo Editions, 2016), he writes ‘There is embarrassment for the poet – couldn’t you get a real job and put your childish ways behind you?’ In a recent online interview with the poet Will Harris[1], when asked about his own development as a writer, he spoke about how the career trajectory of a poet is a confusing phenomenon and I’ve heard many other poets speak of this too: there are perhaps milestones to pass but they are not rigid or obvious and, of course, they are set apart from the milestones of more ‘adult’, professional pursuits. I think Dunthorne’s short story accurately captures this confusion around artistic, personal and intellectual growth and the navigation of the poetry community, through these minute, telling observations and the rejection of a simplistic narrative linearity. The story doesn’t make any hard or fast judgements: like the character of the baby, the observations just are. Sometimes, it feels like this project could be one of the most important aspects of Adam’s life (it might even make or break it) and we are there with him and at other moments it seems quite irrelevant to the bigger picture, particularly as the bios get more ridiculous. Here, I just have to highlight one of the bios which perfectly evokes this heightened sense of a poet’s importance:

Peter Daniels’ seventh collection The Animatronic Tyrannosaurus of Guadalajara, is forthcoming with Welt Press. He will not let anyone forget that he edited Unpersoned, a prize-winning book of creative transcriptions of immigration interviews obtained by the Freedom of Information Act, even though it was published nearly two decades ago. His poetry has been overlooked for all previous generational anthologies and it is only thanks to the fine-tuned sensibilities of this book’s editor that has he finally become one of the chosen. You would expect him to be grateful.

> Okay…so I said above that there weren’t hard or fast judgements; maybe I should retract that slightly. The text definitely doesn’t feel like a cruel critique of poets generally (its comedy is too clever for that) but, yes, there are a fair few judgements from Adam creeping into those bios. I am so impressed with the way in which Dunthorne is able to expertly navigate Adam’s perspective through all these fragments to create this growing humour, as the character can’t help inserting his own opinions into other poets’ bios. Of course, we are also able to make our own judgements about Adam and his endearing naivety: shout out here to my fave character in the story, Joy Goold (‘exhilaratingly Scottish’) who has submitted the poem, Fake Lake, to the anthology. Hopefully if you’re Scottish, you can appreciate the comedy of this title. Adam Googles her and cannot find any trace of her, which feels perfect…almost too good to be true.

> Dunthorne plays with cliché overtly throughout the text. You could say all the poets in this story are exaggerated clichés but that certainly doesn’t make them boring: it just adds to the knowing intimacy that, yes, feels slightly gossipy (which I can’t help but enjoy). For example, there is the poet who has:

[…] won every major UK poetry prize and long ago dispensed with modesty […] Though he does not need the money he teaches on the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. His latest collection is Internal Flight (Faber/FSG). He divides his time between London and New York because they are both lovely.

I am leaving out a fair bit of this bio because I don’t want to take away some of the joy of simply reading this text in its entirety but it is one of many tongue-in-cheek observations that feels very accurate and over-the-top at the same time (I feel like everyone in the poetry community knows this person). It is also even more knowing when you consider that Dunthorne actually has published a collection with Faber, O Positive (2019), a totally immersive read that also doesn’t shy away from poking fun at its speaker throughout. I always like seeing the ideas that repeatedly crop up in a writer’s work and explorations of calculation and cliché are at the forefront of this collection. I keep thinking of this line from the poem ‘Workshop Dream’:

We stepped onto the beach. The water made the sound: cliché, cliché, cliché.

Interestingly, there is this hypnotising dream-like quality to O Positive - with shape shifting figures, balloonists, owls-in-law – in contrast to the hyper realism I experienced in the Rough Trade pamphlet. However, like All the Poems, in O Positive, we’re always one step inside the writing, one step outside, watching the poem/short story being written. It’s this continual sensation of being very close to failure and embarrassment/cringe. (I can also draw parallels here between Dunthorne’s exploration of this theme and the poet Colin Herd who speaks so brilliantly about the relation between poetry and embarrassment- see our SPAM interview.) Failure is just inevitable in this narrative set up. It makes the turning point of the narrative- when it arrives- all the funnier:

As Adam typed, he hummed the chorus to the Avril Lavigne song–why d’you have to go and make things so complicated?–and smiled to himself because he was keeping things simple. Avril Lavigne. Adam Lorral. Their names were a bit similar. He was looking for a sign and here one was.

> If it isn’t clear already, this is a story that I could continually quote from but to truly appreciate the work, you should read it in its beautiful slim pamphlet format created by Rough Trade Editions. For me, the presentation of this work is as important as the form: this story would have a different effect and tone if it was nestled inside a short story collection. I think a lot of the most exciting creative writing right now is being published by the innovative small indie presses springing up around the UK. Recently I listened to a great podcast by Influx Press, featuring the writer Isabel Waidner: they spoke about both the value of small presses taking risks with writers and the importance of recognising prose as an experimental field, rightly recognising that experimental work often seems to begin with, or be connected to, the poetry community. Waidner’s observation felt like something I had been waiting to hear…and a change that I had noticed in writing being published in the last few years in the UK. I could mention so many examples alongside the work of Rough Trade Books: Waidners’s We are Made of Diamond Stuff (2019), published by Manchester-based Dostoyevsky Wannabe, Eley William’s brilliant Attrib. and Other Stories (Influx Press, 2017), the many exciting hybrid works put out by Prototype Publishing, to name just a few. There is also a growing interest in multimedia work, for example Visual Editions, who publish texts designed to be read on your phone through their series Editions at Play (Joe Dunthorne did a brilliant digital-born collaborative text with Sam Riviere in 2016, The Truth About Cats & Dogs, I would highly recommend!). But this concept of combining the short story with a pamphlet format, created by Rough Trade Books as part of their Rough Trade Editions’ twelve pamphlet series, feels particularly exciting to me and is a reminder of why I love the expansive possibilities of shorter prose pieces. Through its physical format, we are reminded that this is a prose work you can read like a series of poems without losing the narrative tension that is so central to fiction. The expansiveness of the reading possibilities of Dunthorne’s short story also reminds me of Lydia Davis’s short-short stories. Here’s one I love taken from The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis (Penguin Books, 2009):

They take turns using a word they like

“It’s extraordinary,” says one woman. “It is extraordinary,” says the other.

You could read this as a sound bite, an extract from an article, a writing exercise or a short story, the possibilities go on; there is a space created for the reader and consequently it encourages the unravelling of re-reading (which feels like a very poetic mode to me). Like Davis, Dunthorne’s work also highlights how seemingly simple language can be very powerful and take on many subtle faces and tones. I think short forms are so difficult to get right but when you encounter all the elements of language, tone, pacing, style, space, tension brought together effectively (or calculatingly as Dunthorne might say), it can create this immersive, highly intimate back-and-forth play with the reader.

> All The Poems Contained Within Will Mean Everything to Everyone. The title tells us there is a collection of poems here that are hidden: the central work has disappeared leaving behind the shadowy remains of the editor’s frustration and the marginalia of the bios. We feel the presence of the poems despite not actually reading them. The pamphlet’s blurb states that this: ‘is the story of the epiphanies that come with extreme tiredness; that maybe, just maybe the greatest poetry book of all is one that contains no poems.’ The narrative, as well as making fun of itself, also recognises that poetry exists beyond the containment of the poems themselves: it can be found in the readings, the performances, the politics, the drafts, the difficulties, the funding, the collaboration, the collectivity, the bios.

> A friend of mine recently asked me: Where are all the prose parties?…And what might a prose party look like? We were chatting about how a poetry party sounds much cooler (that’s maybe why there’s more of them). I think prose is often aligned with more conventional literary forms, maybe closed off in a way that poetry is seen to be able to liberate, but I think Dunthorne breaks down these preconceptions and binaries around form and modes of reading in All The Poems. I want to be at whatever prose party he’s throwing.

[1] University of Glasgow’s Creative Conversations, Sophie Collins interviewing Will Harris, Monday 4th May 2020 (via Zoom)

Text: Kirsty Dunlop Published: 10/7/20

#review #reviews #Rough Trade Books #Joe Dunthorne #Kirsty Dunlop #poetry #poet bios

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aleapoffaithfiction · 5 years

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VIII.

“And you? You my destiny.” - Shyne

“More wine Mr. Marshall?”

Whether you’re from New York City or not, we’ve all in some way, shape, or manner ogled over the renowned skyline and created our own fantasies of everything that it is supposed to represent. Whether we’ve fed into the brutalizing gangster narrative painted in The Godfather or tried to figure out life and love along with the famous four in Sex and The City, it’s meaningful and will always represent either a new beginning or the backdrop of your wildest journeys and dreams. Tonight, as I’m in the midst of its beauty, it’s serving as a testament to either a potential new beginning or a distaste of some sort. I’ve been too focused on the soothing waves lightly rolling along the Hudson River and the patrons dinning around me to be able to figure out which predicament I’m actually in.

“Bring the bottle.” As my lips curved, my eyes panned over to the barely touched glass on my side of the table and they eventually landed on him. I’m assuming that was supposed to impress me and it might of if we were a bit more acquainted with one another. I’ve never been cozy with overindulging with any type of alcoholic beverages while on a date, because I need to be of sound, mind, and body in order to properly comprehend body language and most of all, the dialog between myself and the person I’ve chosen to go out with. Even with this so-called history that Quinton believes we have with one another, I still don’t trust him enough to expose my comfort zone with him. He’s not Taylor.

The River Café. It’s uniquely right under the Brooklyn Bridge and literally over the river. I’ve heard more than enough people rave about it for it to be in contention as one of the elite restaurants in borough and there’s no hiding the reality that it is also one of the most expensive places to have a bite to eat. Its romantic ambiance sets the mood with the dim lighting and panoramic views but in my opinion Dom Salvador, the Brazilian samba funk innovator, is the true main attraction. I’ve found myself nodding my head and occasionally snapping my fingers along to many of the tunes the celebrated pianist played since we’ve arrived. Quinton deserves credit for taking my stomping ground suggestion into consideration. Being in Brooklyn is a reminder of where we’ve come from, but sitting in this stunning restaurant in the heart of Dumbo, is a testament of how far we’ve come. Touché.

“How is your fish?” I chose the black sea bass as my main course. There was something about it being sautéed with lobster brown butter that attracted me to it over everything else. It was served with grilled artichoke ravioli and fresh artichoke. It’s pretty good, I can admit. The gnocchi I had for an appetizer may have been slightly better, but I’m not complaining. Quinton began his dining experience with an ounce of caviar that immediately cost him a hundred and eighty bucks. Caviar tastes like shit, so I wanted no parts of that.

“It’s really good. I’m enjoying it. And your steak?”

“It’s decent. I’ve had better.” I didn’t expect him to show up in a suit, but he did, in politician blue. In that field, your head can never leave the game. Who’s to say that he won’t run into some multimillionaire that he may need some campaign contributions from or maybe he’ll shake hands and kiss babies with a few supporters before we call it a night.

“Have you eaten here before?”

“Once before. It was a business dinner.”

“It’s my first time here. I’ve heard about it, but I never kept it in the back of my mind to come. I’m impressed for the most part. The location is literally perfect.” That it is. I can even say hello to our France gifted Statue of Liberty from here.

“It is right?”

“Absolutely.”

“So, let me ask you this. Why sports?”

“Why not sports? Don’t get me wrong, the sports industry within itself has a lot of bullshit within it but what industry doesn’t? You just have to learn how to move amongst the vultures. Overall, I don’t think a lot people realize how sports are one of the primary aspects of life that brings people together. When you step into those arenas, stadiums, or fields, you see people of all ethnic backgrounds sitting together, uniformly, and basking in the moment. Sports drive our emotions, serve as our conversation starters and endings, are reasons for our road trips, and bring tradition within our families. They began lifelong friendships, cure pain, and have served as a shift within this country and many others for centuries. I fell in love with them. They’re what thrilled me ever since I was a child and I had a parent who advocated for that.” I’ve gotten that question a lot; sometimes in a sexiest manner and on occasion, out of genuine interest. I’d like to think it’s what I was meant to do. I have a high regard for our nation’s doctors, lawyers, business people, artists, and everything else, but I’ve never had a passion to be anything else other than who and what I am right now.

“I don’t know. I’ve always thought you’d end up being an actress or some type of model.” Should I be insulted by that? I don’t know. “Why?”

“Of course, you’re beautiful, but you’ve also always been great at speaking and being expressive.”

“So, then we can attribute that as to why I’m so good at my job now. Why politics?”

“It wasn’t always my passion. Initially, I wanted to be a forensic scientist. Well, now that I think about it, I guess I always wanted to be involved with the justice process in some aspect. I’d like to think that’s what politics is but just in a much grander fashion.”

“Justice? So that’s all you’re in it for? The justice aspect of things?” I find that hard to believe. Sure, politicians have power but, in my opinion, it’s typically for all of the wrong reasons when it comes to most of them. I’ll give credit when it is due to those who actually do bring about the shifts in culture, growth, and renewal that they speak of but other than that, I’ve never been drawn to anything about it. I’m no American flag waving, super patriotic chick. Most would say I’m living the modernized American dream since I have no husband or children within my home seemingly by choice, but what the hell is the American dream anyway? What makes it the ultimate goal?

“I’d be liar if I said that is the only thing on my mind. I do want to make a difference, but not only within this city, but also within this country. For me, that’s a duty much like it is for a military officer who willingly signs up to protect and serve, but politics comes with networking unlike any other and that’s the type of networking that I need so that I can continue to take not only myself but also my businesses to new horizons.”

“I see.”

“You sound displeased.” His soft chuckle followed the sound of his fork hitting the plate. He then took a sip of his wine and leaned in to get a better glimpse at my facial expression.

“I’m not displeased. I can’t or won’t knock your hustle.”

“My hustle?”

“Everyone has a hustle.”

“This is true. I haven’t heard that word in quite a while but we know it well, being from here and all. Let me ask you this about your hustle Sarai. We all know and see how well you’ve done for yourself. We’ve applauded it and continue to do so. But is that it? All that you want to do with that powerful voice of yours is use it for sports? You only want to lend your voice to analyze, occasionally critique, and celebrate a bunch of pompous athletes who will never do the same for you in return?” This man has a lot of nerve.

“I lend my voice to what moves the world no matter what is going on. As I said, sports are a vital part of the culture of not only this country, but the entire world. People turn on their televisions every day, tune in through mobile devices, tablets, and whatever the hell else, just to be able to hear what I have to say. Those pompous athletes you speak of approach me whenever they’re able to catch me out somewhere and they either thank me or humbly admit they can understand why I critiqued something they did. I have no problem lending my voice to them, because they’re ordinary people with once in a lifetime talent, who live their lives under microscopes of misjudgment and scrutiny. As a politician, shouldn’t you understand that? Aren’t you supposed to be a voice for the people?”

“Yes, for the people.”

“And they’re people just like anyone else is.”

“I see bigger things for you. I always have. Why do you think I’ve been so adamant about us having a moment like this? It’s not only because I’ve always been attracted to you and interesting in having something more, but also because I want you with me during this journey. I believe that we can really get out there and make a real difference within this world. The Obamas were just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to black faces like ours being in positions of power. I don’t want what Barack accomplished to be a one and done because that’s what these white motherfuckers are working their hardest to make sure of. No one’s pushing back enough as far as I’m concerned but I’m going to be the one to do so.”

“You just said that you saw me becoming an actress or a model and now all of a sudden, I’m Michelle Obama’s successor? That’s funny. Ultimately, I’d like to believe we’re both already making a difference. No?”

“We are, but we’re just in the early stages of it. We’re still gold fish in a world full of sharks. You want to get ahead in this world? Not only do you have to be a shark too, but in our case, we have to be the sharpest ones because we don’t get to slide by with mediocrity like the others do.”

“I agree with that in some aspects.”

“Sarai, I don’t want to do this alone and this country prides itself on the foundation of family. I need a family. I can’t continue running for these higher offices without a wife by my side and eventually, a couple of children too.”

“You just said Sarai I don’t want to do this alone, and then you went on to explain all of the political reasons why you need me. What am I supposed to be? A prop? I’m not into politics. I’m a Democrat by default and it’s only because it’s the lesser of two evils. That’s all I have in that department and as far as I’m concerned, I’m fine with it. In addition to that, is that what our foundation is supposed to be? You’d be sliding a ring on my finger, when? Tonight? Next week? Maybe a month or two from now? And it’ll all be for the sake of you continuing to catapult your political career? Excuse my French, but you must be out of your fucking mind Quinton.” The octaves within our voices hadn’t shifted whatsoever and if anyone were closely observing us, you’d think we were two people gleefully enjoying one another over a candlelit dinner and yet the reality is, propositions are being laid out on the table and underhanded insults were being slipped in somewhere in between them.

“Your mother said you would say that.”

“My mother? You spoke with my mother about this? Oh yeah, you are the idiot that I’ve always thought you were.”

“An idiot? So, you’re calling me an idiot for having yearned for you for all of these years while you deliberately ignored me? I’m an idiot for ignoring the advances of women of many different statures all for the sake of having Sarai Nazaire, the around the way girl, as my wife?” I nearly spit out the wine swirling around in my mouth onto the table in response to the manner in which he said my name. He’d said it like I was some damsel in distress who needed his rescuing.

“Are you blaming me for decisions that you made on your own accord? You chose to ignore those women. You could have done whatever you liked. Also, I wasn’t ignoring you. I had a lot going on and I wasn’t in a place to nurture a relationship.”

“But you were in enough of a place to be with Shamel?”

“I didn’t do much nurturing of that.” And neither did he. I tried. If no one will give me credit for it, I certainly will give it to myself. I tried to be a lot of things for that man but from his perspective I came up short in every category. There wasn’t a single aspect of me that he believed to be more than or even just enough for him.

“And even with our history, there isn’t anything about you and I that makes sense?”

“What history? Are you speaking of our friendship or the one time we slept together? I hope for the sake of us walking away from this table with somewhat of a decent connection to one another, that you’re speaking about our friendship.”

“I’m speaking about everything; everything that happened and everything that you resisted. You’ve never given me a chance.”

“What do you think I’m doing right now? Why do you think I’m sitting here? I’m trying to give you a chance and yet you’re sitting there propositioning me instead of courting me. Am I supposed to be flattered?”

“I am courting you. I want to court you. I’m not trying to jump into all of this as quickly as you assume. I’m simply letting you know my intentions. I don’t want to date you just for the sake of dating. I want us to work towards having a future together.”

“How can I feel good about hearing something like that when I know that it comes with a motive?” If he and I were to choose to move forward after this date tonight, I’d know that there may possibly be only a small portion of our union that has some authenticity to it.

I’ve never considered myself to be the hopeless romantic type of woman who idly sits around waiting for my prince charming to show up at my door in shining armor and sweep me off of my feet. I don’t even know what I want or need out of love. Far more than anything else, I believe that aspect of life is the most complex and it doesn’t seem to have the patience for me, and that’s alright I suppose because the feeling is sort of mutual.

Even in admitting that, I can’t fake it until we make it with Quinton. I’m not capable of smiling until my cheeks feel like they’re going to shatter, while I pageant wave at crowds of people as a figure within his enormous shadow. We’d eventually become something more corrupt than Watergate and more scandalous than Clinton and Monica Lewinsky. We’d unravel in a manner that this country has never seen a First Couple ever do before. He’s barely tolerating my resistance now, so imagine the reaction he’d have to it once his ego is unbearably and uncontrollably colossal.

“With the places that we’re at within our lives, everyone who we encounter that shows interest will have some sort of a motive.” I, too, have had thoughts that mirrored his. I’ve observed women toss out all of their integrity for a chance encounter with someone prominent and affluent enough to raise their stature within society.

I’ve had men offer to buy me a drink at bars just to be able to speak about their glory days as a high school athlete while noticeably slipping in desires that they believe I can help them with. There are family members who I’ve probably only spoken to once or twice since my birth who have given odd interviews to tabloids for a few bucks about aspects of my life they know nothing about. So, while his statement holds its truths, how can I ever live comfortably if I believe anyone who I encounter has it out for me?

“Well Mr. Politician, let that be so. I won’t applaud you because you’ve made your motive known, but I will politely decline your offer. You’re not a bad guy Quinton. You’re just not my guy. I don’t know who that is or where he’ll come from, but I’d rather wait a lifetime for a man that I’m going to actually have undeniable chemistry with rather than force something for the sake of political bliss. You’re asking me to sacrifice everything about who I am and what I stand for, for you. I’d never ask that of you or anyone else. As you said, there are women out here who would love to be on your arm. Stop turning them down and open yourself up to finding the one for you. Do that for yourself, because this is a cold world and I’d hate for you to have to lay next to someone at night who you don’t even love because you want to sit in the highest office in this country. It’s not worth it, at least for me it isn’t.”

While staring at him, I raised my arm to move one of my tight curls out of my face. Suddenly, my lips rose into a grin that quickly erupted into a giggle. The morning I woke up against Beckham’s chiseled chest with his arms tightly wrapped around my body, he joked about my hair being in his mouth at one point while we slept. As we lay there, he switched my name during every sentence that spilled from his rose toned lips. I was Diana Ross, Donna Summers, and Chaka Khan. He even joked that if I’m going to keep my hair like this, then I’d have to put on one of those bonnets that black mothers wear outside to embarrass their kids. I hadn’t laughed so hard since the last time we were together. It seems like all of my laughter comes from him being around him these days.

“You’ve made your choice. I guess I have to live with that.” He grabbed the bottle of wine off of the table and refilled his glass to the edges of the brim. He then tightly gulped it down while my eyes washed over the motion of his Adam’s apple. The tension radiating from his frame snatched what was left of my appetite. We certainly don’t have to bother with dessert.

“You’ll be living with a choice that’s what’s best for both you and I. You don’t want me. I’m sure if I allowed it, you’d climb into bed with me tonight, but anything more? It’s not realistic. I’ve never felt wanted by you and you’ve never felt that from me. We both deserve more. If you don’t believe so, then I do. I deserve someone who looks at me like I was born to be his. I’d prefer to be with a man who indisputably wants me and only me.”

“Well I hope you find that, Sarai.”

“I’m not looking for it. If it comes my way, then that’s amazing. If not, I’ll be alright.”

Silence fell between us and once again, my eyes were gazing out at the striking scenery surrounding the restaurant. As fucked up as it sounds, this would have been a beyond perfect date if that unknown man that I speak of were sitting across from me tonight. Instead of tension, there’d be flirtatious giggles and glances of affection. My heel clad feet would be intentionally grazing against his calves to entice him just as much as he’d be doing to me simply by existing.

While speaking, my ears would be listening to anything he chose to say while my eyes would be reading the clear message of him having every intention to have me gripping the sheets and crying out his name in our bedroom, within his. Not being able to take it anyone, we’d call for the check with half eaten plates in front of us and would waltz off into the night with a care or concern about anything or anyone other than one another. In a perfect world, that’s how things would be, but this world isn’t perfect and neither am I.

“Check please.” I guess he wants to get out of here just as bad as I do.

“Quinton, I’m going to go. I can cover this if you’d like.” I ruined his night. It’s the least that I can do, right?

“There’s no need for you to do that. You’re here by the way of my invitation. I have it under control. Enjoy the rest of your night.” Everything about his tone reeked of dismissiveness and yet I’m unbothered. I get it.

“I’ll see you around, okay? We usually catch one another at church from time to time.”

“I suppose so.”

Upon my arrival to the restaurant, we greeted one another with a huge hug and yet as I’m making my exit a few minutes short of an hour and a half later, I can feel his cold glare following my every move. I insisted that we meet here instead of allowing him to come and pick me up from my place. I’m not comfortable with too many people knowing where I rest my head at night. I know him well enough to know he’d surprisingly pop up at my door and that would easily leave a bad taste in my mouth, so I saved him the future embarrassment and myself the annoyance. With the way this evening ended, my driving here was clearly God being on my side.

Though the night was barely young, boredom coerced me into cruising around Brooklyn for the hell of it. It was my favorite past time in my hooptie Honda Civic during those summers when I’d be on break from college and had time to spare after putting in the necessary hours for whatever internship I was working for that particular summer. There’s something about it that makes me feel close to my father. I’d turn corners on familiar blocks and those great memories of the two of us taking this borough by a storm would come to the forefront of my thoughts. I’d remember the conversations we’d have with him endlessly dropping knowledge for me to carry with me on life’s journeys and the constant words of reassurance so that I’d always know how proud of me he was. We’d playfully debate about who is greater between Michael Jordan and Magic Johnson, why the Fresh Prince of Bel Air is better than the Cosby Show, and why Allen Iverson will never be my husband. In his neighborly manner, he’d speak to everyone sitting out on their porches and would even buy ice cream for whatever kids were outside if the Mister Softie truck was around. Though my mother would scold him for spending so carelessly, he did it anyway.

It’s cold now. The sidewalks don’t have girls jumping double-dutch, boys aren’t riding by on their bikes, nor are people sitting out on their porches scoping the scene and gossiping about what’s hot on the block. Those memories aren’t coming to me either. Instead, my mind is consumed with something or rather someone else. It’s funny how that works; do you call it a crush or infatuation? Interest or just simple attraction? I don’t know how to define it but this is the first time I’m learning just how out of control our emotions can be.

On the surface, you can put on a performance like you have it all together and absolutely nothing can faze you, but internally? There’s this train wreck on an endless loop. This doesn’t feel like a train wreck though. Instead, there are flutters within the core of my body. Chills trickle up my arms and onto the napes of my neck, and trigger goosebumps that linger around enough to unnerve me. My toes curl, chest tightens, and taking breaths becomes a task to focus on. My duties and concerns for those beyond myself now includes an additional person. How has it come to a point of me not wanting to fail him? How did I get here?

I don’t know how to navigate any of this. I’m a small fish taken out of a pond and thrown into an ocean of the unknown. What now? Do a swim and explore what may be one of the most beautiful experiences of my life? Do I stay right there in the one place I landed and resist learning or exploring everything out of fear? Do I hopelessly swim and end up getting viciously eaten up by something that is beyond me? Shamel was easy, frustrating as fuck, but easy nonetheless. Easy became toxic but in the midst of that, I never had to think this much. We just co-existed. I fear the expectations. I may not live up to the fantasy style of hype that circulates about me.

Just as Quinton had mentioned, I’m the cool around the way girl who can carry a conversation with the dudes probably even better than I can with the chicks. I’ve seen men on social media deem me to be the type of wife who can make the platter of hot wings and then come and flop down on the couch to watch the NBA Finals with my man. It’s possible, but I’m so much more than that. I have my baggage and bullshit with me too. Is that okay? When the make-up is off, my hair is up in the sloppiest ponytail ever, and a t-shirt three times my size with some socks and Nike slippers are covering my body, will I still be the fantasy? When I’m nagging about something that’s irritating me, having one of those days when I don’t want to be bothered with anyone or anything, or having some sort of a mood swing because Mother Nature is running her monthly course, will everything still be all good? I don’t know.

“Oh, fuck you Fantasia. Fuck you.” I’d been letting Apple Music do its thing by allowing my own playlists to flourish while I drive. Having the formatting on shuffle made the transition from Biggie’s “I Got A Story to Tell” to Fantasia’s “When I See You” completely catch me off guard. I’d quickly gone from being lost in my thoughts to listening to Fantasia sing them.

“Screw that.”

I switched to a playlist filled with the Best of The Bad Boy Records Era. I kept the sappy and moody vibe, with just the right amount of Hip-Hop added in for the drive back into Jersey. I saw my home in my rearview mirror as I slowly drove past it. Though I should have parked in my garage and called it a night, my hands remained attached to the steering wheel and my foot pressed on the gas to continue the journey to the person and place invading and conquering my every thought. In one of our many conversations we’ve had, we discussed how many cars he owns and all three of them were very much parked in their usual spots, but the additional cars were a warning that he had company in the house. Somehow, in the back of my mind, I knew that he did, and yet I’ve come here anyway.

I remained unnoticeably parked in his cobblestone driveway for minutes in an attempt to gather my thoughts. It feels like I’m the one who’s pursuing him nowadays. I’m the one in an odd chase.

Hey. Are you busy?

Seconds later, the bubble appeared at the bottom of the screen.

No. What’s up?

I’m not sure what vibe he’s giving. There’s something about that reply that seems short or rather standoffish.

I’m in your driveway.

And looking desperate as hell while at it.

Come in the house. I’ll have someone unlock the door.

I’d be uncomfortable and fearful of what could or would go behind the walls of his home. One innocent slip up with the wrong person could easily cause a world of trouble for me more so than him.

You think maybe you can come outside?

What am I thinking? The man is on crutches. That wouldn’t be fair.

Never mind. I know you have company and I don’t want to disrupt. I’ll just come by tomorrow.

It’s what I should have done in the first place.

Give me five minutes. I’ll come outside.

It was less than five minutes. Despite the crisp cold air, he crutched himself out of the door in a pair of Nike shorts and a hoodie. There was one Virgil Abloh designed Jordan I on his one foot and of course his protective boot on the other. I suppose the beanie hat covering his blonde curls is what is supposed to serve as his protective barrier from the chill. Once he opened up the passenger side door, he tossed his crutches into the back, and carefully slid into the front seat. For the sake of comforting his ankle, he used the side panel on the bottom of the seat to adjust it further back from the normal position it’s usually in.

“Sarai. What’s up?” He finally closed the door and I couldn’t be any more thankful. The fall air was beginning to win against the low heat I had going in the car.

“Nothing major. How are you?” His large hands reached up to readjust his hat as he responded with a shrug.

“Chillin’. Nothing major for me either. I went back home to Louisiana for a couple of days. That was cool.”

“That’s good. I’m sure it was good to get a change of scenery since the injury has had you so cooped up in the house.”

“Yeah, it was a nice little visit. I got to kick it with my brothers and my sister. We even did a family dinner and both my momma and my pops were there. That shit rarely happens these days, so, I’m pleased with how it all turned out.”  “Did you visit LSU?”

“Not this time. I’m going to visit later on in the month. I’m designing an exclusive Air Force I with Nike and I plan on giving the whole team pairs. So, while I’m down there, I’ll probably kick it at a game.”

“That’s dope. I’m sure they’re going to appreciate that coming from you. Not only are you a hometown hero, but you’ve certainly cemented your legendary status within the LSU history books.”

“For sure. I care about giving back but in this case, I definitely care about inspiring those boys to know that I haven’t done anything that they aren’t capable of achieving.” His humbling spirit is a major part of the foundation that draws me to him. It exudes itself during any conversation he’s having.

“That’s real.”

For the first time since he sat inside of the car, our eyes met and he slowly panned his own down to assess every aspect of my frame. His lips flattened as he tightly pressed them together and with a slight nod, he turned his head forward just as it had been before.

“How was the date?”

Breathless; it’s how he left me. I opened my mouth to speak and whatever words I thought I mustered up to tell him instantly fell flat.

“You’re not wearing a dress like that to church.”

“It was thought provoking and extremely disappointing.”

“And that’s why you’re here?”

“No.”

“Then why are you here? Let me correct that before you assume. I’m not bothered by your presence. I’m anything but that. You’re just confusing. I spend a lot of time trying to figure you out and I feel like I understand some areas and I come up short in others. I’m just wondering if you’re here because things went badly with him.”

“I’m not here because of that. I already knew how things would go with him before I even went but I needed to, because he’s been in this weird state of limbo and has been filled with hope for years and I needed to know why. Now I know.”

“And that’s all it was?”

“That’s it.” It’s been years since I explained myself to a man. Shamel and I ended damn near four years ago and I despised explaining myself to him because I was made out to be a liar no matter what I said.

“So, you’re here now. Now what? We talk and you run depending upon the way the conversation goes? Or is this the official moment when you friend zone me?”

“Odell, I’m not friend zoning you.” A huff escaped my lips as my fingers trailed from the top of my head and through the curls cascading over my shoulders.

I couldn’t bear to look after him after blurting out what I’d been so afraid to say. Early on, I attempted to keep him as nothing more than a random figment within the professional realm of my life. That failed. I then chose to view him as an acquaintance I run into from time to time and that flopped before I could put it to the test. After spending all of those days in the hospital, the friend zone felt appropriate and as if it could be a success between he and I, but I’d been telling my mind a disastrous lie that my emotions refused to adapt to.

“I just don’t know how any of this works. You say I’m confusing and I can be, but this is just as confusing.” I motioned between he and myself for emphasis.

“Well let’s figure it out.” The intensity of his glare silenced the mental clutter. The tone of his voice created a safe and comfort zone unlike any other.

The warmth of his palm met the top of my hand and I instantly flipped it over so our palms could meet. Our fingers laced, interlocking everything we weren’t saying and sealing a deal we’d yet to make.

As the faint music played, the clock grabbed my attention.

“I have something for you.”

“You have something for me? Like what?” His lips curved into that all too familiar smirk of his and his eyes blissfully gleamed. Rather than saying it, I exited the car and quickly made my way to the trunk. I’d been riding around with the box and garment bag in there for over a week and now I can finally cure my anxiousness.

“What’s that?” Again, I didn’t say anything as I leaned in from my side and passed them over so he’d be able to place them on his lap.

“Open the box first.” Once I closed the door, I turned the heat up just a notch more. I didn’t think fall would be hitting this hard. Usually the weather is all over the place, but this year, that shit seems to be no joke. We’re going to be brutalized with snow at the rate things are going.

“Okay.” Like a kid on Christmas, he rubbed his hands together in glee and quickly lifted the lid off. In an instant, he erupted into a booming fit of laughter. I had to join him, because it was so infectious.

I have decent friendship with Angelo Baque, who is more the former brand director of Supreme. We met two years ago at New York Fashion Week and we’ve remained in touch ever since. He even had me model in an ad campaign for the brand last year that was plastered all over New York City in anticipation for fashion week. So, though his Supreme days are behind him, it doesn’t mean that he isn’t in good standing with the brand. It ended up being fairly easy to have a custom Supreme x Louis Vuitton printed walking boot created for Odell.

“Sarai. This is fire.” He closely examined it with bits of giggles that eventually turned into laughter once again. It amused me just as much when I picked it up. It’s fashionably loud and just as gaudy as he can be sometimes. If he’s going to have to wear a big ol’ medical boot, why not make it something representative of himself?

“You like it?”

“Hell yeah. This is perfect. You already know that I sometimes get frustrated as hell when I look down at that boot and you just fixed that problem.”

“I know. That’s why I got it.”

“I love it. I love it so much.”

“I know you have so much of the collection in your possession already because I’ve seen it on your Instagram, but you don’t have this. It’s a sample piece that never made it into the collection. I asked your mom for your size and by a miracle, one of the two jackets of its kind can fit you.” I held the box to make it easier for him to unzip the garment bag and he pulled out the vivid red bomber style of jacket. Everything about it screamed his name when I laid my eyes on it and I had to have it for him, no matter what the price tag was for it. Luckily, it wasn’t as overly hefty as I thought it would be. It’s the perfect piece to pair with the walking boot. Just because he’s injured, doesn’t mean that he can’t be as on point as he usually is when he’s out and about.

“And I thought I had connects. Whew! This is crazy. And it’s a one of one? At least for me it is. I’ma have to stunt with this one. It’s only right.”

“I know a few people.”

“Shit, a few more than me. Sarai, this is amazing. You got me cheesing like a kid on Christmas right now.”

“I know.”

“Oh, so you know me huh?” Why did he have to bite his lip after such a question? My backside shifted in the seat as my thighs pressed together much tighter than they already were.

“I know some things.”

“I want you to know everything.” Our hands met again as I reached to turn the heat off. I didn’t need it anymore.

In an attempt to mask the fluttering radiating throughout my body, I slid further down into the seat.

“I’d like that.”

My eyes panned over to the clock once again. Just as I did, midnight was finally upon us.

“Happy Birthday Odell.”

All week long, I’d been contemplating how I’d go about acknowledging him on his day. I didn’t want it to be the typical call or an impersonal text message. It certainly wasn’t going to be some social media post with a long heartfelt caption like I’m sure he’s going to receive from many throughout the day. Since I’d be bearing gifts, I knew it needed to be done here, but the exact timeframe was a silent debate. Finally, I settled on coming right around this time.

“Thank you, baby.”

Like he’d been doing since he was finally able to trap me into his world at the Bleacher Report party, he leaned over to invade my space. As my head turned, his plush lips brushed mine in a fiery passion and demand. He took possession of all seven of my senses and shifted us into a place where only he and I exist. The warmth of his minty breath rid our space of any bit of cool air trickling into the car.

“Sarai.” He huskily whispered my name; savoring every syllable as if he’d never heard anything more beautiful. Our breaths mingled as his lips pressed into mine.

I would have thought after all of the footage I’ve watched, all of pictures I’ve looked over, and all of the time we’ve spent speaking that I’d know quite a bit about his lips because they’re certainly my favorite part of him to look at thus far, but absolutely nothing could prepare me for this. Nothing.

His tongue sensually brushed over both of my lips in a plea for entry and I granted it. The warmth of his tongue grazed mine and his arm wrapped around my waist and drew me closer in a ravenousness that could not be ignored. He awoken parts of me that have been ignored for nearly four years. I yearned for a type of touch that I haven’t been able to properly satisfy through my own store-bought measures. I’ve laid awake at night wondering how his kiss would feel and as he sucking on my bottom lip in a tease that is sure to send me to an early grave, my wonder didn’t have a chance of measuring up to what I’m feeling right now.

“Take me home with you.” My heart thrashed against my chest as I pulled my quivering bottom lip in-between my teeth. Dear, God.

“Not for anything more than just me spending time with you. That’s it.”

“You have company in your house. You can’t leave them.”

“Yes, I can and I am. Drive.” It wasn’t a request but rather an order.

He settled back into the seat and boldly pulled the passenger side seatbelt over his body and properly secured it. For the sake of my own comfort, he removed the box from my lap and placed it back onto his.

I gazed into his tempting dark chocolate eyes for just a minute to see if he’d change his mind, but he sat patiently waiting for me to make my move and so I did.

I slowly pulled around his driveway and drove off into the night.

#odell beckham jr fanfic #odell beckham fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fan fic

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ardentmuse · 5 years

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Perchance a Parchment (George Weasley x Reader) - Part 1

Harry Potter - George Weasley x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2.3k

Series Summary: After your owl decided the proper destination for the note intended for your best friend is Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, you find yourself in an anonymous romance with the man of your dreams. But little do you know, he is also the owner of that obnoxious joke shop just down the street from your store, the one that is slowly putting you out of business.

Series Masterlist // Masterlist

A/N: Woohoo Part 1 is here! I am excited for this cute little journey of ours. :) I hope you like this.

“Oy, Georgie! You gotta come see this,” Fred screamed from the first floor of their shop.

George could hear the commotion clearly from where he was sitting at the top of the spiral stairs, buried under a stack of papers in the circular room that worked as a makeshift office. He imagined for the previous owners, this might have been a place to keep the most valuable wares, to walk the wealthiest customers up the long helix until they felt intrigued by the exclusivity offered only to them. The tall wood-paneled walls were lined with glass cases, now filled to their brims with potions ingredients, meticulously labeled and sorted; each box for a different best-selling product and an entire case for “experiments.” But for George, even the amount of order he and Fred managed was not enough to keep up with the chaos that was his mind. The business was expanding at an alarming rate and it took almost all of George’s energy to simply keep up the books, let alone the supply and creation of new, innovative products.

He’d have to hire a new cashier soon, and maybe even an accountant. But the prospect of interviewing made him a little bit nauseous. More to do. Always more to do.

“Georgie!” Fred screamed again.

With a sigh, George closed the giant tome that was functioning as a legger. He checked his reflection in the glass for just a moment -- you never know when a beautiful woman might decide to stop in -- and with a quick adjustment to his vest, he descended the stairs.

As the shop came into view below him, colorful shelves and school children running all around, collected in corners and laughing with their friends, it wasn’t very hard to find what had Fred in stitches. A young boy, at least he presumed he was male, had hair growing wildly all around his neck and each time he tried to speak to George’s twin, who casually sat upon the counter overlooking an adoring crowd of youngsters, his voice came out as a purr or a roar; a little lion in all but body.

Fred turned to his brother and smiled. “Combined those jelly beans and the shape-shifting gumdrops you released last week. Wish we would have thought of it ourselves.”

And with that, Fred jumped onto the counter and reached into his pocket. He examined the candies within and with a quick decision, tossed two George’s way.

“Ready for some fun, Gred?”

With the eager eyes of the children and the cheshire grin of his brother upon him, George left the mounds of paperwork behind him in exchange for some mischief.

“After you, Forge, my good sir!” George called as he too hopped up on the counter, the crowd around them growing ever stronger.

“Now, friends, don’t try this at home,” Fred said, to which George followed up, “Yeah, wait until you get to school. Give ol’ Minerva a show for us, won’t ya?”

And that was what you saw as you walked back to your bookstore as the sun began to set. Not George Weasley, the wonderfully brilliant mastermind behind new and amazing treats, the skilled bookkeeper and investor, the hilarious and bright man who found such joy in his work and his family, and the soft and caring brother who always knew the right things to say to make anyone smile. No, what you saw was a self-obsessed fool standing on a countertop with a face vaguely resembling a seal as he tried to balance massive gumballs upon his snout. You saw only a man who was fueled on the adoration of others and on creating chaos for the sake of chaos, running a shop that was so popular it was encroaching on the entirety on Diagon Alley.

You looked on only for a moment, at the bright yellow lights of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, like a beacon to children of the joys within. And you thought just maybe that strangely beautiful pompous Weasley brother met your gaze just before you continued your journey to your humble shop down the road.

“You okay, George?” Grizzly bear Fred asked his brother. But George didn’t really hear him. His eyes were intent on the street just outside. Bright eyes, the brim of an adorable nose, and the shine of a maroon cloak in the setting sunlight consumed his vision, but not more than the saddened pout on that near perfect face, a perfect face that slipped into the crowd of busy commuters and was gone as quickly as it came.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah,” George said after a moment. “Just--”

“A pretty face?” Fred asked with a wink. Immediately, George began to blush, or at least he thought he was. It was hard to tell with the strange texture of his skin at present.

“Prettier than Angie’s?” Fred asked later that night as they locked up the shop.

George sighed, “You know that’s over, Fred. Please stop bringing it up.”

As Fred clicked off the last of the lights, he addressed his brother who was already halfway up the stairs towards their apartment. “Maybe if you’d gone on a single date these past four years, I would. Speaking of which, I’m meeting Lee at the Leaky Cauldron if you want a crack at getting back in the game?”

George laughed, “Lee’s not really my type, mate. Have fun.”

George heard Fred screaming, “You’re not going to find that pretty face in our apartment, Georgie. At least not until you invite her up yourself.”

And George shut the door to their suite before he could hear any more of his brother’s silly encouragements. Thought George knew he was right, he had more pressing things to focus on at the moment. Romance could come much later. If this woman was perfect for him, she’d be perfectly fine waiting until the business was settled.

Though he’d been saying that to himself for years now…. Would things ever settle or had he and Fred opened a can of worms that would consume their lives forever?

That night, in your apartment over your shop just ten doors down the way, you also laid in bed contemplating the same things. Years now you had been with the same person, the man you thought you’d marry someday if things kept going as they had when you first started up. But they hadn’t. Thomas was still your dear friend, and you owed him so much for helping you transition to life in the UK, but the passion was completely gone. You were both going through the motions, you knew, neither of you willing to say the words to end it for good.

Passion. When you first opened your shop, you were so excited about bringing fiction to the lives of the wizarding community. All the books shop you had seen only sold textbooks and reference literature. Occasionally there was “fiction” masked as memoir, but a proper narrative was lost on adults. You wanted to expose witches and wizards to adventure, horror, humor, and romance. You even brought in books from muggle communities. You had a robust section for children and a daily story time that was widely attended, mostly due to your impressive use of magic to create visuals and voices to go with each story. But sales were questionable. You loved what you did but it wasn’t necessarily sustainable. The landlord was already on you about a potentially having someone else willing to pay a higher price for the space. If that were true, you may have to kiss this dream goodbye. But then what would you have left? Thomas who hadn’t kissed you with love in months?

At least you had a good group of friends who’d let you crash on their couches until you figured out your next career move. The Weasleys had a help wanted sign up still, didn’t they? You laughed at the thought of working for those pompous fools.

But speaking of friends, you lifted yourself out of bed and lit the candle upon your desk, waking Diomedes, your owl, and penned a letter to your longest and dearest friend.

The following morning, George insisted on now interruptions. He needed several hours in the office to get up to date on the books before they met with the realtors next week to discuss expansion.

And as lunch time came and went, George had almost actualizing the previous month when he heard a strong and insistent banging at the window just beside his desk. He pulled his head away to see a tawny owl, more cream than brown, with a long piece of parchment tied securely to his ankle. The owl tilted his head, asking to be let in. George obliged his request.

Immediately, the owl swooped in and positioned himself on the end of the desk, his leg in the air to be plucked of the parchment. He didn’t recognize the bird. Maybe Ron got a new bird through work or Ginny is using one from a local owlery while she’s in tournament play.

“Someone trained you well, little mister,” George said to the animal. As if hearing him, the bird screeched and flapped before settling back against the bookshelves in the far corner of the room, clearly awaiting a reply.

And so George opened the scroll, expecting the opening line to explain the unfamiliar bird but instead he found a note in pleasant script addressed to a, “Peaches.”

Dearest Peaches,

I’ve been thinking a lot about those nights you and I spent in your clubhouse during summers as children. We would talk about how we wanted life to be when we grew up. I remember each night was a different elaborate story. We would start a band and travel the world performing in every tavern and pub in the wizarding world until someone took us seriously. We’d buy a house in the hills of the Pyrenees and catalogue all the creatures that hid within. We become two of the greatest aurors the world would ever know and tear down dark wizards around the world, maybe hunt vampires and werewolves too. We’d marry brothers so we could be sisters-in-law and have a brood of children who’d be best friends. We had so many dreams.

Did you ever notice that we never simply imagined being happy? Each story was always about doing something grand. All the small moments of life -- the lunches with friends, the Christmas dinners with family, the books we’d read and the vacations we’d take -- were completely left out. But isn’t life just a series of small moments? Does there have to be a grand adventure, a great love, an epic quest, to make this life meaningful? Or can we just exist? Can we just be two people happily moving forward each day?

Don’t get me wrong. I want passionate love. I want harrowing escapades. I want tales to tell. But more than anything I want to wake up each day to something that makes me smile and fall asleep to the same. And I feel like I am just getting there...

I hope today you find something to make you happy, my friend.

Yours,

Cherry

As George read the words, he felt he could anticipate the next sentence. Had he not wanted the exact same thing as a child? He pictured sitting with Fred in their beds, pushed together despite mum’s protests about how to doing so would scuff her floors, and plotting the trajectory of their lives. Dragon-taming with Charlie or curse-breaking with Bill or playing quidditch for England’s team as they won the World Cup. But now, as adult life was settling in, he was realizing he was much more fulfilled by the smiles he put on children’s faces, by the laughs he shared with Fred as they came up with a new treat, and the coos of his nieces asleep in his arms after Easter dinner.

Whomever was on the other end of this letter, this “Cherry” which he assumed was a codename, seemed to know just the tiniest part of his soul. He found himself smiling at the thought of a woman for the first time in many moons.

“Dear Cherry,” his letter began as he completely ignored the growling of his stomach letting him know he needed lunch. The tawny owl was staring at him intently as he put words to paper.

Your owl seems to have confused my office for the home of your dear Peaches. Thought I must say, I am not sure he made a mistake. I needed to read your words today. Things have been overwhelming stressful and I have found myself trying to see the forest through the trees. Your letter has helped remind me that the trees are valuable all on their own.

I like to think I’m the kind of guy who can find joy in most things, but sometimes the pressure to succeed is overwhelming. Work used to just be fun. The fact that it made me money was an added bonus. But now… I don’t know. It feels like work. Like you, I think I’m getting close to the things that make me happy. Maybe I just need you to help change my focus...

But, tell me, Cherry. I’m intrigued. How come a woman with a lovely mind like yours hasn’t found herself some passionate love?

Sincerely,

Ge Call me Rhubarb

All tags: @fangirlandnerd, @aerdnandreaa, @thisisbullshytt, @cancerousjojian, @whovianayesha, @themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy, @luna-xxxxx, @sleepylunarwolf, @starryrevelations, @potter-thinking, @all-by-myself98, @bananafosters-and-books, @cutie-bug

Harry Potter tags: @tessimagines, @0-lost-in-stereo-0, @whysoseriouspadfoot

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#harry potter #harry potter imagine #george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #hp #hp imagine #weasley twins #reader insert #george weasley x you #fred weasley #perchance a parchment

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teaandgames · 5 years

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What I’m Hoping For From The Outer Worlds

When I finished Fallout: New Vegas, I was left hungry for more. Not so much for more Fallout specifically, as the idea of replaying Fallout 3 or Fallout 4 didn’t really appeal to me, but I wanted more of Obsidian’s handiwork. Outside of Pillars of Eternity, you understand, as I have yet to carve out half a year to play through it. I’m not good at those games. Instead, I wanted to roam through a changing and responsive world again. New Vegas was great at that.

As you can imagine, I’m pretty damn excited about The Outer Worlds. The story has an almost frontiersman vibe to it, as we’re sent to a growing colony that is already riven by disagreements. Corporate greed is as present in the future as it ever was in the past. But that aside, let’s go through some things I’m hoping for from The Outer Worlds. Some have been confirmed, others are just wishful thinking. Let’s start with one of the confirmed ones.

Branching Paths

One of the best parts of Fallout: New Vegas is the branching, changing narrative. New Vegas was an apple ripe for the plucking by a multitude of people, with Hoover Dam being the big catalyst for that. You could side with law abiding (well, as much as laws exist in the wasteland) NCR, the brutally expansive Legion or just take over the damn thing yourself. It allowed a lot of freedom, even if I could rarely bring myself to break from the NCR.

I truly hope The Outer Worlds follows this idea as well, because it neatly shifted the focus from the character to the world. It’s a bit tiring being the chosen one all the time, sometimes you just want the world to take center stage. The Outer Worlds has already set up a few competing interests right from the get go. You’re awakened from cryo sleep by a scientist who needs your help. You can go with him or turn him over to the authorities for a cash sum.

As far as I’m aware, Obsidian have already confirmed that there are multiple endings. These are based on choices you make, so butchering everyone will probably result in a pretty bleak ending. I doubt you can go full pacifist, but I’m fairly certain I’m going to have a light touch when it comes to character murder.

Make It An RPG

One of the biggest criticisms I had of Fallout 4 was the streamlining of the characters. They took away most of the RPG elements, with Skills being the biggest one, and as a result they heavily diluted the perk system. The whole thing felt like an accessory, rather than a core part of the experience. I hated that, it seemed a slap in the face for the series. One of the reasons I kind of gave up on that game.

The Outer Worlds, however, seems to be bringing it back to a degree. It does seem a bit smaller than New Vegas, as you seem to have skills only (rather than the SPECIAL stats on top of it) but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Perks are also in place too but with a new addition of ‘Flaws’. These are as they sound, things that negatively impact your character. Taking one allows you to take a perk.

By the sounds of it, they’re trying to shape your character a bit more. Rather than just the impenetrable chosen one, you need to have some weaknesses. How well that transitions into gameplay remains to be seen.

Check Us Out

One of my all time favourite things in the Fallout series is the skill checks in dialogue. This is not just a New Vegas thing, Fallout 3 had it too if memory serves. It gives another tangible use for skills, rather than just increasing the numbers in the background. Skill checks would often open up a more pacifist path (or a violent one, if you enjoyed goading people) and allowed you to open up quests a bit more.

This is something that I really hope The Outer Worlds continues on with. They’ve confirmed that quests can be completed in different ways, which is always nice, and skill checks were a good part of that. The ability to bring up your proficiency in guns, repair or science in conversation was a nice touch. Speaking with confidence on a topic is a good way to turn someone to your side, after all. Even if New Vegas’ skills were so easy to level up that it became almost unnecessary by the end.

The Outer Worlds seems to take the speech element a bit further, as you’ll need to find items in the world or figure something out about the person you’re trying to charm. Colonisation is a tough thing, so you’ll need every edge you can lay your mitts on.

Shoot ‘Em Up

Lastly, the biggest thing they need to work on is the shooting. I must admit that I was a little hesitant when I heard it was set in the future. Sci-fi games conjure up images of energy weapons and energy weapons and me don’t get along. I find them unsatisfying to use in most cases, even in games that concentrate on the shooting, such as DOOM. New Vegas was no exception, with the only energy weapon I used to any great degree being the Gauss Gun. Because it would visibly eviscerate enemies.

A lot of them feel like they’re just spewing out balls of light, rather than having a tangible effect. It’s probably my fault more than the actual games - I’m a bullet man, I guess. But even leaving the energy weapons aside, Obsidian need to work on the shooting. In a game like this, the firefights are like a gateway. All the juicy plot and character interaction is often hidden behind combat. Even if you’re trying to be a pacifist, wild animals don’t tend to listen to kind words.

If there’s one thing to take from Fallout 4, it’s the shooting. They did open world combat pretty damn well and I hope Obsidian can up their game to match it. Now they aren’t being hounded by Bethesda, and aren’t reliant on a creaky old engine, there’s a good foundation for solid shooting. I really hope they can deliver.

The Outer Worlds doesn’t have a release date yet, beyond ‘2019’ but it’s already the game I’m looking forward to the most this year. Obsidian put out my favourite Fallout game while hobbled so seeing them off the leash, and back in the genre, is exciting. Here’s to interplanetary colonisation!

#The Outer Worlds #Obsidian #Fallout #Fallout new vegas #Fallout 4 #Gaming #Video Games #Tea And Video Games #Bethesda #Article

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doshmanziari · 5 years

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Economy and Thematic Structure: Symphony of the Night's Level Design

[N.B.: This piece was originally featured on Gamasutra. I was inspired to post it here too after watching the Boss Keys YouTube video on Symphony of the Night’s world design and finding the analysis shallow and unoriginal.]

"Why is Castlevania: Symphony of the Night good?" is a question that's been asked countless times over the years since the game's release on the PlayStation in 1997. People seem almost desperate to know the answer to this in the wake of similarly modeled but less acclaimed titles such as Aria of Sorrow and Order of Ecclesia. It seems that no matter how many explicative lists are written, Symphony of the Night (hereafter shortened to SotN or Symphony) is representative of an unplaceable magic; thus, its staying power. That's the typical narrative, anyway. As someone who does think that Symphony is indeed good, I have my own answers -- answers that I think stand out from the usual enumerations -- to that question. I'll attempt to lay some of them out here.

The most common thing you're bound to hear in support of SotN's quality is its maximalism: that the game is so stuffed and gilded with "pointless" details that one comes to adoringly approach it as a curious, jewel-like creature. It's a trait that's perhaps more valued now than ever before, as mainstream game development has become a monstrous, multi-million-dollar endeavor that discourages strangeness and obtuse secrecy partly for fear of lacking recuperative sales. As worn out as it is, this is a good point. Symphony expresses a sort of creative freedom that's all the more reinforced by Koji Igarashi's comments in this video from 2015 -- a freedom that came from the purgatorial point in time in which the game was made, when Konami's direction for the series was vague. What we got was a game made by a small group of people who had little resistance to including every trifle, even if that trifle's inclusion meant several more hours of work.

I'll come right out and say that Symphony's castle is my object of interest as a player and a critic. I've always been entranced by how a wide range of elements -- the backgrounds' incredible rendering, the variety of colorful monsters, Michiru Yamane's indispensable score, and more -- came together to make the castle have a life force that felt like it existed beyond the constraints of a television screen. So what's sort of interesting, in the context of this discussion, is that SotN's castle isn't really maximalist in look or layout. It's certainly eclectic, if you're comparing one of its sectors to another, but it's not defined by excess, and to call it "sprawling" is only half-accurate. In fact, as the series progressed with the return of Igarashi as producer on 2002's Harmony of Dissonance, there came to be a sort of inverse maximalism, relative to SotN, at play in the overall scheme of things. All of the rococo stuff that intertwined with the mechanics (e.g., a familiar spirit being able to tell you where hidden rooms were) got whittled down; meanwhile, the game worlds grew in quantitative size, culminating in 2006's Portrait of Ruin that boasted a 1000% (hey: that's bigger than 200.6%!) completion rate.

"Economy" and "focus" are words you'll pretty much never hear spoken in reference to SotN, but they're nonetheless, and perhaps surprisingly, good words to use when trying to explain what makes its castle stand out from the other so-called Igavanias. I'm going to be speaking in somewhat broad terms here just to avoid getting too entrenched in specifics, but I'm also going to try to avoid cherry-picking comparative material. After all, it's not as if Symphony's qualities were entirely unrecognizable in its progeny. The point I want to make here isn't that SotN is perfect, or that everything went to hell after 1997. I'd rather like to say that Symphony's level design, in general, has a clarity and consistency that never resurfaced with the same potency in the series since its release.

Let's first take a look at the Royal Chapel. This is one of my favorite places in Symphony, and a great example of the qualities I mentioned. Now look at Harmony of Dissonance's equivalent: the coupled Corridor in the Air and Chapel of a Heretic. The difference here is striking. Although there are parallels between the two (for example, the Chapel of a Heretic has several halls that are modeled on those jutting out from the Royal Chapel's towers; note the windows' shape), the Royal Chapel has a cleanliness, even a linearity, to its organization. It's easy to follow with the eye, and there's no mistaking that the navigational theme, starting from the bottom, is ascent. And this sense isn't just something selectively derived from the perspective of seeing the whole map at once. For one, you've got the longest continuous staircase in the game; for another, there's a central tower that's allowed to rise as tall as it wants without any horizontal redirections, and a couple of also unbroken shorter towers thereafter. This ascensional theme is also bolstered by the progression of environmental details you can see beyond the Royal Chapel's borders. A hilly coniferous forest gradually gives way to an indigo sky and a stream of clouds, with the forest now a distant sight.

So, we've got an environment here that directs our movement along a specific main route, and it's complemented by the theme of escalating verticality. When we come to Harmony's Corridor in the Air, though, it's difficult to figure out what the layout is trying to communicate. The spaces are visually unified but structurally disorganized. It's as if the level design is trying to pull off a bunch of stuff at once at the expense of letting any of it develop. Although disorganization can be interesting (and there are arguably other ways, outside of this essay's range, to interpret Harmony's castle), in this case the environment is missing the narrative of progression that's part of what makes the Royal Chapel such a pleasure to go through. A bit of focus is brought in with the Chapel of Heretic, if only because there are no branching paths, but its appearance seems to ask more than ever for a comparison to the Royal Chapel, and it can't favorably compare. You're undeniably ascending, but the majority of the rooms you're traversing are horizontal, and this dulls the actual feeling of ascending.

The top of the Chapel of a Heretic -- that large room with the long staircase -- brings to mind another subject, due to its parallel to the Royal Chapel's staircase, and this is the use of a room as a dramatic device with fulfilled, or unfulfilled, implications. The Royal Chapel's staircase is interesting because it's a dramatic structure (extensive, singular, complemented by richly ornamented recesses, and the way in which you're properly introduced to the Royal Chapel) involved with the navigational theme of descent that produces a sense of anticipation (e.g., "This staircase is so long; I wonder what it's leading to"); and this is fulfilled in the form of the gorgeous chapel sidelined by stained-glass windows and terminating in an altar. In elementary terms, the Royal Chapel's staircase displays a set-up/payoff dynamic.

Rather than compare this to the Chapel of a Heretic's staircase, though, I'd like to pit it against Portrait of Ruin's Great Stairway, whose namesake is a pair of chambers containing long staircases. Comparisons to the Royal Chapel here are perhaps most apt because the Great Stairway's stairs are similarly staffed by Corner/Hill Guards and also have overhanging ledges with collectible items. The problem the Great Stairway runs into is that neither staircase offers anything aside from sheer size and those aforementioned call-backs. The chambers' opposing extremities lead to nondescript transitional rooms with no major or minor drama beyond, and each is side by side, which only calls attention to how similarly structured both chambers are. This is especially bad because these chambers are the largest rooms in the castle (as demonstrated by the game's map), on top of locationally representing its "heart", and yet the take-away is that the designers were more concerned with filling space via copy-pasting than with having the architecture be engaged in any sort of dialogue with itself.

Something else I'd like to talk about is how generous Symphony is with giving its places breathing room. Breathing room is important because it allows environments to better develop on their own terms, helps to thematically distinguish areas, and assists in our ability to mentally organize them individually and in relation to the entire game world (something that is its own form of entertainment). This is a trait that ties back into the visual lucidness of the Royal Chapel's layout. It's illuminating to compare Symphony's map with that of Dawn of Sorrow. It becomes clear here what I'm talking about with breathing room: Dawn's map appears to be on a mission to cover as much space as possible (so much so that the bit of negative space on the top left feels like an oversight), but when we look at Symphony's, it's not too much of a leap to estimate that nearly half of the map is negative space.

This isn't a detail that's only appreciated in the abstraction of a map, either. If we review Dawn of Sorrow's Dark Chapel, we can pick out points of visual continuity and hierarchical structure. For instance, the second boss' room (Malphas) is stacked directly atop the first boss' room (Dmitrii) with the shared visual element of the organ, and Malphas' room is headlined by a corridor that follows the three rooms' progression from the "underworld" to the "heavens." We might also note that the belfry rightly sits at the Chapel's highest point and is situated above a visually unified and equally wide pair of rooms. But the Chapel's upper body is so compressed that architectural decisions such as these fall flat; the literal compression becomes an expressive compression that isn't particularly relevant to the environment. The fact that I, as the player, am in that top corridor, suspended above the distant mountains, is something that's really only communicated by the background. In action, entering the corridor feels abrupt -- I've only ascended two "rooms"' worth (represented by a single square on the map), relative to Dmitrii's room -- and this abruptness is reinforced by looking at the map and seeing how awkwardly squished the corridor's supporting columns are against the roof of Malphas' room.

Does Symphony have no compressed environments? Absolutely not! Let's be attentive here, though. Its castle's two most compressed places, by far, are the Colosseum and the Catacombs. If there is any criticism to be made of this pair in terms of how their parts interlock, it is perhaps the immediate transitions between the bed of lava in the Catacombs' natural halls and its built rooms' foundations. But beyond this slip-up, these are successful instances of compression because that trait feels thematically relevant. It works for the Colosseum both because it renders the macro-structure's hard symmetry as even more explicit, and its smushed quality recalls the cramped quarters of an actual colosseum's hypogeum. Similarly, the Catacombs' compression works because it reinforces the area's claustrophobic associations, and the overall thrust of the environment -- strongly horizontal, and never higher than two "rooms" -- really drives home the sense that this truly is the castle's bedrock.

"Compression", in this context, can also refer to how sectioned an environment is. To this day, in my opinion, Symphony feels like the 2D explorative Castlevania with the largest scope, and I'm more or less convinced that feeling is partly, yet intimately, supported by its castle having relatively more rooms that are allowed to expand to larger extents without transitional splits, as indicated on the map by a lighter or broken line within a room's border. This perhaps sounds counterintuitive; we might rather suppose that more rooms equates to a larger scope. But this isn't necessarily true. The dimensional quality of a space's entirety is not solely communicated by the quantity of its partitions; it's also how willing it is to give us the time and room to dwell on that specific space before it switches to something else. Look at Symphony's map again and notice how the Outer Wall is mostly one vertical block; how the Clock Tower and the Long Library are two large chunks bookending a minority of smaller bits; how the Castle Keep is a big L-shape with a rectangular cluster to its right; or how the Underground Caverns largely are three horizontal rooms and three vertical rooms. In fact, the trend of building subsidiary spaces around dramatically primary spaces is Symphony's rule -- not the exception!

By the time of Harmony of Dissonance, this trend had already become a scarcity; and although things did improve irregularly (Aria of Sorrow is perhaps the closest a title produced by Igarashi ever came to matching Symphony's spatial dynamism), it's a trend that could not be more alien to 2008's Order of Ecclesia. It's curious that the only follow-up to Symphony which did not aggressively slenderize, straighten, and divide its castle's parts was 2001's Circle of the Moon, handled by the Kobe branch of Konami, and I don't think it's a coincidence that, of the GBA and DS Castlevania titles, its castle's scope is the most substantial. One part of me wants to say that things developed as they did because of a vastness of variables: evolving teams, tighter deadlines, an absent concern for the emphases of this article, and so on. Another part of me wants to say that the obsessive-compulsive leanings of these games became guiding principles; which is to say, the toning down of big rooms and the emphatic sectioning came about because it made grinding easier. It's hard to not side with this interpretation when there are moments such as a hall in Ecclesia that's split down the middle for seemingly no other reason than because the hall is long and each section has a different set of enemies.

I want to elaborate on the comment above about "straightening", because it probably isn't clear what I mean (and even if it is, it's worth picking at). When I refer to a castle's parts, or rooms, as "straight", it's a way of saying that their border-lines unite to make a shape that's either a square or rectangle. This is the standard, no matter which Castlevania, starting at Symphony and ending at Ecclesia, we're talking about; yet, like other things we've examined in this article, it's a standard with degrees of prevalence. Scan this map of Symphony's castle I've edited so that all of its irregular rooms -- fourteen total -- are marked by a green star (note how nine are of the primary/large variety, increasing their significance). Now scan this similarly edited map of Harmony's castle. Upon KCET's return as the series' developers, the number of irregular rooms shrank to four, and two were based upon a couple of rooms from Symphony: the Royal Chapel's stairway, and the Marble Gallery's basement chamber. After Harmony, the only map allowing irregular rooms was Aria of Sorrow, with a whopping single room at the castle's pinnacle.

It is again curious that KCEK's Circle of the Moon stands so decisively apart from these other titles: its castle has nearly forty irregular rooms. There's no way to know how Circle's developers approached designing the castle, but the presence of such a dramatically quantifiable characteristic suggests some kind of approach that differed from KCET's developers. How else do we account for that contrast? All things considered, it's my opinion that Symphony's castle is the most dynamic, thanks in large part to how thematically distinguished its areas are; but if we're talking about the varied usage of pure geometric space, Circle comes out on top. You might be wondering where I'm going with any of this, and in response I'd like to quote from a write-up I did of Circle back in 2012: ". . . it’s easy to overlook how a game’s boundaries affect our experience of its places, perhaps because a boundary is treated as the line where the level design ends. But a boundary is really a continuation of the level design. Though it may not be interactive with one’s avatar, it does interact with the enclosed content. It organizes the extent of our movement, and its geometry feeds into all those ineffably subtle reactions we have to the spirit of a place."

What else can be said? A lot, actually! We could discuss how frequently room-types are reused; how precisely and visually segregated an environment's districts are and its link to thematic articulation; or the rough interactive textures that Symphony's inverted castle affords, in spite of how "lazy" the procedure was to create the inverted castle. But I'm satisfied with breaking things off here and saving those ideas for future analyses or -- something that interests me more -- the input of readers. What do you think? Does any of this help you to understand Symphony of the Night in a new light? Have you been thinking these thoughts all along? Do some of the interpretations seem conceptually strained?

Thanks to Revned, Edsword, mephea, TerraEsperZ, Wileee, and Zeric for their hard work on screenshot-mapping Symphony of the Night's castle.

You can support my work on Patreon.

#Castlevania #symphony of the night #metroidvania #level design #videogame analysis #Harmony of Dissonance #Akumajou Dracula #order of ecclesia #portrait of ruin #Gekka no Yasoukyoku

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scarlettlawyer · 5 years

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Part 7 of my reaction/commentary to the Phantoms & Mirages fanfic series by @renegadewangs

(Chasing Phantoms): Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

(Haunted Specters): Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Going into Vanquishing Mirages, I’d first like to comment on the title. To the uninitiated, those unfamiliar with the story and the characters, the title can seem pretty vague. Indeed, I’d taken the title to be akin to referring to/describing an abstract concept at first glance when I was not in-the-know, and it’s only upon getting up to the fic that it’s suddenly like “Oh. It’s literal. It’s meant to be taken literally.” The same can be said for the title of the overall series, “Phantoms and Mirages”, which I have already commented on. I’d always thought it was a nice play wherein there are two similar words, but one is referring to a concrete, actual character whereas the other is only for the abstract concept. Only to find out, no, they’re BOTH words that refer to concrete, actual characters. It feels kinda cool how suddenly the title fully “reveals” itself like this and takes shape, but only once you’re far enough into the story.

The transition from Chasing Phantoms to Haunted Specters is one wherein it absolutely feels like you’re starting a brand new story in a series after finishing the first one, not least because of the timeskip. Things are also mostly wrapped up by the end of Chasing Phantoms except for some loose ends. But they stand out as two very separate stories, or separated stories, albeit of course still existing within the same series with many running threads between the two. But as I finished Haunted Specters and began Vanquishing Mirages, I barely took note that I was finishing one fic and starting a new one, as the transition and connection from one to the next felt so seamless. It simply felt like I was continuing to read an ongoing story. This is also aided by how well and truly hooked and onboard I was at that point – I barely took note that the transition was one fic to another as opposed to one chapter to another, because my primary priority was just clicking through to keep on reading! I don’t think I really paused reading at all. I just headed straight from one into the next.

Vanquishing Mirages, Chapter 1

Oh, it’s already so good. It’s already so good. Hitting the ground running.

The way you connect/contrast flashbacks/scenes taking place at different points is. Masterful. For some reason, I hadn’t actually remembered the first two scenes of the fic as being shown one after the other. More phantom hypocrisy, more phantom hypocrisy! Augh. I feel bad for Mirage.

Vanquishing Mirages, Chapter 2

“Hey… Will you still recognize me? After they change my face? After they change it a hundred times over and we run into each other in the street, but you won’t know what I look like… Will you still know it’s me?”

HER SAYING THIS ACTUALLY MAKES ME SO SAD IN A SENTIMENTAL WAY.

Okay, I also love the narrative noting how Mirage’s laugh ALSO stirs Gumshoe somewhat. Because of COURSE it would. Aaaaah.

His mission as Bobby Fulbright was on a need to know basis and the only one who needed to know was he himself.

HMMM! Interesting. I hate that Dual Destinies is kinda… A little unclear on this front. Also. It was so great to see a flashback to the phantom as Bobby in the Dual Destinies timeframe, too.

Okay. Okay. And the thing about these flashbacks is just. The phantom making Mirage laugh. As a consistent running thread. He can always make her laugh. And that’s a consistent running thread that’s shown for good reason! I mean, granted, making Mirage laugh is really, really easy, so it’s no surprise that she basically laughs in pretty much every scene she’s shown in – and these are phantom flashbacks. But STILLLL

PHOENIX’S REACTION TO KNOWING FRANZISKA IS PROSECUTING IS SO GREAT

“You know what’ll help? Running a quick lap around the block!” An excited grin washed over Athena’s face. She slammed a hand down on the table and pushed herself to her feet. “Here, I’ll come with you for support! Vámonos!”

“Hang on, what about dinner?” Phoenix asked. “How long do we have until it’s done?” “Three, maybe four minutes.” “That’s plenty of time! C’mon, Bobby! I’ll race you!”

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH BECAUSE THIS IS JUST, PEAK ATHENA. How is this not a canon exchange. PLUS I just love the mental image of Bobby and Athena racing around the block together because it just feels so them? I never knew I needed this before!! But yesss just let them run together ahaah! The image of it just makes me so inexplicably happy.

HOHOHO PHOENIX PICKING UP LOCKS ON THE MAGATAMA IS SO SO GOOD AHAAAA. GOTTEM

And this scene was intriguing for me simply because the narrative, as it has done so very consistently throughout the course of the series, follows Simon’s POV perspective. Of COURSE it does. Phoenix is a marginal character at best in this series. But it’s just really cool to read because Phoenix is just about the most central character in the ace attorney series, the one whose perspective we see from the most. And yet here, in this scene where the magatama reacts, we are seeing it – him – from the outside. Simon, naturally, is sceptical of the magatama whereas we, the readers, already know that it’s dead-on. As I read through the exchange that Simon and Phoenix have with each other over it… it was so easy to imagine myself holding the DS in my hands, playing through this scene in an ace attorney game AS Phoenix, being on the other side of the exchange and watching Simon deny it and say that the magatama was faulty, and knowing just as much as Phoenix does that he’s wrong. Things like this almost feel like a Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead type deal, where the “plot” and the “main characters” – at least if you are going from how the main games classify it – casually wander in on and interact with the “other characters” every now and then before wandering out of the picture again and leaving them to it – the “other characters” being, in this series, the ones whose perspectives we have been sticking with the entire time, when it almost feels like Phoenix should still be at the centre simply because of how normalised that is in the game series.

It makes me think that if you were to construct an Ace Attorney game (or rather, case?) around the plot of Vanquishing Mirages, it would – obviously – just look so dramatically different, even if the exact same stuff is happening, we’d be Phoenix interacting with the others. Instead of actually getting Simon’s POV as the narrative gives us, the player would have to rely on Phoenix’s interactions with characters like Bobby and Simon to piece together what is going on with them. You could still set up the main kind of plot and demonstrate the, for example, internal conflicts Simon is having, but you’d be getting the information much more “secondhand” – through Phoenix, as is usually the case in the games. It goes to show that you can tell the same story from so many different perspectives, and even in main ace attorney games there is so much else going on that the player obviously never gets to see. You can take a marginal character and just show how much is going on behind the scenes when Phoenix’s plot isn’t intersecting with theirs. But yes, this scene truly made me feel like we were in the midst of an ongoing Ace Attorney game, yet as an outsider – only getting the “side-character” POV through Simon.

Vanquishing Mirages, Chapter 3

yet he was willing to put that paranoia aside for the sake of Bobby’s emotional health. Why was that not the same as caring?

I’m STILL thinking real deep about this whole scene, daaaaamn. You really have the ability to inspire – to make someone really think with your writing.

THE ENTIRE SCENE WHERE SIMON AND FRANZISKA MEET IS

Perfection.

AND I CAN’T BELIEVE IT’S… WE’RE ONLY ON CHAPTER THREE??? WE’RE ONLY ON CHAPTER 3 AND EVERY CHAPTER SO FAR ALREADY FEELS ICONIC IN ITS OWN RIGHT. I guess this is a result of me not paying too much attention that this was a separate fic because SOMEHOW this scene just felt like it came later on. Probably because it’s just so damn good it feels like it gets “built up” to or we have to “wait” a bit for it, but no, no, we are only on chapter 3 and already the blessed readers get to receive such an absolute TREAT.

Vanquishing Mirages, Chapter 4

“Ahh, Fräulein von Karma. How nice to see you again. Or perhaps I should say… Es tut mir gut Ihren süsses lächeln wieder zu sehen.” “Halt deine freche schnauze!” Von Karma barked. There was another loud whip crack and a cry of pain before she stormed off.

I love this exchange very, very much because it still works and adds something to the moment regardless of whether the reader understands German or not.

For those who don’t understand German like myself, the brevity of the exchange and the contextual clues are enough to give a clear picture of the gist of what the exchange contained even though we don’t know exactly what it was, so the overall understanding of the scene is not impacted in any way – and it’s not difficult to make use of the internet to find out an exact translation if we want to.

However, this exchange also kinda feels like it says, “if you don’t know German, stuff you. Get good. Deal with it.” And like… as a non-German speaker I 100% respect that. German speakers can read through this seamlessly. But if I want to know the exact translation, I need to interrupt the reading experience however briefly to look it up for myself. Otherwise, it’s just like standing in the scene in reality, wherein whether or not you understand exactly what gets said depends on the reader, personally. It feels so natural that this – language switch/exchange would happen as it does.

There’s many details I enjoy of the Prosecutor Lobby scene that I won’t go into them all. But wow, everything, with the introduction of Franziska and all these other characters brought into the margins of the narrative, makes the narrative feel like it’s seriously ramped up a notch in build-up to the trial.

Vanquishing Mirages, Chapter 5

The brunet looked irritable and kept sending frowns towards his two colleagues, who were both stubbornly ignoring him. Simon suspected it had to do with them being unable to tell Apollo about the true nature of the trial, leaving him to believe that they would genuinely wish to defend the Phantom.

I can’t imagine how the conversation would have gone when Apollo initially found out…

“Anyway…” The judge slammed his gavel down once to call for everyone’s attention. “Court is now in session for the trial of the international spy known as the Ghost.”

AHAHAHA LOVE THIS. A+ Judge. He Would

“Objection!” called a hoarse voice.

PHANTOM OBJECTING PHANTOM OBJECTING PHANTOM OBJ

Okay. In all honesty. I absolutely love the phantom’s objection just getting steamrolled over. Him being so very patronised. By EVERYONE. Yesssss.

It was Lang who interjected next. Lang, who placed a firm hand on the defendant’s shoulder to shove him back into his seat. “I’m afraid so, Your Honor. Like a starving, dehydrated mutt, he could almost be called delirious at this point. Why, just earlier this morning, he attempted to take responsibility for the death of Mr. Presley, also known as The King. He claimed it was a political assassination.” “That is a lie,” the Phantom snarled loudly. He was ignored.

THIS is so unbelievably fun/funny to me, I’m sorry. I don’t know how much we’re SUPPOSED to be amused by it, but I just take way too much enjoyment from the phantom’s situation in this particular scene ahahaha.

Prior to this, through Bobby, the narrative sets up the whole “it’s not right to use the phantom against his will like this.” He had given his consent for it previously. That consent has clearly been revoked. And there is that sense of “:/” about the situation prior to this that Bobby is feeling. BUT. That’s isn’t the primary lens I viewed this particular scene through. I was instead moreso inclined to just cackle evilly at my fave. THE ELECTROCUTION THAT HAPPENS AFTER IS SUPER HARSH THOUGH.

Lang’s words and behaviour just refuse to take him seriously – intentionally set up to strip the phantom from the ability to be taken seriously by anyone else. ROBBING him further of any power he could possibly still have at this point.

Haunted Specters essentially saying “the phantom = Bobby and Simon’s child” is patronising in the best way. This is also patronising, in-universe this time! And it’s just the best!!! Yes!!!!

The phantom just being shut down at every opportunity is something I love way too much. get rekt

The phantom: I AM A DANGEROUS CRIMINAL I AM GUILTY-

Just about everyone else/the narrative to an extent: aww sure you are, sure you are hon. How cute. Little darling simply doesn’t know what he’s saying. Must be a little cranky. You know how little ones can be sometimes.

It’s a sucky and harsh situation but. I guess I’m kinda awful in just wanting to see him suffer up to a certain point.

Apollo Justice looked almost satisfied.

YES YES YEEEEES I LOVED THIS LITTLE LINE, this detail thrown in. HAHA YES. AND THE CONTRAST OF HIS REACTION WITH EVERYONE ELSE’S TOO.

Because there’s actually at least one more line to this effect: love all the references to Apollo NOT being happy with this situation.

By her side, Ambassador Palaeno looked shaken. He kept wringing his hands in a nervous manner. Even more behavior that struck Simon as odd. Why did this turn of events bother the man so?

OKAY FIRST OF ALL, the CONSTANT references to Palaeno’s suspiciousness through Simon’s POV were SO great, and I was like, “Hahahah Simon it’s ok, he’s just Like That. It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

BUT THEN THE NARRATIVE SEEMED TO FOCUS ON HIM SO MUCH??? To a suspicious extent. More than necessary beyond merely highlighting “haha he’s so unnecessarily suspicious to Simon.” And YES it’s because it’s Simon’s POV and Simon would be taking note a lot of this Very Odd Fellow but the constant references back to Palaeno’s shiftiness had me narrowing my eyes and going, “Okay, okay, hold up. WHAT’S going on here. There might actually be something to this. Simon possibly might be onto something.”

The suggestion that Palaeno is perhaps “stricken by guilt over something” made me think that, obviously he is not TRULY guilty of anything serious, and is obviously a nice and well-meaning man, but perhaps through his well-meaningness he might have had a hand in accidentally causing something bad and it’s just beginning to fully dawn on him. I was thinking perhaps the narrative wanted to pull a deliberate doubletwist on us – Simon thinks the man is obviously suspicious and perhaps guilty of something. The reader knows that Simon’s suspicions aren’t true, and knowing Palaeno better see him as completely innocent and as Simon just misreading him. But the narrative could totally dupe the audience very effectively, if it wanted, if Simon on some level turned out to be right. But in such a manner that still manages to preserve Palaeno’s true character. Or hey. It’s fanfiction. If it really wanted there could be a sudden “LOL Palaeno turns out to actually be bad” twist snkldsnlsdlnj

Vanquishing Mirages, Chapter 6

“Yes! Yes, that is exactly what happened!” the Phantom called, seemingly awakened from his stupor. Lang silenced him with another electric jolt- if one could call that silencing. It caused another hoarse cry of pain, after which the Phantom fell from his chair with a bang that resounded through the courtroom.

BOOOI U DESPERATE…

“No!” The spy jumped to his feet, slamming his hands down on the wooden rail before him. His eyes were wide, but even so, they twitched. He looked absolutely frantic. Whatever was inside that envelope, it was enough to rouse him from his state of defeat and send him hurtling into alarm. “As you can see, the defendant recognizes this piece of evidence. I ask that the court keeps this in consideration,” Selestia remarked. “I… No, I…” The Phantom seemed disoriented for a moment. As if he wasn’t sure what to say or do. It didn’t matter. He’d already betrayed himself by raising his voice.

CONGRATULATIONS YOU PLAYED YOURSELF PHANTOM

Lang and Fulbright both grabbed him to push him back into his seat, but he continued to stare up at Belvedere with wide eyes.

AAAAAAH MIRAGE… LOOK AT HIM JUST LOOK… YOU’RE REALLY ABOUT TO DO THIS TO HIM HUH

“You’re in no position to offer any sort of advice, Phantom. You’re in no position to do anything but follow the orders I give you. Now be a good boy and stand still for a moment.”

NOW BE A GOOD BOY AND- AAAAH

“You need to understand your place in this world. You aren’t a human being, you’re a heartless monster who needs to be locked away for everyone’s good.”

AAAAAAAAAH. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH. SO NEEDLESS TO SAY – AS THIS IS JUST PRIOR TO THE REVEAL – I DIDN’T PICK UP ON THE DOUBLEMEANING OF THIS THE FIRST TIME AROUND?

The Phantom leaned forward, once again placing both hands on the rail before him. His head was bowed, a curtain of jagged blond hiding part of his face. “Don’t. If you have even the slightest shred of decency… The slightest shred of honor… Don’t give that to them.” “Please let it also be noted that the defendant is pleading for me not to show this piece of evidence, adding further truth to the notion that the results indeed involve him, thereby further increasing their relevancy,” Selestia remarked in a rather dry tone of voice.

KINDA HATE MIRAGE. KINDA HATE MIRAGE. WHICH IS, WHEW. I LOVED HER SO MUCH I THOUGHT SHE WAS SO GREAT AND THEN SHE JUST.

AND THE DSKJHF PHANTOM APPEALING TO DECENCY AND HONOUR I just. He’s got nothing left he’s desperately appealing to senses that he does not possess. That everyone knows he does not possess. That he KNOWS everyone knows he does not possess. BUT HE’S DOING IT ANYWAY.

“I will repeat my earlier warning. Once you divulge the information regarding this sociopath’s DNA results, he will attempt to silence you, as well as everyone else who hears it,” Selestia said. She brushed her hair aside one last time and this time, Simon could see it. The trace of a smile, hidden just behind her hand.

MIRAGE WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME KINDA HATE YOU RIGHT NOW. I KNOW it’s fun to watch & make the phantom squirm but aaaaaaaa

All eyes were on him, now. Even Franziska leaned sideways to glance over his shoulder as he tore the envelope open. He could hear the Phantom calling out to him. His voice was desperate, almost hysterical, leaving no doubt that these DNA results were genuine.

Wh- h-

Simon: ok cool [just casually rips it open like this]

“… As per your request, I can hereby confirm it without a doubt. The DNA of the sample provided was proven to be a match with that of Alexander Luster and the late Zerene Luster-Palaeno.”

The characters:

Me, for the most part:

HONIN’ IN ON THAT LITTLE DETAIL LIKE HELLO WHAT

Amazing. Amazing. The – Palaeno and the phantom both have blonde hair. And… And…

Palaeno seems incredibly guilty, but is innocent. The phantom IS incredibly guilty, but in Dual Destinies, “Bobby” is just about the last person you’d suspect.

Vanquishing Mirages, Chapter 7

“You gave me your WORD, Simon Blackquill! You gave me your word that you would DESTROY IT! I’ll get you for this! I’ll make you PAY!”

Buddy. If I were Simon Blackquill in this moment. Chains, interpol agents detaining him, EVERYTHING aside. I would fear for my life to some extent.

Six degrees of separation. A theory that any two individuals could be connected through at most five acquaintances. That everyone was intertwined in one way or another. After all that’d occurred, Simon found that theory must have some basis of truth in it.

Love this phrasing, of bringing the “six degrees of separation” into this… Despite how far-out any of this seemed, this, through the prose and Simon processing it like this, once again just made it feel so grounded.

I was reeling so much… ya made the phantom related to Palaeno… A minor ace attorney character in a totally separate game… You did it… You did that.

Oh gosh, and as the paragraphs outline just how interconnected everyone is… it’s beautiful. I adore it. Well and truly demonstrating the delicately intertwined nature of everyone. Combining both the canon of the games and the canon of this fic series wonderfully to form these intricate webs.

I feel that it was a bold choice to make the phantom’s real name “Lex Luster”. The very same name that we’ve already been applying to the other character. You could have easily given the phantom a distinct name to keep some kind of a distinction there, but you decided to stick to the same one. This “bold choice” aspect moreso comes into play for me during Lifting Spirits, as at first it caused quite a bit of whiplash for me to start associating the name “Lex Luster” with this newly EXTREMELY emotional man as opposed to the super dislikable villain Lex Luster Sr that got killed off. We’re not up to there in the story yet though hahaha.

LANG’S COMMENT WITH THE VOUCHERS IS SO AWESOMELY CRUDE AHAHA. The reactions of the others just absolutely make it.

Indeed, after what happened in the courtroom, Simon was sure their presence would be quite unwanted. Unwanted, yet unavoidable. It was time to see him again and hear his side of the story.

I GUESS I’M JUST MUCH MORE OF A COWARD THAN SIMON IS but once again, if I were Simon, those death threats would still be fresh on my mind and I just. Would not want to be anywhere near the phantom, no matter how securely he was being contained. D:

Vanquishing Mirages, Chapter 8

Okay can I just, I love it. I love everything. The level of uncooperativeness and defeat. The phantom clinging to denial. Just. All of the little things and details.

Palaeno shifted in his seat and wrung his hands together in his lap. He looked rather disheartened. “… Lex…”

OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. PALAENO, NO. NO. I WOULDN’T IF I WERE YOU. I WOULD ADVISE AGAINST IT GOOD SIR. AHAHAHA oh my goodness. Oh my GOODNESS. The level of… THE SHEER LEVEL OF MISGUIDEDNESS HERE. I’m choking.

“What did you just say?” the Phantom demanded in response.

HE DOESN’T LIKE THAT HE DOESN’T LIKE THAT AT AAAAAALL AHAHAAA SUFFER.

I ALMOST KIND OF??? EXPECTED THE PHANTOM TO JUST BREAK AGAIN OVER THIS. Someone actually applying a NAME to him. LABELLING him with a REAL, ACTUAL, PROPER NAME, with a connection to a past, a history, it’s HUGE. He hates it. He hates it. It’s everything he’s fought against. The sheer size of the breakdown he had in court over the revelation – and now – now an alleged relative using it in this context is just - !!! I expected this to be way too much for him to take and he’d just lose again it in anger/denial or what have you, but he did more than enough in court. Aww, little baby tired himself out. Kudos to him for not losing it once again.

I’d also expected the phantom to react in immediate anger & semi-lose it when he saw Simon BUT! Once again, more than enough of that happened in court. There’s only so much that someone – especially a guy with limited emotions like him – can keep that up before basically becoming despondent. Seems he’s basically fallen back into a state of SOMEWHAT calm and the emotions have subsided enough for him to chat and return to his more “normal” state. Even though he’s clearly not fully returned to normal and constantly on the edge like you don’t wanna push this guy ahahaha. SUFFERRR, PHANTOM. Just BARELY keeping it together.

“Leave it to foolishly foolish fools to pretend that everything revolves around their own foolishly foolish problems.” Franziska wagged a dismissive finger at the Phantom.

THIS SENTENCE IS SUCH A BLESSING, YES FRANZISKA PUT HIM IN HIS PLACE. Haaaah! “Franziska wagged a dismissive finger at the Phantom” is such a good sentence. Patronise to him. Condescend. DISMISS. Yeah, yeah!

They made their way to the door. However, just before passing through it, Palaeno stopped in his tracks. He turned and flashed one last grin at the Phantom. One last desperate attempt to make peace. “We’ll see you at the trial tomorrow, Lex.”

SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP THIS POOR MISGUIDED MAN… Palaeno buddy… I understand but… you’re not gonna win this one.

Bobby paused for a moment, then replied with a suggestive hand gesture of his own. Simon immediately made a grab for his wrists to lower them. “Don’t indulge him!”

BOBBY I LOVE YOU.

Vanquishing Mirages, Chapter 9

Simon headed back out the front door, Fulbright by his side, to see that Wright and his two assistants were attempting to get to the steps. Luster’s followers were blocking their path, shouting and spitting at the ground. Some of them were uttering their insults in Cohdopian, others managed to speak English.

This is SO unfair on Apollo to also cop flack like this, considering. Apollo must be so, so done with everything.

“Go back to retirement, Wright!”

OUCH.

“Court will now reconvene for the trial of the international spy known as…” the judge hesitated for a moment and cast a quick glance down at his papers. “The Phantom.”

SDFKBJSDFNLSDKJN that moment of hesitation and needing to confirm for sure is THE BEST

They couldn’t bear the thought that the spy shared his name with the great Lex Luster.

All her emotions were exactly as they should be if she were the real Selestia Belvedere. She was tricking the Mood Matrix. Many years ago, the Phantom had trained Mirage to control her emotions. He’d trained her a bit too well.

I really like this? I really liked this on the first readthrough because whoa, roadblock! They finally, after struggling so hard, got her right where they needed her and it doesn’t work. I’d expected her to slip up slightly but for it to still be an uphill battle to expose her. But not so, not so at all. She’s covered her tracks. I hadn’t been expecting the cast to just run straight into a “dead end” like this! :D And it makes you so keen to read on because HOW are they going to make it out of this one?!

Vanquishing Mirages, Chapter 10

He’d suffered through quite a few ‘jokes’ at her hand already. He’d seen her supposed humor in action. From worms in his sandwich to having his shoelaces tied together, he’d witnessed it all.

WORMS IN HIS S- Okay Mirage you are the best. Thank you. Thank you so much for putting the spy boi thru so many pranks in your youth. What a blessing.

The next day, they were involved in a raid. One unfortunate sap had gotten his hands on the prank gun and as a result, two members of the smuggling ring had died. Nobody had laughed. He’d decided it was in his best interest not to confess to the prank. He’d also decided not to make another attempt at comedy- Not in the way he currently was.

THIS IS. A REVERSE-ENGINEERED JOKE. By that I mean, this would be the snappy, short & seemingly humorous statement that you would extract from this paragraph, or rather, that this paragraph could stem from:

“The phantom tried to pull a prank once.

Two people died.”

Those two sentences put together have a comedic effect about them on the reader.

It’s as if the story instead took the above two statements – a throwaway joke - and spun them into an actual, serious incident that happened and PUT IT INTO THE STORY. THAT’S WHAT IT IS IT’S A REAL THING THAT HAPPENED IN THE STORY I--- Oh my gosh. This is a reverse-engineered joke taken seriously I can’t believe it. I love it.

Okay, so we have a demonstration that the young phantom takes things in a painfully literal manner (consistent with other young phantom flashbacks) and that he flatly lacks a sense of humour…

It makes me wonder… Would a lack of emotions be inherently linked to being very literal? Would it mean one was not able to understand jokes? Even if one would not laugh or truly enjoy jokes, couldn’t one still be able to understand them on some level or learn to understand? The same goes for literal vs being able to understand rhetorical questions and figure of speech. Obviously this phantom had trouble with all of that when young, but I am unsure if there would necessarily be an inherent link among these things. Interesting to ponder.

Also… For all his struggles to understand jokes and humour in his youth, I certainly think that the phantom manages to develop his own sense of humour over time, and that there is evidence of them possessing a sense of humour both in Dual Destinies itself and earlier on in your fic series.

It is albeit a very dry sense of humour. Kind of twisted. BARELY there. But there nonetheless.

I think that the phantom, even if they cannot appreciate jokes, needs to know how to at the very least fake a sense of humour in order to properly impersonate people. Does being able to fake a sense of humour not mean that one would be required to at least possess some sliver of one themselves? The same goes for being able to understand figures of speech. Certainly something that can be picked up and learned, and is a necessity for the phantom to have a firm grasp on to impersonate properly. And of course, he must have become adept at both, given the amount of time he’s had to do so, the sheer amount of people he has impersonated, and how deep into the roles he tends to get.

OKAY THEN WE GET TH

THE PHANTOM TELLING JOKES AND I

I tell you what. On the first readthrough I just… yes, I lost it and I… really loved it. Too much? To the extent that, my “willing suspension of disbelief” wavered purely because of how great it was and how much I enjoyed it. “S-so good… So… fanservicey…!” The issues were not “believability” or “how this fits in the context of this story” but rather, “oh, this is SO good that it feels too good to be true” and my WSOD threatened to crack under the sheer weight of it alone. BECAUSE IT’S AS IF I FEEL LIKE I CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS I GUESS?

When reading a fanfic I suppose Willing Suspension of Disbelief, or what’s deemed “canon” or “out of character" is mapped onto two fronts: the canon of the source material and the canon of the fanfic itself. Some fanfictions of course, readily wave the source material’s canon aside in favour of setting up its own canon, wherein everyone acknowledges the canon of the source material in such cases is secondary and/or does not matter. Other fanfics, such as your fic series, map directly onto the source material (as well as having its own consistent canon) and therefore must appease “canon”, “willing suspension of disbelief”, etc. on both fronts, sometimes/usually keeping the two completely aligned.

And for me it wavered in both realms, which is preposterous. There is no basis whatsoever on which to consider this “OOC” because I cannot claim to know more than the author who wrote it, and I knew this. And besides, I wanted this anyway. I wanted to take this and add it to the canon of the series but because it was just SO good… Too good…! I couldn’t help questioning it like, “can I… can I really have this? Can I take this? This super awesome moment it’s… Can I really? There must be some kind of mistake, it’s way too good, I…!”

And then I pulled myself in line and told myself, You Know What? This is an awesome moment and I refuse to question it. I refuse to ruin my own fun. I’m taking it. I’m taking it because it’s fun. I’m taking it and running with it BECAUSE it’s so good and I love it and I shall not let it be cast aside. And I Shall relax and enjoy this for all it’s worth. Crush Thy Inner Killjoy.

I’M JUST. Not used to letting myself accept & enjoy things like this to this extent I guess, and that’s why…!

Sometimes I think about this scene and just lose it and oh my gosh. The phantom really did that. Awesome. Thank you.

Me: [regains composure after typing all that, continues reading when…]

TOTALLY FORGOT ABOUT HIM STICKING HIS TONGUE OUT OK I’M GONE AGAIN BYE AHAH

I’ve written up some stuff already for the next chapters too, but I’ll leave em for the next post~!

#long post #@followers follow the links. read this series.#if u havent

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