#I might… toy around with the idea of trying Genis at some point
Text
(ooc: Anyway, replaying Symphonia and I can’t stop comparing Lloyd and Genis to Sonic and Tails. Just that jock and genius dynamic I guess?? And also Genis having the same voice actress as Tails also helps.
I also keep feeling really bad for Genis when Raine smacks him I didn’t remember her doing that to him as often as she seems to??)
#ooc#mun rambles#I might… toy around with the idea of trying Genis at some point#maybe as a test muse#Idk we’ll see what happens I need to finish this playthrough first
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
AI-ssues
I keep starting this post, and reality keeps overtaking it, so I’m hoping what I write remains pertinent by the time you read it.
As far as the issue of so-called AI “creativity” (art / music / writing) is concerned, the genie not merely escaped the bottle but the bottle got sent to the recycling plant and converted into a cell phone.
Sold by the genie.
AI is here now and there’s no dodging that fact. It won’t go away, it isn’t going to collapse the way cryptocurrency and NFTs collapsed.
(Actually, what collapsed was speculation in cryptocurrency and NFTs; the underlying blockchain technology that made them possible is still being used by banks and businesses in a non-speculative manner.)
AI already impacts us (i.e., both the public at large and creators in particular) so we might as well look at the implications.
AI devalues talent, skill, and knowledge
When asked, I tell people I can be considered an artist only insofar as I put marks on paper and a cartoonist only insofar as people can guess what those marks represent.
What I lack in skill and talent, however, I somewhat compensate for by learning from far better artists who demonstrated what makes certain artistic approaches better than others in given situations.
That makes me a pretty fair art editor because I can identify a problem on a page or in an illustration and explain it well enough for the artist to correct.
This is different from telling AI, “No, do it again.”
A human artist working for an AI prompt taskmaster would go insane, effort after effort rejected, being told to try and try again until the boss is happy.
That actually happened when I first started working at Ruby-Spears Productions. Joe Ruby bounced scripts back with nothing more detailed than FIX -- MAKE BETTER scrawled in red ink on the cover sheet.
AI creativity lowers the bar for human beings in all fields.
In fact, it lowers it so far as to make it flush with the floor.
Many AI prompters suffer the same mindset as the various suits we needed to deal with when creating shows.
People with the ability to veto, but a complete lack of vision to steer a project or the competency to course correct if needed.
And I’ll repeat what I’ve said elsewhere: I have no objection to AI creativity as a toy or a game, or using AI to fill in blank spots in a human executed project.
But as been demonstrated, AI doesn’t even require human beings to create finished product from scratch, not even to the most rudimentary point of coming up with a basic idea.
Not all people dream or imagine equally.
A significant portion of the population can’t mentally visualize anything.
Ask them to think of a horse and they can’t picture the animal in their head.
Most other humans conjure up some vague image of a horse, anything from a faint hazy outline or a somewhat cartoony image, but some can imagine a horse in photographic detail.
The same applies to all other human creative endeavors.
We are not all equal in the distribution of talent or the mastery of skills.
One can make the argument this is unfair, and from one perspective that’s true.
But eradicating all minimum standards may not unleash human creativity so much as hamper it.
For a big part of the 20th century, people presumed everyone dreamed in black and white.
Turns out this was a direct result of humanity adapting motion pictures and television as a primary for of visual input.
Until the late 1950s, most motion pictures released in the world were shot in black and white.
Color television didn’t become prevalent until the late 1960s / early 1970s.
For much of humanity, their dreams became limited by what they saw.
AI imagery may very well shape our culture in ways we cannot comprehend at this moment, not just in obvious ways such as subtle commercials and product placement, but in how we process what we view in the world around us.
AI images don’t merely devalue human talents and skills, by “creating” based solely on what has been done before, it undermines the development of new ideas and modes of expression.
Currently the most popular music of Spotify was recorded over 20 years ago.
The market for new music shrank when people could begin accessing anything they wanted whenever they wanted it.
The business model that made the promotion of new music profitable is being done in by an audience who only wants to hear what they always heard.
The same applies to films and other forms of creativity.
The financial model for film makers is currently best served by endless sequels / remakes / ripoffs.
It is possible to make a feature length film for just a few hundred dollars using iPhone technology and apps, but except for streaming services like YouTube or PornHub, very difficult to make enough to break even.
Mind you, in very many ways this is a good thing, return creativity to its amateur status, motivate by the desire to express ideas and moods, not to earn enough to live on.
But that’s the rub, ain’t it? How do we keep creative people creating and not wasting their time laboring for pennies on non-creative / non-productive on schlub work that does no one any good?
(And bit by bit the schlub work jobs will get replaced by AI as well, so what do we do then? Marx may get the last laugh after all.)
AI devalues identity
One huge problem racing towards the major corporations like a runaway freight train powered by Saturn 5 boosters remains the issue of copyright / trademarks / fair use.
If I draw a cartoon of Mickey Mouse making a satirical statement of some sort, I can get away with it under what’s commonly considered “fair use”; i.e., the right of any creator to comment on the work of another creator in what is called a “transformative manner.”
That’s what I do with my illustration fictoids: I take old advertising / pulp magazine / comic book / etc. illustrations and add (hopefully) funny captions to them, typically changing or subverting the meaning of the original.
This is what MAD magazine did with their famous movie and song satires.
It’s what porn does when they release XXX-rated versions of hit films.
It’s what Weird Al does when he parodies pop music.
It’s long been considered a legitimate artistic / creative expression -- only it’s never been fully vetted in court!
Nobody ever officially drew the line.
Disney infamously went after the Air Pirates -- a scruffy band of underground comix artists in the early 1970s -- when they released their second Mickey Mouse comic book parody.
The House of Mouse claimed once was fair usage, but twice infringed on their copyright and trademark, and they subsequently prevailed in court.
But even though they won a substantial punitive penalty against the Air Pirates, the House of Mouse didn’t dare collect because over 80 other underground comix artists vowed to do their own one-shot parodies of Mickey if Disney didn’t let the Air Pirates off the hook.
Rather than endure a tsunami of Mouse-related porn parodies, Disney agreed not to collect on the legal judgment against the Air Pirates.
If 80 scruffy underground cartoonists could intimidate the House of Mouse, how can they stand against literally millions of AI prompters?
AI devalues emotion
AI images aren’t created by cutting and pasting elements of different works together.
Rather, it analyzes a vast repository of images and breaks them down into different categories representing different values.
A picture of a banana, for example, contains information of the shape of a banana, the color, the surface texture, etc., etc., and of course, etc.
And not just simple basics like “bananas are yellow” but exactly which shades of yellow, the hues as it ripens and rots, and enormous number of distinctive informational bits that AI can breakdown faster than a human being could.
Prompt AI to do something different with it -- “Show me a five day old pink banana” -- and it will search and combine all those elements with the new required information.
A creative human mind does exactly the same thing, only it seems instinctual in comparison because we do not break down every image we encounter into hundreds of distinct data points even though we recognize those data points subconsciously.
This is where human emotion adds value to a work.
The challenge for the trademark owners cited above is that in its sampling, AI can take all the elements that make a trademark or brand identity recognizable yet put them together in a manner that differs enough from the original that make infringement difficult to prove.
AI can issue an endless stream of knockoffs in blinding fast fashion, easily overwhelming and subverting the original IP’s identity and value.
Currently AI never responds twice to the exact same prompt with identical output.
This is a bug that will be addressed shortly; you want the ability to stay on model from iteration to iteration. Coming up with the ability to say to AI “take this particular character and have them ride this particular bicycle down this particular street” will make sequential story telling far easier.
Right now AI images -- regardless of apparent skill level -- are as artistic as a Rorschach ink blot.
As one wag observed when astronomer Percival Lowell and others claimed to find canals on Mars, the canals were doubtlessly the product of intelligent beings, the real question resting on which end of the telescope those beings sat.
As noted above, AI deals card until it delivers a perfect hand. Each card in and of itself is no different in value than any other card in the deck.
From AI’s point of view, 52 jokers are no different than a regulation deck.
The value of any 5 cards rests entirely upon the value human beings place upon it.
Different games with different rules present different values, even when using the same deck of cards.
In many ways, AI images -- and stories, and music -- are no different from those mass produced paintings one finds in home décor stores.
“Oh, look at that one, with the nice big orange sunset. That will go just lovely against our teal living room wall.”
There’s nothing wrong with that, you’re certainly entitled to decorate your home in a manner that pleases you.
But there’s nothing unique about it, either.
AI is the 21st century version of Bob Ross
It’s fun, it produces pleasing works, it gives the minimally talented and woefully underskilled a chance to feel creative.
But it ain’t art.
Bob Ross deservedly stands out today as a popular pop culture icon, but I challenge anyone to name a single painting of his that’s memorable on its own.
Those paintings of his that sell to collectors do so as artefacts of the man, not as works worthy on their own.
AI can do many things well, but they’re all surface, not substance.
It has a brain…
…but no heart.
© Buzz Dixon
0 notes
Text
True Colors
Looking at my old messages from FF.net, I found this old descendants story so I decided why not, I'll post it. Heavily inspired by @screaminginternallyalleternity's Jane characterization and JanexCarlosxJay ship. Mainly cuz I had been messaging her. Anywho, hope y'all enjoy.
"So what do you say?" Jordan asked taking a huff of silph.
"It's funny." Jane smiled dreamily, her mind already wandering off as the effects of the silph relaxed her. Though she was sharing her room right kow, she felt at peace and alone, and safe.
"No no" Jordan said waving her hand as if to clear the fumes "I'm serious, we should go to the homecoming dance as ourselves. Our natural forms."
Jane was tempted to roll her eyes at Jordan's ridiculous idea. Go to the dance in their real forms. Ones that were technically "banned" because of how obvious they were magical. Ones that she hid all these years.
She wanted to roll her eyes but Jordan was being oddly insistant about it.
"Why?" Jane asked, evading having to answer or even think about her playing a role in this scheme. She couldn't. She never showed her form to anyone. Her blue freckles were disguised with concealer, her wings and tattos carefully hidden through clothes in which she had never taken them off ever.
"Just for fun. To show those stupid mortals what they are missing? How dare they make us hide what we really are and suppress ourselves." Jordan snorted, clearly gearing up for her usual rant against mortals and the magic ban. "So worried about what we could do to them. How we are technically better than them, hotter than them"
"That's just the silph talking" Jane said softly but already she could feel her panic coming. Barely but it was there. The silph was suppressing it making a odd conflicted emotion.
She felt like she was about to drown, her head trying to reach the surface for a breath of frenetic air and energy but also underwater where it was calm and still.
"No, I thought of doing it before...Non-silph talking. Zoning out during class and stuff."
"Really?" Jane said, trying to keep the conversation heading back to her.
"Yeah. Like one time when I was 13, I had really considered it. Sorta stupid and immature. I wanted to show up Audrey. You know, because of how she is always bragging how she is the prettiest and the fairest. Also I used to have a crush on Ben."
"You had a crush on Ben" Jane murmured.
She never would have guessed, Jordan didn't seem the type. She always figured she would be with a more confident, brash person. And a Fae at that too considering how she always complained of mortals.
"Ben's...Ben. He's so generous and caring. Unselfishness, such a turn on." Jordan sighed wistfully.
"If it's just for the dates, you shouldn't do it." Jane advised.
"But it's not just the guys. It's showing off to the girls too. It's an ego boost. Aren't you tired of being ignored, and considered to be plain when you just KNOW that you could top those mortal girls any day of the week." Jordan protested.
Jane blanched. No! That sounded horrible. It was enough people thought of her as a freak and avoided her now. Not that she wanted to hang out with others and their shallowness. She didn't want people to look at her like she was some sort of object. Her form wasn't even that pretty.
"But but it looks weird, it's not pretty." She said.
"Please." Jordan scoffed. But seeing Jane's uncertainty she changed to a softer tone.
"Even if you don't think so. The mortals will. I mean I have bright pink skin for goodness sake" she pulled at her pink streaks "That doesn't look good but the people think it's hot as hell. It's because we are Fae. It's a novelty, we are exotic and exotic is erotic. It reminds them of who we actually are. Magical, mysterious, thus incredibly unattainable and sexy."
Jane looked down nervously, taking long calming breaths. "I'm not doing it."
To Jane, this step of showing off was too overwhelming and intimate. Her wings, her tattoos were personal. Whenever she did unfurl her wings alone she felt exposed but free because she was alone.
To do that with people staring at her would be unthinkable and clustraphobic. These over-entitled royals would see her as exotic alright. A exotic toy or object to be touched and viewed over. Just more bullying over why Jane wouldn't serve them or help them.
Jordan frowned, "I was hoping but I figured you wouldn't. Oh well better yet to make a solo entrence. With your lithe curves you might have taken even more attention than me. After all people wouldn't expect you to do it."
Jane sighed. No they wouldn't and she was perfectly fine with playing up to THAT expectation.
Two weeks later was the homecoming dance and Jane waited nervously outside the courtyard doors for her dates, Jay and Carlos. It was the second dance they were coming all together and she felt as fluttery as she did the first time.
They made her feel normal in a way. They all had issues but they understood each other. She felt safe, and even if people stared at the threesome she didn't care. The people that mattered to her were with her.
As she waited patiently for the two to show up, she looked around at the expanse of darkness.
How things had changed.
She wouldn't have gone to one of these events last year. Too boring. But now with the incursion of VKs there were quiet a few changes even some repeals of the magic ban even though she had disapproved Mal's actions in ignoring the ban and giving magic and an even worse rep.
From the corner of her eye, she saw one of the ornately shaped hedges rustling and went over to it.
She saw Jordan applying the finishing touches of black lipstick as she stared into a compact mirror.
"Hey,” Jane waved.
"Oh hi,” Jordan said distractedly.
"Are you still doing your big entrance?" Jane asked shyly. Even though Jordan seemed fine showing off her form, it still felt like an intimate act to Jane so she felt that it and to be whispered with the respected amount of privacy.
"Yeah," Jordan clipped her compact shut, and transformed.
Jane tried not to be so obvious in her astonishment but her mouth dropped open anyway.
She could see what Jordan meant by the pink skin looking odd but at the same time, it was incredibly alluring.
Her hair had lost its' pink streaks and was out of the usual ponytail in long pure black waves. The hair itself looked like it was constantly moving in slow-motion as if she was underwater.
Her eye were still light blue but now circled with azure. Same blue eyeshadow with three distinctive spots over her left eye. Her black lips provided a contrast to the skin.
The rest of her body had changed as well. A more pronounced curvy figure to say the least. The light green sleeveless tube top was cut off at the midriff and Jane secretly wondered how the hell it was holding up Jordan's pronounced bust considering that it looked like it was one jump away from popping out completely.
Magic she supposed.
Meanwhile her matching skirt laid loosely over her now obvious hips, and where her legs were, now was a smokey wave as if she had just emerged from a lamp.
Jordan had also highlighted her look with shiny jewels that Agrabah was famous for. A diamond/emerald necklace. An amber jewel coming from her belly ring. Tiny ruby, amethyst and Amber jewels decorating the dress itself in patterns. Plus the golden cuff links genies were known by.
It was an awe-ing sight altogether and she couldn't or wanted to look away from how Jordan moved and glistened.
"So that dress..interesting," Jane said.
Jordan tugged on her pointed ear with it's single gold hoop, "I'm the embodiment of wish fulfillment. You learn to deal with the no clothes thing."
Jane merely nodded than comment, "It's cool that you're doing this. I just wouldn't...it's scary."
"I know, I'm scared too." Jordan said which took Jane aback. She had showed no fear throughout this whole thing.
"You think I don't know what might happen. Being objectified, moreso than usual. More demands for wishes. The usual entitled mortal comments. People that forgot how magical I am will remember, and want favors. Trust me. I'm sticking by Aziz or Ben the entire night. No casual one night stands today."
"You don't have to do it." Jane assured her.
"I'm going to." Jordan said firmly "Even though I hate how people see me. I hate hiding who I am even more. Hiding magic is painful, and using silph is okay but still that is a small consolation. There has to be more."
Jane thought of Starlight Valley with her father. How wonderful it was.
"Good luck then" Jane murmered as Jordan started toward the door. Then paused to pull up Jordan's tube top up a little more so the bust was safely cradled in them. Even though it still looked a bit unlikely to stay that way.
"Thanks. Have fun tonight." Jordan said and went inside.
Jane resumed her position outside but couldn't ignore the pounding wave of thoughts she felt from inside. As well as the actual noise of whistles and catcalls.
Jane sighed and summoned some courage and wiped off the concealer from her cheeks as Carlos and Jay ambled toward her. The move revealed her light blue freckles that danced across here face.
"Hi Jane" Carlos smiled with a hint of nervous excitement. His bright white teeth made an unconscious smile dance across her lips.
"Pretty" Jay, ever the blunt one, poked at her cheek, to which Jane playfully swatted his hand away.
"Have you always had them?" Carlos asked as he took her hand.
"Yeah" Jane bit her lip, smiling.
"They're pretty" Carlos complimented "They match your eyes."
Jane nodded her head bs shrilly and grabbed Jay's hand to head inside.
#jordan#jane#fairygodmother#disney descendants#carlos de’vil#jay#son of jafar#true colors#my fanfic#my fanfiction#d1#poly#jaynlos
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Session Fifteen - Betrayal!
Ditched by their supposed friend Zanthia in the middle of what turned out to be a bank heist, the party finds themselves in a smoke-filled corridor, with a large, angry gentleman in armour demanding their surrender. At his back stand two guards; a mage; Wandbutt; and, outside the door, a peaky Herrington.
With limited options available, the group decides to stand and fight.
Kadis is the first to move, sneaking into the middle of the thick smoke to contemplate his next action. While he cannot see the enemy from this position, they also cannot see him - giving him the advantage.
The knight - Sir Beeswax Halffeather, according to his own pompous declaration - becomes frustrated by the poor visibility, and makes a grab at the only person he can see - Julius. Fortunately, now back in his Otter form - Zanthia’s magic having expired upon her departure - Julius manages to slip the knight’s grasp.
Now even more annoyed, Beeswax calls out to Herrington, telling the nauseated wretch to blow on his horn for reinforcements. He follows the orders, and miraculously manages to not vomit.
Cailynn follows Kadis’ lead and sneaks into the smoke, followed by the tiny wyvern Moo. Julius also has his eyes on the smoke and dips in too. However, he takes a hefty blow from Beeswax straight across the back.
Reeling from the injury, Julius spins around and summons up a wave of druidic power, targeted at the spot he just left. Water rises up from nowhere, and slams hard into the knight, one of the unnamed guards, and Wandbutt.
Beeswax and the guard brace against the water, and though the damage is enough to knock the guard out, the knight barely flinches. Wandbutt, however, is knocked backwards. He lands heavily on his posterior, winces, and expires with a complex look on his face.
Talion steps forth now. After passing a Healing Word to Julius, he shifts to the edge of the smoke and trains his shortbow on the mage in the corner. The arrow finds its mark, leaving a deep gash along the mage’s face. As the spellcaster turns his head slowly back towards the Half-Elf, he mutters an incantation, and a ball of flame appears at his fingertips, which he then launches Talion’s way.
Fortunately for most of the team, the blast’s range is too short to reach them. Sadly, Talion and Julius are not as lucky. They dodge the worst of the damage, but still take a very unpleasant singeing.
As the last surviving unnamed guard stands slack-jawed at the carnage [DM’s note: I totally forgot to give him a turn], Oddsock rushes forth into the smoke, raring to get involved in the action. Before he can do so, however, Kadis hones in on the location of the knight, and shows him who’s boss.
It turns out that Beeswax is boss. All of Kadis’ deft monk attacks glance off the suit of armour - unlike Beeswax’s greatsword, which leaves deep gashes across fragile Human flesh. Good job he recently changed into a red outfit, really.
Cailynn dips out of the smoke now, and throws out one of Melf’s famous Acid Arrows right into the knight’s smug face. Acid gets right into he helmet, causing a surprising amount of damage - bolstered by the Mote of Creation. Moo attempts a follow-up, but misses. Silly Moo.
Attracted by the commotion, Julius rushes through the smoke, colliding with Kadis. He puts his healing paws on the monk, and channels his druidic magic at the highest power he can muster, knitting the wounds almost entirely.
Talion nocks another arrow to his bow and fires it at the knight, but Beeswax’s armour is too thick for him to notice.
Someone who does notice, however, is the mage. Since he can now see more of the group, he triangulates a second Fireball to catch all of the visible miscreants. The blast hits hard and true - even Oddsock does not escape - and the damage is extensive. Whilst most of the group stays upright, Talion, sadly, does not. He falls to the ground, unconcious.
The forgotten guard, deciding that he is extraneous to requirements, slips outside to find out what is keeping Herrington and the reinforcements. Herrington blows the horn again, and feels an unpleasant sensation in the back of his breeches.
Things are looking bleak for our heroes, but fate had not accounted for an angry Golden Retriever with crispy fur. Calling upon the unholy powers of his patron, Oddsock fights fire with fire, in the most literal sense.
The effect is horrifying. The guard in the doorway is immediately reduced to ash, and Herrington follows shortly after, with just enough time to regret lying about killing a dragon.
Beeswax is partially cooked inside his armour, and collapses into a heap, while the mage barely stays standing. This is only a temporary matter, though, as a sharp whack from Kadis’ quarterstaff rattles his head off the back wall, and the floor makes another new friend.
A moment of peace follows, allowing the team to take stock and assist their injured members. Cailynn uses Spare The Dying on Talion to stabilise him, and Julius follows up with some healing magic to get him back on his feet. Talion pays it forward by decanting a healing potion into his special cup and passing it to Kadis.
Unfortunately, the downtime is brief, as the reinforcements arrive. Oddsock peeks out the door to see seven more guards, and two lumbering clay golems with guard uniforms painted on.
The group weighs up their options. A suggestion to return to the vaults and pretend to be hostages is mooted, but eventually disregarded as the approaching aggressors make it clear that they somehow are aware of who the group are, and what they are doing.
Next suggestion is to stand and fight. A good idea, perhaps, for a time when spell slots are less depleted, and the threat of further reinforcements is less pressing.
Julius presents one more option - running away. The group of bold adventurers baulk at this initially, but then accept that retreat may be best. Off under a tree outside, Storm Hellflayer loudly concurs, though only Oddsock and Julius are aware.
Though they are fleeing, the team are damned if they are going to go out without a bang. The offensive is lead by Cailynn, who flips up a rock from the pathway and flings it magically into Beeswax’s face, just as he was beginning to regain consciousness. The charred High Elf slumps back to the ground with a whimper.
Oddsock has more dramatic ideas. As his companions dash to the horses, he unleashes another fireball at the approaching guards. Three of them are immediately vapourised, and another three are knocked unconscious, along with two guard horses.
Spoiler - The horses eventually recover entirely from their injuries, and later enjoy telling the story to their three friends, Horse, Horse and Horse.
As the ground sizzles, the gang mounts the five horses they parked up earlier, with Julius drawing the Storm straw. With one last Eldritch Blast from Oddsock laying waste to the final guard, the group makes good their escape.
As they gallop further north, horns sound behind them, but begin to fade. The forest gets thicker, and the path patchier, and after a short while they decide to slow down. They are safe, for now.
As the horses walk along, their riders look about. Mostly they just see forest. Even Julius’ expert eye for this kind of terrain sees nothing of note. Cailynn, though, sees a crow.
And the crow sees her.
Alighting from its branch, the crow lands atop Cailynn’s horse’s head, and begins tapping its beak against its own leg. Around this leg is tied a small piece of paper.
With care, Cailynn removes the paper, and the crow taps her hand and flies away. Unfurling it, she reads the note to herself:
Looks like you’ve got yourself in some trouble, kitten. Keep going north east and ask for Ebeneezer. He’ll take care of you.
At the bottom of the paper is a symbol - a circle with two triangles above it, side by side and pointing upward. Cailynn knows exactly what this means, and who the note is from.
Making a decision to share the more pertinent information with the party, she tells them that the note is from a friend, who can be trusted. Since they have no better leads, they head north east.
Before long, daylight all but disappears, and the party makes camp. Julius gathers up some nutritious leaves and berries, and Rupert the fey weasel clambers up a tree to keep lookout for pursuers.
As they settle down, Cailynn starts the work of recreating Moo, and Julius asks Talion what Zanthia might have meant by ‘Dragonboy’. He takes a deep breath, and tells the group more about his history.
While his father was indeed a High Elf, his mother was a dragon - a Song Dragon more specifically, and perhaps the last one left in the world. Throughout his life, his family was pursued, which left his father dead and his mother missing, but not before she could magically transport him away in a bolt of lightning.
Talion holds up the jagged piece of obsidian that hangs from his neck, beside his silver dragon scale. This is his memento of that day - fused sand from the black Elsian beach where he found himself.
The mood grows a little sombre, broken only by a squeaking from Oddsock’s pack. He pulls out Tim the chewy dragon toy and has a gnaw, and is immediately dragged from this reality to a little hipster pocket dimension.
Oddsock’s patron stands ready sum up the situation. Yes, being betrayed was bad, but pretty much everything else was brilliant - especially making all those guards explode.
Best of all, though, is the book. Across its cover, the word Sre’Yalp glows faintly with magical potential. Inside, however, the writing is indecipherable, shifting constantly into different languages, then somehow all languages at once. Trying to read just a single sentence induces terrible eye strain, even for a powerful genie.
One thing that is easily legible is a bookplate, pasted on to the first page. It reads, in Common and all capitals:
PROPERTY OF REMINI BENSK SOTS
Warlock and patron look blankly at each other. Clearly more information is required.
Before sending Oddsock on his way, his patron bestows a little more power on him, with a gentle nose boop. Oddsock’s lustrous golden fur crackles with potential, becoming more resistant to fire damage. Furthermore, his paws tingle and he unexpectedly finds himself floating.
Oddsock bobs around the pub for a few minutes while his patron tried to give him steering advice. After watching his charge paddling furiously while his tail helicopters ineffectively, the genie shrugs and sends his floating four legged friend back out into the world.
Oddsock thankfully reacquaints himself with the ground - still upside down - just in time for bed, under the watchful eyes of Rupert and the new and improved Moo. The adventurers settle down to an uneventful night, though Talion does have several thrashy rage dreams about a certain Halfling. Thankfully, he is sleeping alone on this night.
Come the morn, the team breaks up camp and strikes back out. After a few hours, they find themselves at a clearing, and staring down the shaft of a drawn arrow. At the feather-end stands a Wood Elf, dressed all in black, demanding to know why they are there.
Cailynn steps forth and presents the note. The black-clad figure peruses the note, then Cailynn, then the note. After a few back-and-forths, the arrow is lowered, and the Wood Elf leads them further into the clearing.
Beside a fire sits an old, skinny Human with two left teeth. His clothes are flithy, and barely more than rags, but he carries a clear air of authority.
“My name is Ebeneezer Chaotic-Neutral,” he says, in a voice thick with tobacco and bad lifestyle choices. “Welcome to my camp.”
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐮𝐲
teacher!sicheng x single parent!reader | 2.9 k
summary: the moment a new teacher becomes your 6-year old son’s homeroom teacher, the more he talks about this infamous ‘Mr. Dong.’ Who the fuck is this Mr. Dong, and most importantly, why is your son calling him dad?
warnings: cursing, reader is not really in their best state
note: a few chinese terms are used throughout the oneshot. i think most of you will get it, but to be on the safe side: mama means mum, and baba means dad.
Mother knows best. Mother knows best. Mother knows best. That’s what you thought at least. Having to raise your own child after your ex-boyfriend left you because he couldn’t take the idea of him being a father, that’s when you decided to raise your son independently and to make him smart and learn sympathy. That obviously meant having to work twice as hard to ensure he goes to a good school with quality education, and to also have bread and butter on the table, as well as to pay for the unnecessarily expensive rent in Beijing. And of course, gender inequality and misogyny is still a thing— so that’s great. You were just glad your son, Weimin, is just a naturally happy and curious boy. At times he can ask too many question to a point where you just want to pull your own hair out, but it also means that his brain is functioning and will most likely have a natural attraction towards learning. Or so you hope.
‘Weimin, we’ve got to go to school, let’s go!’ You shouted for your son who was probably deciding which type of pencils to bring to school. You were definitely not the reason to why he has become overly organised at the age of 6. Please note the sarcasm.
And there he was, running towards you with his bright orange backpack with his jet black hair neatly fixed—thanks to you— smiling widely at his mother. Weimin’s smile was similar to the way he used to smile, his dimple exactly on the same spot as him. You had a beautiful kid, and he had the warmest heart for a 6-year old. But he also looked so much like him, and you weren’t exactly sure how you felt about it.
He hurt you. He said he’ll always be by your side. He said no matter what happens to you, he’ll be there to catch you and hold you. He lied. He fucking lied.
‘Māmī let’s go to school, I arranged all of pencils by height in my pencil case this morning!’ Snapping out of your thoughts, your boy was looking up at you, his small hands wrapping three of your fingers in his, pulling you towards the door. Following your son immediately, you tried to shake your thoughts off about him, knowing it is not the best for your mental health, and definitely not for your kid.
‘Y-you’re pregnant?’ Yixing asks, eyes wider than usual. Well of course you got pregnant, you two were drunk off your asses, and had sex without protection, and he came inside you.
‘Yes Yixing, for the nth time, I am pregnant! We can’t do anything about it, we have to tell our parents and—‘
‘Abort the baby.’ What?
‘E-excuse me? You don’t have the right to tell me what to do with the baby, it’s in my body’ you retorted, not clearly understanding why your boyfriend would say that. You were thinking of keeping the baby; sure the two of you were young, but it wasn’t that you had no money or such to raise the baby. Your parents and friends may be surprised, and maybe disappointed, but you knew that your real friends will support you no matter what, and so will Yixing.
‘You don’t understand ________, taking care of a baby is a huge responsibility. We’re just 21 years old, what do we know about parenting? And what will our parents say? They’ll also force you to abort the kid, and it’ll just take a toll on your mentality, do you want to go through that?’
‘Y-you always said y-you’ll have my back Yixing…’
‘That’s because a baby wasn’t on the pla—’
‘Earth to _______?’ What?
It was your colleague, Kyulkyung. She looked concerned and confused, but mostly concerned. ‘Babe, I think you’re doing it again’ she says, leaning against your table.
‘I don’t know why I just can’t stop thinking about it, but I swear I’m fine. Is there anything you want me to do?’ You ask, avoiding the subject. She was going to the say the exact same thing as before: go get psychiatric help. You don’t undermine psychiatrists or anything, they’re amazing and do help people get better. But you didn’t think that yours was that big of an issue. It happened 6 years ago; sure your mind naturally goes back to the scene, but it’s not like it affects your life with your son is affected because of it.
‘_______, why is it hard to ask for help? If it’s because nobody will take care of Weimin, I’ll do it.’
‘Kyulkyung you hate children’
‘Yes, but I can learn to love them starting with your adorable, lovely, sweet, intelligent Weimi—‘
‘Kyulkyung you called children mini monsters that rips its way out of a vagina to contaminate the world’
‘—and way to ruin the mood. But seriously, it happened 6 years ago and if you’re still spacing out like this and stopping you from doing shit, it won’t harm going for help’ she says, looking directly at your eyes. You could tell she meant every word, and that she actually cares for your wellbeing. You sighed at her, resting your back flat against the office chair.
‘Exactly, it happened 6 years ago. I don’t want to bother them with something that happened 6 years ago. They’ll ask questions which I can’t even remember because I was too busy being sad and pissed, but I’m raising my son pretty well now. He is happy and healthy. So, did you need me for something or were you here to persuade me for the 4th time this month?’ You asked, looking up at her face. She took a deep breath, knowing that you weren’t going to give in anytime soon.
‘Okay fine, I’ll try again next week. But someone named Mr. Dee called, and wants you to come to school because your ‘happy and healthy’ son keeps calling his homeroom teacher dad and it’s been happening for 2 weeks.’ What the fuck—
The last thing you wanted to do today was to be in the principal’s office with your son playing in the back, his new homeroom teacher, and the principal to talk about your worst nightmare— daddy issues. Weimin did ask where his father was when he was 4, and you just laid out the truth on him that, ‘baba is not coming back because he decided to go somewhere else.’ A 6-year old wouldn’t be able to understand how shit people can be and just go against their word. So yes, he went somewhere.
‘Ms. _________, as you would’ve known Mr. Dong is your son’s new homeroom teacher, and he has been called ‘baba’ many times for the past 2 weeks,’ Mr. Dee, the old balding guy in front of you explains, pointing his stubby fingers towards the rather young good-looking man standing on the side of the room. You gave him a small nod, unsure of how exactly to approach the fact that your son is calling this random hottie ‘baba.’ And no, you will not admit that you just used the H-word to describe a teacher you’ve never met before. The man on the side cleared his throat, uncrossing his arms.
‘Good afternoon Ms. ________, I am Mr. Dong, and I am your son’s homeroom teacher’
‘Yes, we got that clear thank you.’ What did your son see in him?
‘Uh, yes. It’s completely normal for kids to accidentally call their teacher ‘baba’ or ‘mama,’ but this has been happening for a period of 2 weeks, and I was wondering if there are some problems that are happening at home? I know it is not my right to interfere in family matters as a teacher, but Weimin is just a young boy and correcting him to calling me Mr. Dong is taking longer than expected’ he says, talking to you in the calmest tone you’ve ever heard coming for a man. Then again, he just said something about your home life. It wasn’t as if Mr. Dee didn’t know your circumstances, and he did looked quite a bit surprised once the teacher guy began talking. Such a fucking waste for a pretty face.
‘Mr. Dong, actually—‘ you interrupted him before he could continue. If you were about to tell your personal circumstances to this newbie, might as well do it from your own mouth. ‘It’s okay Principal Dee, I can explain to my son’s homeroom teacher—‘
‘Māmī I rearranged my pencils by the height of the erasers at the butt of the pencil!’ Your son shouted from the back in nothing but excitement, only to earn a chuckle from the man you are about to inform.
‘Good job Weimin, and don’t say butt ever again please, it’s a very ugly word.’
‘Okay!’
‘Anyways, I am a single mother who got impregnated by a trashy man so yes, he grew up without a father Mr. Dong.’ Every word you said only made his eyes wider and wider. God did you love seeing that whenever you explained your story to someone who has no idea of who you are. ‘I am sorry that my kid has been calling you “baba,” so don’t worry, I’ll tell him to stop once we’re both at home and ensure that he’ll call you Mr. Dong from tomorrow onwards. Will that be alright Mr. Dong?’
‘I-I’m so sorry Ms. _________ I d-didn’t know, I sincerely ap-poligise. And yes, anytime is fine.’ And it was just apologies after apologies from both the principal and Mr. Dong. Well, that’s over with the adults, and now it’s time for your kid.
Weimin usually stays in the daycare service provided by the school until you were done with work which is about 6 in the afternoon. Well 5:30 pm actually, but you needed a good amount of time to yourself too because it’s not easy being a working single mother. You wanted nothing but happiness for your kid. He likes going to school, he enjoys playing with the toy Genie you got him for his 4th birthday, and he also likes organising writing materials in whatever order he is thinking of. Though, you do blame yourself for the last one considering how strict you were with making sure everything is organised wherever you walk. One thing you could not understand was Weimin calling his new teacher ‘baba.’
Your son knew his father went somewhere, and it wasn’t a lie. You also had no pictures of that man around your apartment, and even if you did, Yixing looked nothing like that teacher guy. Sitting on the couch, you see your boy taking out his diary, reading the assignments he has due tomorrow, as if he really can when he’s just in the first grade. And there goes that smile— it looked exactly like him.
‘That’s because a baby wasn’t on the plan _________. You’re not thinking straight, and I’m sorry but if you’re going to keep that thing, I can’t help you.’ Everything was going too fast, you couldn’t understand anything. Why was he so against you? Why did he lie to you about having your back at all times? Why does he have to be like this now?
‘B-but Yixing, let’s t-talk out for a bit. A baby isn’t a bad idea, and we can work this out. T-trust me on this, I have the funds, a-and—‘
‘We’re done _________. I’m sorry.’ Even after 6 years, those 5 words stuck with you as you and your child grow older. You knew you needed help. You knew you needed it.
You couldn’t do it. You didn’t him to talk about his father problem. Is he being bullied in school since he has no dad? Is father’s day coming up? Why didn’t you come up with this earlier when you were called in by the school? Why are you always so slow with everything _________?
You picked up your phone, texting Kyulkyung to watch over your son for a bit, despite knowing that she absolutely hates children. But hey, she called your son lovely— that deserves a bit of trust. You needed fresh air. You needed to be alone and think properly without hurting your son. You were already hurt enough, and your boy doesn’t deserve to be hurt.
Lights reflected against the river, creating a gorgeous blend of yellows, pinks, and blues dancing to the soft ripples caused by the wind. There’s just a naturally calming vibe with rivers; the soft breeze, the slow movements of the water— it’s a shame that rivers are continuously being polluted.
‘Ms. ______?’ What the fuck?
It was Dong Sicheng. Or perhaps your son’s ‘baba.’ He was a handsome man, and the lights shining gently on his skin definitely did not help increase your expected annoyance and hatred towards this man. Was he following you?
‘Mr. Dong, or I guess my husband since my son calls you “baba.” What are the odds to see you on this fine evening…’ you sarcastically answered, leaning your forearms against the metal rail. You only earned a chuckle from him, his footsteps coming closer to you, eventually mimicking your current position.
‘I come here for a daily walk. Teaching primary students isn’t really easy, and it doesn’t hurt to have some fresh air. And if I may, what brings you here on this fine evening?’ He asks, imitating the exact tone of your response earlier.
‘Just thinking about what I did wrong raising my son… this just never happened before’ you quietly said, shortly followed by a laugh coming from you. You weren’t sure why you were laughing; you know it wasn’t an appropriate time to laugh considering how his face dropped as soon as you opened your mouth.
‘You didn’t do anything wrong, Weimin is a great kid. It’s my fault.’ Well this better be good. ‘It was my first day, and I asked the kids to draw the people they looked up the most. And just like any kid, I expected them to draw their parents, but Weimin only drew you—‘
‘As expected,’
‘—well yes, now I understand. So I asked him where his dad was, and he told me that he’s not at home. For some stupid ass reason, I thought Weimin meant that he goes to work so he doesn’t get see his dad as often so—‘
‘That is one fucking stupid reason, damn Mr. Dong, I expected better from you.’
‘Let’s have another time to talk about how shit of a person I am another time, and I’ll make sure to bring receipts for proof. Anyway, I didn’t want him to feel left out in the class since everyone, and literally everyone, drew both parents. Well, except one kid. She drew a polar bear, and I do not know why. Anyway, before anything could happen, he suggested that you know…’
‘That you could be his paternal figure in the picture, and you let him do it.’ Sicheng nodded at you as you finished his sentence, which only made you inhaled sharply. You barely know this man, and you feel that you need to tell him everything.
‘Zhang Yixing. That dirty son of a bitch left me once I got pregnant as 21, which is young I know but, there are younger mothers—‘
‘Not the point Ms. _______—‘
‘Shut the fuck up Sicheng, and stop the last name basis thing we’re not under school conditions for fuck’s sake. The only reason I didn’t want to do an abortion is because I have an ovulation disorder. I was too scared to tell anyone before that I had it because I didn’t want whoever my partner is to leave me because well, it’s not easy for me to get pregnant. And I also didn’t want to abort the baby because what if I never will have the chance again. I wanted to experience what it’s like to be a mother, and I did get that opportunity. Just not under the best circumstances,’ you said, your voice going lower and lower as you explained your story. There were medication to increase your fertility, but you didn’t know much before even if you were 21 that time. You were thinking of too many things then, you weren’t sure what you were doing for the most part.
‘I-I’m so sorry that happened to you… ________. I do not know what you are going through, but I can tell you do work very hard and want nothing but love for your son. You’re a great mother, and your hard work pays off. I do hope though that once Weimin is older, you have the courage to tell him the truth even if it will break his heart. Weimin is a happy and bright kid, though I am not sure how he so organised at such a young age, but so far, he grew up well. As his homeroom teacher, I just want you to know as a parent tha— are you crying?’ Yes I am, what else will you call heavy ass tears rolling off my face?
’N-no.’ Well that was a fail in trying to keep your voice stable.
He grabbed your shoulders, turning you to face him as he adjusts to your height. His warm brown eyes meeting yours; it was as if everything around you stopped. What the flipping fuck is happening.
‘You’re a great mother _______. Weimin is more than lucky to have you,’ Sicheng whispers as you tried to control your tears. Maybe, just maybe, you do not mind your son calling Sicheng baba anymore.
a/n: THIS BECAME MUCH MORE ANGSTY THAN I THOUGHT WEEEEEEEEE
#wayv#dong sicheng#sicheng#winwin#winwin x reader#winwin x you#oneshot#qian kun#kun#hendery#wong kunhang#xiaojun#xiao dejun#ten#chittaphon leechaiyapornkul#liu yangyang#yangyang#lucas#wong yukhei#nct#nct u#nct 127#nct dream#fluff#angst#slight crack#single parent au
98 notes
·
View notes
Text
Goodness and Love
Colloyd Week 2020, (Late) Day 6: “Goodness and love will always win.”
Words: 1778
Genre: Childhood Fluff
The moment Lloyd first fell in love with Colette was when he realized that she embodied the Dwarven Vows more perfectly than anyone he knew… and she didn’t even have to memorize them.
When Dirk had first insisted that Lloyd go to school, he resisted. Normally Lloyd only went into town only when the two of them needed supplies- he didn’t like being away from Noishe, but at least he had his dad with him. But at ten years old, Dirk decided that Lloyd was old enough to go back and forth to Iselia on his own and insisted that he enroll in the local school. “There’re things in this world ya need to know that I cannae teach ya,” he’d said, and while Lloyd was initially excited to interact with the other kids, that excitement faded quickly.
Lloyd was an outsider, unable to break into the already-established friend groups. He hadn’t had the same schooling they’d had, so he was behind in all of the lessons. And the teacher, an old man with a penchant for slapping hands with his wooden ruler, had no sympathy for those who fell behind. So, when after two long years, the teacher announced his retirement, Lloyd was the first one to wish him well. The young elf woman who replaced him was just as strict, but in Lloyd’s eyes, she was fair with her strictness. She tailored lessons and assignments to her students’ abilities and recognized their potential, and when she was strict with Lloyd, it was because she wanted him to succeed. She made coming to school so much easier.
It wasn’t the new teacher that improved things the most, however. It was the little elf boy who was now sitting in the first row. Lloyd hadn’t been the only loner, of course- the quiet, clumsy blonde girl who sat near the front was always looked at by her classmates with more reverence than friendship. But she was the Chosen, the one who would one day defeat the Desians and regenerate the world, and if the Iselian students weren’t worthy to speak to her, the Dwarven country boy shouldn’t even consider it. After one lunch period, Lloyd and the loudmouthed pipsqueak that the Professor had brought with her became fast friends. It made Lloyd feel bad for the lonely looking girl who shared her lunch with the local dogs instead of other kids.
Show-and-tell was one of Lloyd’s favorite school activities, where students had a chance to show off items from home. He’d already shown some of his craft projects in previous weeks, things like wood carving and carpentry that he’d learned from his dad. This time, to show off in front of the new teacher, he’d recited the first one-hundred and fifty Dwarven Vows. ...of course, he only got through one-hundred and twelve before Professor Raine cut him off for time, but he was proud of himself nonetheless. Genis, who’d assured Lloyd the day before that his show-and-tell would blow Lloyd’s out of the water, had given a pretty basic display of kendama tricks. Sure, the kendama was difficult to handle, but Lloyd felt certain he’d won.
Lloyd never got the chance to brag, though.
About halfway through the afternoon, one of the students in the middle of the classroom got caught playing with the slide puzzle he’d brought to show off. Raine was quick to confiscate it from him and scold him for not paying attention. He wasn’t going to take it lightly, though, and shot back a rebuttal.
“That’s not fair!” the boy protested, pointing to the front of the class at Genis. “You let him play with the kendama!”
Raine shook her head. “Genis’ kendama helps him focus. You, on the other hand, are being distracted. I’ll give you this back after class if you focus on the rest of the lesson.”
“....mmmhmmm…”
The boy sunk back into his chair, and Lloyd assumed that was the end of it. But after class, when Lloyd exited the schoolhouse, he saw the boy and a few of his pals standing over Genis. His blood boiled as he watched them push Genis to the ground.
“-think you’re so special just ‘cause you’re the teacher’s brother? Helps you focus, my ass!”
Genis was shielding his head, trembling as he tried to articulate a response. He had spirit for a seven-year-old, but even so, he was still too small to put up a decent fight without resorting to the magical spells his sister had forbidden him to use in the village. “I-it does! I-! I can’t-! I can’t pay attention without-!”
“Shut up!” Another of the boys started kicking. “When our parents hear about this favoritism, it’s over for you and your sister-”
“LEAVE HIM ALONE!”
Lloyd had been puzzling over what to do, and he was ashamed of his hesitation. It came from his dad’s repeated warnings not to get into a fight in the village- Dirk always said there was a reason “let’s all work together for a peaceful world” was the first Dwarven vow. However, another Dwarven vow, way up in the hundreds somewhere that Lloyd hadn’t memorized yet, said that “the first fault lies with he who commits and the second with he who permits.” If Lloyd did nothing, it would be just as bad as if he’d bullied Genis himself. And he could never do that to anyone, least of all his dear friend.
Lloyd grabbed the kicking boy and pulled him backward. The boy struggled against his grip, yelling something along the lines of “let go, you idiot hick Dwarf!” but Lloyd kept his grip firm. He waited for the original bully to come at him, but… he didn’t. Instead, there was a soft voice beside them that drew everyone’s attention.
“You guys… is everything okay?”
The surprise caused Lloyd to let go of the boy he was holding, and it gave Genis a chance to rise to his knees. “Colette!” the original bully gasped, taking a step back from Genis. “It’s not fair that this kid gets to play with toys in the classroom while nobody else does, right? You agree, right?”
Lloyd wasn’t used to hearing Colette’s voice, so he had no idea what he expected her to say. He was still surprised, though, when she completely dodged the question.
“You got new glasses, right? They look good.”
The bully appeared just as surprised, but his cheeks flushed and he smiled. “Yeah. My dad sent them from Palmacosta. They’re special order.”
“Can I see?” Colette held out her hands, and Lloyd fought back the urge to speak up. While she was distracting the others, Genis had taken the opportunity to flee back into the schoolhouse. Lloyd wanted to go comfort him, but he knew Genis’ sister could probably do a better job of both patching him up and comforting him, and his curiosity as to what Colette was trying to do was too strong.
The bully had handed his glasses over for Colette to examine, and she delightedly put them on, taking a moment to examine her surroundings. Her smile disappeared the longer she looked, however, and she let out a gasp.
“Whoa! These are… they’re not working right! I can’t see anything!” Colette removed the glasses again, looking them over. “Everything was so blurry. I couldn’t see people’s faces or read any of the signs. How can you even do schoolwork with these? I’m worried you could hurt yourself!”
The bully stepped toward her, holding out a hand. “No, see, they don’t work for everyone. They’re a special order for my eyes-”
“You need to get your dad to send them back! Tell him they made a mistake!” Colette held the glasses close to her chest. “I could do it. Maybe they’ll listen to me if I-”
The bully reached over, still vying for the glasses but trying not to touch her. “Everyone’s eyes are different. Glasses that work for my eyes might not work for someone else’s. My glasses are fine, okay?”
Colette’s smile returned in full force, with a look that gave Lloyd an odd, fluttery feeling in his stomach. She handed the glasses back with a nod.
“I get it. Everyone’s body is different. You have special glasses that help your eyes see, and the new kid has a toy that helps his brain focus. Thanks for teaching me about that- I can’t wait to tell the priests at the temple all about it!”
The bully’s face turned pale, as did those of his friends. They sent each other a look and then retreated.
“R-right…” The bully nodded and shot a glare toward Lloyd before running off. “...see ya tomorrow!”
There was a moment of quiet, the sounds of village life filling the space between them. Lloyd could feel his face heating up as he stared at the girl across from him, but she was distracted.
“-where did Genis go? Is he okay? I hope he’s not hurt too bad.”
“...that was really cool,” Lloyd finally spoke, though he processed what she’d said just a moment later. “I mean-! Genis went back into the school building. I’m sure the Professor is probably patching him up.”
“That’s a relief.” Colette sighed. “I still want to check on him, though. He’s so tiny, those guys could’ve really hurt him.”
“I wouldn’t have let that happen,” Lloyd replied, crossing his arms. “Picking on someone who can’t defend themselves is something only cowards do.”
“Is that a Dwarven Vow? You didn’t say it today in class.”
“No, it’s-” Lloyd stopped. “-wait, you were actually listening to those?”
“Of course!” Colette chimed. “They were all such good sayings. I loved all the ones about dogs.”
“There’s another one I didn’t get to. Dwarven Vow 132, feed a dog for three days and it’ll be grateful for three years.”
“Aw, that’s a good one!” The absolute joy in Colette’s voice made Lloyd briefly forget his concern for Genis, and he had to remind himself of the situation.
“Why don’t you come back into the school building? I want Genis and Professor Raine to know what you did for him.”
Colette twirled around toward the school. “I didn’t do anything special. It was you who stepped in. I was just thinking about your vows earlier. My favorite was the one toward the beginning… what was it… goodness and love will always win?”
“That one?! But it’s so cheesy-!”
His protest made Colette giggle, and the sound of her laughter sent another pang of emotion through Lloyd’s chest. He didn’t recognize it, but it felt good. No one had taken an interest in the Dwarven vows like that before, not even Genis. And, Colette may not know them all, but from what Lloyd could see, she embodied the heart of them.
He’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life.
19 notes
·
View notes
Note
" what's a brothel? do you think they'd give us some broth for free?"
THE MISDEMEANORS OF DUMB AND DUMBER — — — ( 1 / ?? )
two reactions hit him once immediately. the amusement comes first, the ever so familiar toothy grin brightening up his face as he gleefully wonders on which route of some fond toying around of playful teasing he can play along with Oliver. secondly, the concern causes a slight crinkle between his brows. where did he hear about the existence of brothels from ? did a worker from one try to approach him ? why did they not succeed in showing him that brothel indeed does not serve broth ? what was Oliver’s reaction to them — are they dead or painfully alive ? what kind of people has he been eavesdropping on or was it a potential client or was he attempting to unknowingly steal something from them ? Jaewoo has no idea but he isn’t too fussed to provide him with any crystal clear clarifications in a rush.
“ no Oliver they don’t serve you broth for free, you have to pay for it ! do you know how you pay for it though ? you have to give up your body for a free massage to one of the workers ! but only if they like your body then they take your hand and lead you to their magical room that has a big steaming pot of broth that cooks all day long for any of the people they think deserve a free cup of it. usually, they will ask you to do a dance cover or something to really show off your physical skills you know ? ” now with a sly grin, he taps on his chin as he gives the other’s chest a slight nudge. “ but we both know you can’t dance for shit so too bad Oli boy, you tried on getting us for free food but because you are so uncultured. I know my dance moves, I can even dance to girl group songs as well as boy groups because I know where my hips are and how you can use them besides aiming for destruction you know ? ugh, imagine all the free broth we could get if only you could decently dance a few moves to like girl generation’s “ genie ” but noooo ! we’re here BROTHLESS because you’re too angry to dance like a god ! ” at this point, he grabs hold of Oliver’s wrists firmly between his pinching grip so he. can start waggling his arms about in some sort of comical octopus inspired dance momentum.
“ anyways, I’m just kidding. ” he continues to dance about with him now, the cheeky glint never once leaving his eyes. “ a brothel doesn’t serve broth, stupid. it’s a special themed guest house where you can ask the innkeepers for whatever you want ! it’s a little weird though, a guy I know from the army went to one and asked for his mummy ? I don’t know why his mummy was practically living there instead of with him but I haven’t been to one myself but he kept going there for her and he always got what he wanted ! maybe they would give us free broth if we ask politely ?? ”
discreetly pointing to a relatively approachable stranger who has paused to stare at the window display of a bakery, he harshly whispers to the other. “ go on and go ask her if she knows where the nearest brothel is ! I REFUSE to open up Maps again ! besides, she might have a good recommendation ! ”
#THE FACT THAT JAEWOO THINKS HE KNOWS WHAT A BROTHEL IS BUT NOT REALLY#he knows a lot of suspicious stuff goes on in there but otherwise thinks it's a#relatively normal guest house or smth#I' MYELJIPFOGKOPG#OLI GONNA THINK JAEWOO DELIBERATELY TRICKING HIM WHEN HE GETS SCREAMED AT BY THE GIRL#Jaewoo has always been wondering why the guy from the army had to ask for his mummy#he's like wtf will I find mine there too???#I'M WHEEZING#the tag sHALL COME#this is just my warm up ask :}}}#infernoath#* : ✮ ┆𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑒 (𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑠).
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Christmas Wish
This is for @trixytheunicorn - Merry Christmas! I’m your secret Santa.
This little story was supposed to be a one-shot, but you know how these things go. I started having ideas... and inspiration... and more ideas... So please enjoy the first chapter of a two-part story that I’ll finish up for you once the holidays settle down.
---------------------------------
“Merry Christmas, Chat Noir! I hope you like them,” Ladybug held out a small package with a bow to her partner.
“Aw, you didn’t have to get me anything, Ladybug,” Chat responded, but he snatched the gift from her hands.
He tore away the packaging in an instant. “Awesome! DId you make these yourself?”
Ladybug nodded, her cheeks feeling unusually warm at Chat’s enthusiastic reception. He held up a pair of green fingerless gloves she’d knitted. The color matched the green highlights of his costume.
“I went fingerless because of your claws,” she informed him.
Chat nodded as he pulled them on, careful not to snag. “That was a good call. Hmmm. I wonder if these will get in the way of my Cataclysm? I’ll have to ask my kwami.”
“Oh. I didn’t think of that.”
Chat Noir shook his head at her look of consternation. “It’s fine. I’ll just pull them off if we encounter an akuma, but these are great for patrol.”
Ladybug’s expression relaxed as he flexed his fingers against the fit. The color was a perfect match. She’d thought of her partner the moment she’d seen the yarn. His masked face took on a worried cast, however.
“I didn’t get you anything yet,” he sighed, turning mournful kitty eyes to her.
“Chat, you know it’s okay!” Ladybug reassured him. “You’re already the best partner I could ask for, and that’s the most wonderful gift.”
“Yeah, but giving gifts is fun. I’ll have something next time we meet up,” he promised.
“Deal. Okay, let’s knock out this patrol. I know a place we can stop for hot chocolate afterward.”
The duo took off into the night, the lights of Paris twinkling all around them.
When Marinette woke the next day, an uncharacteristic layer of white covered her skylight. Snow! She threw back the covers and got up onto her knees.
“Tikki, look! I didn’t think it was cold enough for snow flurries last night. I guess the temperature dropped after patrol.”
“I love snow days!” Tikki enthused as her Chosen flipped open the window and let a couple of flakes drift in.
Both kwami and Chosen put out their tongues to catch a snowflake before Marinette shivered and pulled the skylight back down, latching it securely.
“I guess I should see if Maman and Papa need any help this morning,” Marinette mused.
She dressed and headed downstairs to the bakery, but her parents were nowhere to be found. The shop was bright and clean as the cheerful snow fell outside. Even the door was unlocked. The bell above it chimed as Marinette stuck her head out.
“Huh. That’s odd. Where could they be?” she murmured. She felt Tikki move against her ribs, underneath her jacket, and patted her gently.
A tiny patch of green in the snow caught Marinette’s eye. She ventured fully out into the chilly morning and knelt down to get a better look. A chill went down her spine as she held up one of Chat Noir’s new knitted gloves.
“That’s not good,” declared Tikki, surreptitiously peering out from Marinette’s neckline.
“Nope. And I’m not taking any chances.”
Marinette looked around carefully at the empty sidewalks and streets before backing up into her parents’ bakery.
“Tikki, spots on!”
Moments later, Ladybug tumbled out of the Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie, unsure of where to go next. Light snow fell all around, masking any tracks or clues to where her partner (or her parents) might have gone. She’d been lucky to find the glove before it was covered. Ladybug thought hard. The place it landed gave her a clue, she realized. What had Chat said about taking his gloves off if there was an akuma?
A stiff breeze whipped up the snow at her ankles. It was growing thicker by the minute. Ladybug looked up at the bright gray sky, hoping against hope that her partner had simply been careless.
A giggle reached Ladybug’s ears from somewhere close. She lowered her gaze, but didn’t see anyone at all. Suspicious, she headed toward the closest Metro entrance, at the other end of her block. Snow fell on the steps as she approached. She heard another giggle, and nodded to herself. Whatever was going on, there was someone down there. Maybe it was the akuma?
Ladybug descended cautiously, watching for surprises. Her feet crunched down more snow as she reached the bottom step. She flicked a glance up, noting that the snow fell inside the Metro tunnel as well as outside. All signs point to akuma, she sighed to herself, pressing onward.
Two girls in warm coats sat in the snow, laughing and playing with a pair of dolls. Their giggles echoed off the walls around them.
“Girls?” Ladybug asked as she approached, “Shouldn’t you be at home?”
The pair looked up, excited.
“Hello, Ladybug! Say hello, Dolly!”
The toy in the girl’s hand lifted its chin and waved one arm at Ladybug. “Hello, Ladybug.”
Ladybug’s eyes went wide.
“There’s a genie, Ladybug! Go ask her for a wish. It’s fun,” the other girl urged.
The second doll nodded its head in agreement.
Ladybug backed away slowly. The girls and their dolls seemed pretty stable. If she pushed to send the girls home, she had no doubt the dolls would take issue. A genie? A wish-granting akuma, more like.
“Alright, girls. I’ll go visit the genie, too. You stay put until I get back, okay?”
The pair nodded their heads and turned back to the dolls. Ladybug walked further into the Metro tunnel. The snow still fell from above, but it was diminished to a light dusting. She came out onto the platform next to the rail line and stopped short, amazed.
There were people everywhere, some in groups and some alone. Some chatted with each other, animated with excitement. Some sat quietly, apparently lost in thought. Almost everyone cradled some kind of object in their hands, or possessively touched larger items. A gentle, cheerful snowfall came down over the heads of the crowd.
Friendly voices hailed her from all around as Ladybug passed through the crowded space. She looked around, bewildered.
“Hi, Ladybug!”
“Ladybug! What are you going to wish for?”
“Did you see the genie, Ladybug? You better hurry, she’s granting wishes.”
“Well, hello there, Ladybug,” called the voice of Tom Dupain.
Ladybug whirled around.
“Papa - patisserie owner Tom Dupain,” she stammered, recovering from her surprise. “What’s going on? Why aren’t you in your shop?”
“There’s some excitement down here, as you can see. I thought I’d try my luck. Isn’t she a beauty?” He gave the side of a large appliance a hearty slap with his large hand.
“Is that a new Thermomax 5300 sensor-regulated wide-door professional oven?”
Ladybug couldn’t believe her eyes. Her father had been gushing over Thermomax ads in his Breads & Pastries Magazine for months.
“You really know your ovens! Yes, it’s what I’ve always wanted. Djinny got one here quicker than you can say ‘cake’s ready.’ I can’t wait to take it home and bake properly for once.”
Ladybug raised one eyebrow. Always wanted? Bake properly? The Thermomax was a brand new model - not to mention, her parents ran one of the most successful pastry shops in town. Ladybug was pretty sure her father’s abilities wouldn’t vastly improve, no matter how great the oven. She didn’t press the issue.
“Is your wife around?”
“Oh, yes. She’s over there with the new industrial stand mixer.” Tom stood on tiptoe and pointed.
Ladybug could just barely see her mother, fawning over a shiny appliance. She started over to her, but a head of golden hair caught her eye.
Adrien?
Ladybug changed direction and wended her way across the crowded platform toward her crush. Pushing through, she couldn’t get a good view of him between all the people until she was nearly on top of him. Adrien was laying down on a bench. A delicate, gloved hand combed through his locks. His eyes were closed and he looked like he was in heaven. Jealousy flared in Ladybug’s chest, but she stopped short when she finally reached them.
“Well, this is embarrassing,” she muttered, a bright red blush covering her cheeks.
Adrien had made his wish. A girl with dark pigtails, blue eyes, a bright smile, and a scarily accurate Ladybug costume threaded her fingers through Adrien’s supple tresses. He sighed contentedly. Upon a closer inspection, this Ladybug’s appearance was even better than Ladybug had originally thought. It was like looking in a mirror. A shudder started at the nape of her neck and chilled Ladybug all down her spine. She backed away without either Adrien or her double seeing her.
“I’ve got to get a handle on this. If it’s an akuma, what’s the catch?”
Everyone around them looked so happy and content. Where was this Djinny, anyway?
Ladybug pushed her way through to the edge of the Metro platform. Were the trains even running right now? She looked both ways down the dark, empty tunnel, at a loss.
“Psst! Ladybug!”
The voice calling her was familiar. She peered into the darkness at one side and saw two green eyes floating at the far end of the tunnel’s opening, next to a staircase that led down onto the tracks. Was that Chat Noir’s kwami? What was his name… Plagg? She glanced about quickly to be sure no one had noticed him, then joined him at the edge of the staircase. She ducked under the ‘No Admittance’ sign and took a few steps down. Hidden from view, she turned to the little cat kwami.
“Aren’t you Plagg? Where’s Chat Noir? Do you know where I can find this akuma?”
“Whoa, slow down! Yes, I can’t tell you because he’s not transformed, and yes. But you have to listen to me, Ladybug. This isn’t your normal, run-of-the-mill akuma. She’s dangerous.”
Ladybug rolled her eyes impatiently. “They’re all dangerous, Plagg.”
“Ladybug, these wishes are real. They aren’t illusions. Did you see your double out there?”
Ladybug pursed her lips sourly. “I did.”
“She’s got everything you’ve got. I can feel the same energy coming off of her as from you. The twist, though? These wishes are time bombs. They’re all going to go bad. A few of them are already getting weird. Like the snow outside.”
“That was a wish? Oh, of course, it must be. It’s snowing inside the station, too.”
“Did you notice how the wind was picking up? I’d bet my last slice of Camembert we’re in for a blizzard.”
“So you think each and every wish has something bad just waiting to come out? What about my fa- my favorite baker, Tom Dupain? All he wanted was a fancy oven. Seems pretty harmless.”
“I don’t know, Ladybug. But I’m not willing to wait until it grows legs to find out. All I’m saying is that if you attack from the front, there’s already a formidable Ladybug who may, or may not, turn on you in defense of her creator. Plus an angry mob that doesn’t want to lose its early Christmas gifts.”
Ladybug tapped her chin in thought.
“Point taken, Plagg. What do you suggest?”
“Go undercover. You gotta be careful what you wish for, though. Try to keep it simple; maybe that will keep whatever tricks Djinny’s got up her sleeve to a minimum.” Plagg hovered, a dark blot against the white subway tunnel wall, as Ladybug considered the idea.
She nodded. “All right, I’m in. You won’t tell Chat my identity, will you?”
“What do you take me for, Ladybug? If Master Fu and Tikki think it’s not safe, then that’s enough proof for me. Although I think a revelation of that sort would be very interesting…” Plagg snickered to himself.
“What?” Ladybug had been peeking around the corner at the crowd gathered on the platform, but turned back to Plagg.
“Nevermind. Nothing. Djinny’s set up court in one of the stairwells. Detransform and get going already! We don’t have time to waste.”
Pulling one hand into a fist, Ladybug nodded again.
“Tikki, spots off,” she whispered.
A brief glimmer of magic, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng stood before Plagg with a determined expression on her face. Her kwami tumbled away, then swerved around to come back.
“Plagg!” Tikki squealed.
She raced to embrace the scruffy cat kwami, who returned an equally enthusiastic welcome. “Alright, you two. Reunions later. Right now we need to stop this akuma. Ready?”
Marinette held open her jacket and both kwamis hid themselves inside. She re-emerged from the stairs next to the platform, taking silent steps on the tiles. Djinny’s haunt was directly in front of her. Marinette wove her way through the crowd, slipping effortlessly between bodies, and marched directly up to meet Hawkmoth’s wish-granting genie.
Her bravado melted away at the sight of Djinny, lounging comfortably on rich pillows at the foot of the staircase in one exit tunnel. The small space was transformed. Ornate tapestries formed a niche that was warmly lit by standing oil lamps. A silver tea service, etched with intricate designs, lay at Djinny’s elbow. With one finger, Djinny pointed at the teapot and it raised itself up, tipped forward, and spilled a thin stream of steaming tea into her cup. The teapot settled itself back on the tray as a spoon full of sugar dumped its contents into the cup and stirred lightly.
Djinny herself wore surprisingly little for a snow day in Paris. Her feet were bare and she was clothed in comfortably loose satin pants with a generously cut blouse that clung to her torso. The TV-style genie effect was complete with rows of bangles up and down each arm, and a high ponytail that shimmered and swayed in the firelight.
She sat up when she saw Marinette and clapped her hands.
“Another new friend! Oh, I’m delighted you came to visit today. I’ve been meeting so many new faces, and everyone is so nice. Don’t they look happy?” Djinny waved her hand out at the crowd behind Marinette. Her bangles chimed musically.
Marinette half-turned and glanced back.
“Yes, they do,” she agreed. She did her best to remove her suspicious expression and put on a hopeful one instead.
“Well, what can I do for you?” Djinny asked, batting her eyelashes earnestly.
Marinette was taken aback. Djinny didn’t have any of the usual...meanness she’d come to expect from an akuma. Her mouth opened and closed, and her prepared wish disappeared from her mind.
“I, uh, I…”
“Yes, dear?”
“I wish Adrien liked me more than Ladybug.”
The moment the words were out, Marinette clapped both hands over her mouth in surprise. Oh, no.
------------------------
More to come! @mlsecretsanta
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
How I’d fix Kingdom Hearts III.
Bearing in mind that the issues I had with it were mostly story-related, namely: integration of the overarching plot into (some of the) Disney worlds, pacing, characterization, female characters getting sidelined, and threads left dangling. In terms of gameplay, I’d probably just tie Team Attacks and Attraction Flow to MP (or make Attraction Flow location-specific, like Reality Shift in 3D) and Formchanges to Focus, just so the player has to use them more strategically. I’d also make the Riku and Mickey scenes in the Realm of Darkness playable, or at least have more player input than they do.
First of all, I’d change Olympus to Agrabah. They used the first movie in the first game and Return of Jafar in II, so they really should have used King of Thieves in III. Since the whole reason for Sora going to Olympus in the first place (to gain the power of waking) doesn’t come into play until the end of the game anyway, I don’t see it as that big of a change. If you really need a reason for him to go there, I think either learning something from Aladdin as the diamond in the rough or from Genie adapting to being semi-phenomenal, nearly-cosmic could work. Axel will tag along to Agrabah because:
He went there on a lot of missions for the Organization, so he’s familiar with the world and won’t drag them down, plus he could learn a lot from Sora because...
I’ve decided that Axel should struggle to consistently summon his Keyblade, both to mirror Sora’s power of waking thing and to provide the Guardians of Light with incentive to rescue as many Keyblade wielders as possible just in case he doesn’t prove up to snuff.
I think there’s a good character study that could be done between Axel and Cassim, what with them both being charming roguish types who fell in with a bad crowd and struggle with breaking old habits.
I’d also introduce the New Seven Hearts concept here, with Sora and company realizing that Jasmine is no longer a Princess of Heart. From here, Axel’s still struggling, so Yen Sid sends him on a mission to confirm if any of the Princesses of Heart have retained their status; Axel visits Wonderland--or rather, the world Alice is actually from--and Beast’s Castle in cutscenes between worlds in Sora’s first world set, and probably encounters Xaldin in the latter world. (Xaldin replaces Xion as a Nort, because it’s still so weird that he’s got the pointy Nort ears after becoming a Nobody and as a Nobody is obsessed with negative emotions AND needs time to recover after being re-completed, but somehow isn’t a Nort?)
Meanwhile, Kairi isn’t in active Keyblade wielder training yet, but only because she’s at Radiant Garden, where Zexion is focusing on Namine first because it should be easier to untangle just one heart in another than three hearts in another, and Namine’s power over memories would sure come in handy. While she’s there, you could explore her childhood in Radiant Garden. (If her grandmother’s still alive, that’d be a touching reunion!) I’m leaning toward not having her be part of the New Seven Hearts, because going from having a heart of pure light to a normal heart with the capacity for darkness seems more interesting to me. (Aaand now I’m thinking about Master Xehanort taking advantage of that lack of experience with darkness and Norting Kairi instead of killing her. It’d make Sora less likely to fight, which is the opposite of what he wants, but damn it’s so much more compelling than what we got.)
For the first set of worlds, I’m pretty satisfied with how the overarching plot was integrated. However, in Kingdom of Corona, some things aren’t well-explained unless you’ve seen the movie, like Rapunzel suddenly having the crown back. For that one, Heartless/Nobodies could show up when Mother Gothel meets Sora, Donald, and Goofy, and she drops it while running away; Sora could give it back to Rapunzel and mention something about her mother looking for her. Also, I still think Mother Gothel should’ve knocked Marluxia out with the tree branch instead of his Reapers, lol.
Someone on Reddit made the suggestion to move rescuing Aqua and Ven to between the first and second world sets--possibly with fully playable Castle Oblivion/Land of Departure--and I absolutely love the idea. Others pointed out that it couldn’t work because they go to the Keyblade Graveyard after gathering all the Guardians of Light, which is why I suggest having Vanitas reawaken and assume control of Ven as soon as Sora returns Ven’s heart to his body.
Other cutscenes will have to be moved up to this point, including Vexen recruiting Demyx and the latter dropping off the completed Replica, which will now go to Namine while Zexion reverse-engineers one for Roxas. (Or not; Namine’s entire existence is pretty weird, so she might be able to generate her own body after her heart is untangled from Kairi’s, leaving the Replica to Roxas.) Regardless, Namine is now awake and starts work on freeing Roxas and Xion; Axel is now capable of consistently summoning his Keyblade, so he and Kairi start training under Riku and Mickey; Sora and company possibly revisit Twilight Town, just so we can get that first world revisit that was in the first game, II, and 3D; and Aqua recovers from ten years in the Realm of Darkness plus having Ven snatched out from under her nose, then gives Riku and Mickey a hand with training.
Monstropolis won’t change too much, though Sora and company now knowing who Vanitas is and having beef with him will impart a different tone. As for Arendelle...Larxene needs to interact with people besides Sora and company, like trying to bully Anna into giving up on Elsa or taunting Hans and turning him into a Heartless; Sora and company need to go to places besides the North Mountain; and there need to not be random out of place musical numbers. Since the 100 Acre Wood was even more of a minigame hub than usual and didn’t actual adapt the plot of Pooh’s Heffalump Movie, I propose cutting it in favor of a Wreck-It Ralph world, with the arcade being one of Scrooge’s many business ventures in Twilight Town; Xigbar would actually be a great Nort if the world needs one, since going Turbo kinda reminds me of Luxu body-surfing through the ages. (While I’m on the subject, I’d replace Ralph and Stitch with Jack Skellington and Tron, that way Sora has all the party members from past worlds that required a change in appearance as Links; Simba would be obtained in Agrabah, Dream Eaters in Toy Box, Jack Skellington in Monstropolis, and Tron in San Fransokyo, and I’m leaning toward Tron being in his Tron: Legacy form.)
For The Caribbean, its biggest problem comes down to the audience already knowing that the chest of Davy Jones isn’t the box the Organization is looking for, so it feels like a waste of time; Sora and company barely having any impact on the plot doesn’t help. Having them actually interact with characters besides Jack would help. I’d also have Beckett play a larger role and Luxord turn him into a Heartless. I thought it was an odd choice to have Dark Riku show up in San Fransokyo instead of the Riku Replica or Data-Riku and make it seem like he’s time traveling (UGH) from when Ansem possessed him...only to have it be a Replica anyway! So yeah, I’d probably change that to Data-Riku in a Replica to make the Bug Blox from Coded showing up actually matter, and I’d have Vexen supervising him instead of faffing about in The Caribbean.
At this point, Zexion and Namine have finally succeeded in getting Roxas free, but are still working on Xion. However, since they now have seven Guardians of Light, the decision is made to rest up and prepare for the Keyblade War, as in canon. I’m keeping the scene with Axel and Saix before the final battle but cutting out the bit about them becoming apprentices to save their heretofore unknown female friend, because it’s just a blatant retcon; Nomura confirmed in an interview after BBS that they were just ordinary kids who got caught up in the Heartless experiments.
As for the final battle itself, my thoughts are much more scattered as of right now, besides Kairi not getting fridged of course. I like blackosprey’s idea of moving Sora’s little jaunt in The Final World to after the boss rush of Norts but before Scala ad Caelum. Since Xaldin’s taking Xion’s place as a Nort, it’ll be Saix who’s tasked with killing Axel and hesitates; Zexion and Namine get Xion free just in time for her to possess the discarded Replica and make the save. I'd prefer Terranort be re-completed after you defeat Ansem and Xemnas instead of being a Nort from the get-go, or have him around from the get-go instead of Ansem and Xemnas, because him existing at the same time as the Wonder Twins is only possible thanks to time travel bullshit. (Same with Master Xehanort, for that matter, but he’s harder to work around. Unless you have Young Xehanort pulling the strings for most of the game, fight him after Ansem and Xemnas and/or Terranort, and only fight Master Xehanort in Scala ad Caelum?) And if they’re going to bring up Demyx, Luxord, Marluxia, and Larxene’s connection to the mobile game, the least they could do is have dead people close to them besides Strelitzia hanging out in The Final World, giving out exposition tidbits.
Also: I know Nomura said this was just going to be the end of the Xehanort Saga, but I really feel this game should’ve retired Sora as well. Part of the reason the ending left me unsatisfied is because Sora doesn’t get any closure, and I know it’s because they want us to keep buying these games, but if they try, they can easily make us care just as much about a new protagonist. Maybe even, horror of horrors, a female one!
So yeah, those are my thoughts on how to improve KHIII! Several days after I said I’d post them. Maybe before the next ice age, I can work up the motivation to post about my series-wide KH rewrite, lol.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Animal Sentai Zyuohger vs Ninninger - Part 1
Well I suppose we’ve got to sidestep to handle this one. I’m gonna level with you, Ninninger wasn’t a series I liked a ton at the time, and my opinion hasn’t improved with time. It was just such a series of dropped opportunities that spun its wheels instead of doing anything with any of its plots, and the movies already have a tendency to, well, spin their wheels for lack of being able to do much to the actual stories.
But I’ve been wrong before. Let’s see if maybe I’m wrong again. It’s Animal Sentai Zyuohger vs Ninninger the Movie: Super Sentai’s Message from the Future from Super Sentai, part one! Here we GO!
-TOEI LOGO, with a Zyuohger animal cry.
-We begin, in fire. A shinobi boy runs into an open stadium, to see the Super Sentai heroes dead on the floor! DRAMATIC.
-Cut back to Before. The crew are off on a camping trip out by the river, and even better, it’s out in the middle of nowhere so they can let out their animal heads. They can relax, and unwind, and not give two fucks about anything…Of course, as they relax, they’re being watched…
-While Misao is still on his way, having taken his time putting together perfect bento box lunches…When that little shrimp of a shinobi barrels past him and oh god all the bento boxes spilled. Miao is in despair.
-Back at the campsite, Yamato’s ready to start cooking some food…When the zyumen suddenly get vibes. Something is coming…! And it’s, to nobody’s surprise but the cast, a series of colorful shinobi, who think these animals are demons using the power of Sentai to commit evil! …Sure. Sure you know what let’s just roll with it.
-AKA NINJA SHURIKEN. THE CHANGE! NIN NIN NIN! NIN NI NIN NIN! Shuriken Change! RED! BLUE! YELLOW! WHITE! PINK! NINJAS! The shinobi who won’t hide! Shuriken Sentai, NINNINGER!
-Instincts Awakened! The Zyuohgers block a series of gunshots with their armor, as the two teams square off…And the fight is on!
-TITLE CARD! God I swear these get more absurd with every movie…
-So Eagle goes after Aka in the sky, Lion faces Ao’s trickery, Shark and Shiro clash, Elephant and Ki are against each other, and Tiger faces Momo. As you can imagine, these fights take a certain comical absurdity…Well, until everyone gathers back up, and it’s time for WHALE! Whale fires up a vicious, charged Final shot into the ground, slamming the shinobi back. …BOOK IT!
-And thus Aka decides to scale it up. Shuriken Combination! SHURIKENJIN! …Well shit.
-Zyuoh Cube! Animal Combination! ZYUOH KING! ZYUOH WILD! Gotta get those older toys to sell somehow, right? Of course, Shurikenjin manages to hold its own against both, keeping them from surrounding him…And Aka launches Shinobimaru to produce tons of chaos when they try to put on a unified front! Leaving them to call up UFOmaru for SHURIKENJIN UFO!
-Okay, fine, time for power. WILD ZYUOH KING! The mechs combine, and Aka’s kind of fired up at this serious fight. So, finishers? Finishers!
-SHURIKENJIN! UFO BIG BANG!
-ZYUOH DYNAMIC STRIKE! Beam claaaash! Which core team will reign supreme?
-The beams just make an explosion that send both teams flying. Well that’s one way to avoid answering the question. Everyone’s injured enough to be ripped out of their armors, as Yamato finds himself landing right by Takaharu…Who still has a sword. …Shit. Which leads to another scrambling battle, as he just tries to get away from the furious armed man…
-Meanwhile, Misao is in despair when he finally gets to the campsite…And finds it bombed out and burned to a husk?! Oh god, what happened?! NINJAS happened.
-The rest of the Ninninger team get back to their place, unable to reach Takaharu…And are greeted by…
-What the fuck is this thing.
-Runrun. This thing is called Runrun. Who insists their people were wiped out by the evil demons pretending to be Super Sentai, the Zyuohgers! I call horseshit. So, everyone’s left trying to figure out a plan…Not least being the fact that they only fought five Zyuohgers, and even independent sources can verify there are six…
-Meanwhile, the rest of the crew are stuck without Yamato or Misao, and are hanging out at a courtyard with food stands trying to sort out a plan of their own…With one certain food stand being manned by a certain fellow who’s listening so very closely to this talk of zyumen and ninjas. Tusk’s immediate thought is they need to know what a ninja is capable of if they’re going to fight one…
-Which is when the shinobi cowboy of legend appears before them!
-Yamato continues to insist he’s human and doesn’t have a tail, as their fight goes to a park…When the shrimp ninja comes to stop his father! …Takaharu thinks he would remember impregnating a woman.
-Back at the cabin, Mario’s working on a frog sculpture…When Ki and Momo come to observe…And Mario throws two of his sculpting knives at their hiding point, getting some kind of sense that something had intruded on his space! It’s a very good thing that Misao announces himself when he steps in or he might die.
-And Misao is deeply concerned about what he saw and hopes the others are okay…And then as soon as Mario turns away, the shinobi snatch Misao up and drag him out into the woods for some persuasive conversation.
-And then Misao falls into depressive despair so they knock him out. And Runrun is very pleased.
-While Yamato is meeting this kid, one Igasaki Yoshiharu. Son of Takaharu, back from the future. Oh that makes sense. Takaharu believes it in two seconds because he’s dealt with all kinds of weird ninja shit, while for Yamato that’s a bit of a bridge too far. …Look I’m just glad this dumbdumb isn’t trying to kill an actually good Red.
-So the kid came back using ninpou, and Yamato just gives up trying to sort it out.
-And then Takaharu asks about his future self…And learns he suffered a fate even worse than baldness.
-He died.
-One day from now, both teams are killed in a terrible battle. Yoshiharu came back to try and prevent it…
-While resident cowboy Kinji is explaining ninjas to the zyumen. And with the sun so low in the sky, he has clearly been doing this for hours.
-Which is when Cube Rhino appears, with a letter! A ransom note. Misao’s been captured, and they’re to come peacefully and turn themselves over if they want him unharmed…And Sela is furious.
-When Kinji reveals, THE CHANGE! Shuriken Change! STAR NINJA! The colorful star, STAR NIN—
-Come here motherfucker
-Back at the cabin, Yamato, Takaharu and Yoshiharu are at the cabin, where he lays out, and this may shock you, that Runrun tricked the two teams into destroying each other. And with nobody to safely pass the torch of power, no new Super Sentai teams were able to form…That power, what we Americans would think of as the Morphing Grid, was lost. A world without heroes to fight evil…
-Takaharu is at least able to apologize deeply from the bottom of his heart, and beg forgiveness, now that he knows he was operating on false information. So who in the hell is this Runrun for real…
-Cut up to the Big Bow in a flashback. Runrun was hired by Naria, an outside consultant with skills in manipulation and hero assassination. A little independent action to make Genis’s life easier. With skilled manipulation, and a pollen that blocks all communication signals, Runrun can easily twist the situation around…
-Case in point? The other Ninningers want to interrogate Misao some more. And that mask that Runrun’s put on him to keep him from shouting, also lets him put words in Misao’s mouth and make him ‘confess’!
-In his head, the phantoms try to get through to him, you’ve got to get this mask off! But his hands are bound…He’s got to find a way to change the script…
-While back at the cabin, Takaharu and Yamato have to set this right…
-The next morning, the rest of the crew brings a bound and gagged Kinji. This is now a hostage exchange.
-Of course, transformation devices come out…Shuriken Change! Instincts Awakened! Yamato and Takaharu arrive too late to stop the fight, as things go from bad to worse…And now these damned fools have decided there’s only one way out of the situation, and that’s to win. When the duo see their respective Sixths, and free them…
-But both now have pride on the line, as it’s Shuriken Change, Instincts Awakened, and these damned idiots make it worse as they just end up fighting eachother. Oh my god you’re all dumb.
-And then Takaharu decides the only answer is to just smack everyone down and make them listen. And now Yamato’s the only one here not fighting, as he realizes something has to be up. Something’s in his head. In all their heads. Got to stay calm, focused, can’t take up arms…Got to disarm them!
-Which is about when Aka gets blasted by his own sister for getting in her way, and Takaharu slides back, at least calmed down enough to not be fighting anymore…But now neither of them have any idea how to get out of this situation…
-As both teams bring up their respective finishes, the narrators shouting all over each other! Yamato and Takaharu sprint into the center…And both nearly get shot by their teams’ respective finishing blasts, as explosions and chaos echo through the gym amidst Runrun’s laughter…
-And as the smoke clears, Yoshiharu arrives in time to see that cold open, to see both teams laid out on the ground…
-Which is where we’re going to stop for today.
Well I guess that’s it, no more Super Sentai! Tragic, really. I guess the rest of this series will just be about Genis conquering the world.
…Okay we all know I’m lying. Come back next time for the rest of the movie to see how the teams recover and team up for a big epic showdown against this teletubby-ass villain. Wait for it!
1 note
·
View note
Text
JSA Rebirth
Author's Note 1: While we're all still waiting for the real JSA Rebirth, I thought I'd try my hand at the First Superhero Team. And as for why it's taking so long for my other stories to update, I haven't been feeling that creative for a while, but I think I got the spark again. Also, spoilers for anyone who hasn't read Flash #22.
So sit back and read on, my friends!
Jay Garrick had no idea how long he had been trapped in the Speed Force. Seconds, minutes, days, and months all blended. He was aware that some being (or beings) had tampered with the world. Wally believed that they had only stolen ten years from everyone. But it was so much worse than that.
An entire generation had been stolen. Decades of tradition and heroism snuffed out in the blink of an eye. Why? Jay honestly had no idea. Maybe the force behind this had a vendetta against the heroes of Earth. Maybe they wanted to examine an alternate history. But whatever the reason, Jay knew that he couldn't let this being keep toying with time and space like it was some toy. He had to escape!
But that was the problem. Speedsters need a connection with someone to keep themselves from fading into the Speed Force. And the force behind the missing years erased every connection Jay had. His wife Joan was now a spinster. His friends had lived lives without even knowing each other, let alone him. And even Barry Allen, his protege, failed to recognize him after he saved him and Batman from falling into the timestream. At this point, Jay Garrick was about to resign himself to his fate and drift into the nirvana provided by the Speed Force.
"Cei-U."
Jay's eyes widened in shock. "Wait! Was that?"
"Cei-U." An old tired voice and said, the words echoing through the Speed Force. And it was a voice that Jay recognized.
"I-it can't be! He's dead! I saw him die!"
"Please." The old voice cried out in sorrow. "Please bring them back. Bring my friends back!"
And the first time in a while, a smile made way to Jay Garrick's face, and he began to run.
Navek presents
A Justice Society of America story
JSA Rebirth
Gotham City…
Alan Scott had a good life. Back in the late 30s, he had built Gotham Communications from the ground up. And even as technology advanced from film to digital, GC had kept with the times, providing Gotham will all its news and information. And in an age with psychotic criminal clowns and bat-themed vigilantes, information was vital.
Tonight was his son, Todd's, wedding rehearsal. His daughter, Jennifer-Lynn, had flown in from California just for this. But as Alan was about to step out of his office, his attention turned to an antique that lined his desk.
A green train lantern. The blond-haired man couldn't recall ever buying such a strange-colored object. Maybe from one of his travels to China. And whenever he looked at that lantern, oddly enough, his right ring finger twitched. Why it did so was unknown to Alan.
Seattle…
If you only took one glance at Ted Grant, you would only assume the man was in his mid-sixties instead of his mid-nineties. Many believed that the reason for his fit shape was due to his boxing. Even after retiring from the sport, Ted continued his daily routine well into his twilight years.
Currently, Ted was in the middle of his usual routine by punching a sandbag. A few years ago, he would have called his buddy Al Pratt to box with him. Unfortunately, Al died of a heart attack about three years ago. Naturally, this was a huge blow for Ted, since Al was one of his few friends that were still around. The ravishes of old age had taken most of his buddies, and Ted was the only one left. This was not a thought that made the retired boxer happy.
Keystone City, The Good Life Home for the Elderly…
Johnny Thunder's life had been hell for the last few decades. Everyone around him believed him to be crazy since he rambled about supposed lost heroes and how it was all his fault. He had been committed to a home for the elderly, who kept trying to up his medication.
But he wasn't crazy. For the past few decades, Johnny had been trying to bring his friends back. Back in the sixties, the government was threatening him and his friends to retire, or else they would be branded as traitors. To save his friends, Johnny had called upon his genie, the Thunderbolt, and wished that everyone would forget about the JSA.
Unfortunately, it was only after the wish had been granted that the former hero realized how badly he screwed up. He had attempted to find his friends, but none of them recognized him and shooed him away, believing him to be a nutcase. He tried to get some help from other heroes from his generation, only to be met with the same results.
Not only had his friends forgotten their careers as heroes, but the entire world forgot they existed. Johnny attempted to summon his Thunderbolt again to undo the wish, but his powers were gone as well. And ever since then, he had been trying to summon Thunderbolt, but to no avail.
But hope had returned to the old man when a mysterious young man covered by lightning appeared in front of him and told him that he needed to find the Justice Society. And that's what he had been doing nonstop for the past three months, only taking breaks to eat, sleep, and take care of himself.
Tonight was no exception as he sat on his bed, his arms around his knees as he continued to say the magic word.
"Cei-U! Cei-U! Please, I'm sorry!" The old man cried out, not noticing a spark coming from the corner of his room. "Please."
And suddenly, there was a loud burst of lightning that made Johnny jump from his bed. He recognized how similar this incident was compared to when the young man in yellow visited him. But this was different, as the being that started to form from the lightning was a man his age.
"Johnny!" The man in lightning shouted before holding his arm. "QUICK! TAKE MY HAND!"
"Again?" The old man said, his eyes widened in shock. "It's happening again!"
"Hurry!" The man exclaimed as blue lightning started to zap him, hurting him. "They know I'm here! They're trying to keep me in the Speed Force!"
"W-who?" The scared old man asked, only get a yell of pain in response as the man started to fade away. But in an instant, Johnny remembered who this man was. He ran towards the man in lightning faster than he had run in the past fifty years and grabbed his arms.
"JAY!" Johnny shouted before pulling with all his might. The man in lightning burst forth, fully manifesting in the physical world. Johnny landed on his behind and looked up, tears of joy falling from his eyes and a smile appearing on his face. Standing above him was a man about his age with fading brown hair and grey hair, blue eyes, a skin-tight red skirt with a massive lightning bolt on the front, blue pants, red boots with golden wings on the sides, and a silver helmet with gold wings that brought to mind the image of Mercury.
"I'm back." Jay whispered to himself as he looked over his hands. "I'm back!"
He then picked up Johnny and gave his old friend a hug. "You did it, you crazy kid!"
"I did it? I did it!" Johnny shouted as he hugged his friend back, more tears of happiness flowing free. "I fixed everything!"
"Mr. Thunder?! What the hell is going on in there?!" One of the orderlies shouted before knocking down the door. And much to their confusion, Johnny Thunder was nowhere to be seen. A few blocks away from the home, Jay had used his speed to bring the two to the top of a nearby building.
"Jay, I'm so sorry." Johnny said, getting Jay's attention. "I didn't mean for all of this to happen."
This just confused to the old speedster. "What're you talking about?"
"Back it the sixties, when McCarthy and his committee were crackin' down on us, I...I used Thunderbolt. I wished that they would just forget about the JSA. And they did." He said, his jovial mood having been replaced by a more somber one. "Everyone did. Alan, Wesley, Ted, Kent, Dinah. Even the Seven Soldiers and the All-Stars forgot. They forgot they were heroes. Forgot they were friends. And the world turned sour."
He then fell to his knees and began to weep. "It's all my fault."
"No, it isn't." Jay said, offering a comforting hand to his friend. "You didn't change the world, Johnny."
"I...but...my wish…" The old man said in confusion.
"Listen, Johnny. I've been trapped within the Speed Force for who knows how long. And I remember how the world was. And how it changed. Trust me, Johnny. You didn't change anything."
"I didn't?" Johnny asked, wiping away his tears. "Then...who did?"
"I don't know. But what I do is that they're starting to make their next move." Jay said, standing up and gazing at the night sky, lighting striking through the clouds. "Wally was the first one break through, and that started to change everything. Then Superman merged the histories of the old and new timelines together. And they know that."
He then turned back to his old friend. "We're going to need everyone for what comes next. The world needs the Justice Society once more."
And hearing this once more made Johnny smile. After decades of guilt, decades of isolation, he felt a new sense of hope once more. "It's about damn time."
But what the two hadn't realized yet was they had once more altered the course of the world. The moment Jay rematerialized into the world, a shockwave echoes across the timeline. In Ohio, a young historian stopped in his trails as he suddenly recognized an exhibit dedicated to his grandfather. In New Mexico, Ted Kord suddenly recalled how he got the scarab when his mentor died to protect him. In Washington D.C., Courtney Whitmore recalled the man who had given her the Cosmic Staff. Ted Grant looked through a locker at the end of his gym, revealing a worn out black catsuit.
All over the world, old men and women started to remember their lives. And their loved ones also began to remember. And none more so than Alan Scott, who felt a brief headache before looking down at his right hand and seeing a green lantern-shaped ring appear. With a smile on his face, he approached the lantern on his desk and picked it up. He then placed the ring on the glass, causing mystical green energy to shine forth as he began to say an oath for the first time in decades.
"And I shall shed my light over dark evil! For the dark things cannot stand the light! The light of…"
And as he said this, a bright green fire spread over Alan Scott. But it did not burn him. Instead, it began to make the aging man younger, and a new outfit began to replace his usual attire. An outfit consisting of a dark purple cape with green inner-lining, red boots, green pants, a brown belt, a red shirt with an emblem of a green lantern in a yellow circle, and a green domino mask on his face.
"THE GREEN LANTERN!" Alan finally proclaimed, a new sense of life shining as bright as the emerald light that surrounded him.
And in an undisclosed laboratory, a red-haired scientist was observing the mask of Johnny Sorrow. When the former Suicide Squad member was apprehended by the combined might of the Justice League and the current Suicide Squad, she was part of the team tasked with discovering the otherworldly mysteries of the mask. However, she had begun hearing faint whispers from the mask. And right now, it was saying something with a hint of glee; The Society was lost no more.
To be continued in JSA #1!
Author's Note 2: For those of you who don't know, the Justice Society of America is my favorite DC superhero team. They embody everything I love about comic books, and you can bet there's been a JSA-shaped hole in my heart since the start of New 52. And yes, I know DC is planning the JSA's return, but I thought it would be fun to do my own version if I was a writer at DC.
And in case anyone was wondering, I would have Rafa Sandoval as the artist. And like every good comic, we need some awesome solicitations for the next issue (or chapter in this case):
THE FIRST SUPERHERO TEAM IS BACK! Jay Garrick, the first Flash, has returned to the DC Universe. And the first order of business is reuniting the Justice Society of America! Alan Scott, the Golden Age Green Lantern! Ted Grant AKA Wildcat! And many more! But old enemies have also started to return and have begun targeting the JSA. Will Jay and Johnny be able to bring their friends together before it's too late? Find out in "Let Justice Prevail!" Part 1!
And as always, please remember to read, write, and review. See ya next time!
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thy Kingdom Come (Luke 11:1-13; preached 7/28/19)
I’ve reached the point in my life where the things of my childhood have gone from being cool to embarrassingly out-of-style to nostalgic and vintage and now back to being in-style again. My kids wear their neon colored shirts while they watch My Little Ponies and Strawberry Shortcake and play with their Care Bears. Full House is back on TV; Teddy Ruxpin and Light-Brite and Lisa Frank and even jelly shoes are back in the stores, and when we go to McDonalds, the girls get mini Beanie Babies and Toy Story and Lion King toys.
Everything old is new again – or perhaps, like Ecclesiastes says, when you get old enough, you realize there really is nothing new under the sun. When we were up north, my father-in-law took the girls to the local movie theater to see the movie Aladdin – a movie I remember seeing in the theater when I myself was young.
I don’t know if you’ve seen the movie Aladdin yet, either the original or the remake, and if you haven’t – well, the original came out almost thirty years ago, so I think we’ve officially passed the point of spoiler alerts. But hopefully at the very least you know that in the story of Aladdin, when the lead character is down on his luck and out of options, he finds a magic lamp, which just happens to be home to a magic wish-granting Genie. Aladdin begins making wishes in an effort to turn his life around, to go from being a down-on-his-luck lonely nobody to become a man with money, with respect, and most important, with love.
It’s a Disney story – full of catchy songs and magic and a happy ending. And it’s a good movie. But for many of us, our idea of who God is and how God works – well, it looks an awful lot like that big blue Disney genie. God is the plot twist, who we don’t look for until we are in dire need. And like Aladdin, who only got three wishes, we think that we have to ration our requests – we don’t want to bother God or waste God’s help, so we save our prayers for a last resort, when we’re out of options and we really need it. And we’ve internalized the “be careful what you wish for” trope, trying to word our prayers carefully to avoid unintended consequences… and then, once we’ve reached the end of our rope, and rubbed the lamp and said the magic words – we anticipate that we will get exactly what we’re wishing for.
That may be how genies work in the stories, but we quickly discover, that’s not how prayer works. Even in the story, Aladdin finds out that magic wishes aren’t enough; the Genie tweaks circumstances and opens some doors, sure, but it’s up to Aladdin to take advantage of those opportunities, to walk through those doors, and his own character and heart are revealed along the way.
What is it, then, that happens when we pray? If it’s not magic – then what’s it all about?
Maybe it’s not magic, but there is something special, something unexpected and beyond explanation, that happens when we invite God into our lives, when we recognize God’s presence and we pour out our greatest joys and the deepest hurts of our hearts. And we believe that God hears, that God knows us, that God cares about all that matters to us – and it’s profound in a way that goes far beyond words.
Prayer can be powerful; there are times when we can feel God’s presence around us and know beyond a shadow of a doubt that we are not alone. But prayer isn’t magic. There are times when we pray, and it feels like we might as well be shouting into the wind; when we pray, but it feels like we are just talking to ourselves. And we wonder: where is God? What are we doing wrong? How is it that Jesus tells his disciples, “Ask, it will be given to you” – when so many of our most fervent and earnest prayers seem to go unanswered, and we keep looking for miracles that just don’t come? We pray every week here for the sick and the hurting – but not everybody recovers. We pray for the hungry, and they’re still hungry. We pray for peace, but war rages on.We pray and we pray – but it just isn’t enough.
No wonder Jesus’ disciples asked him, “Teach us to pray.” Prayer is messy and imprecise and uncertain; even if we have all the faith in the world, we can wonder what it’s all about.
So the disciples say, “Lord, teach us to pray.” It’s not like they haven’t prayed before; these were men who had grown up hearing the Torah and keeping the Sabbath and praying the psalms. But even these faithful men were looking for something new, something deeper, something more. Maybe they were hoping, on some level, for those magic words to make all their prayers come true.
Then again, when the disciples asked Jesus to teach them how to pray, I think they were looking for more than magic words. In those days, learning your rabbi’s prayer meant you were learning your rabbi’s values and view of the world; you were learning and sharing your teacher’s way of life. That’s what the disciples are asking Jesus to share with them: not which buttons to push to make the heavenly vending machine give them what they want – but they are asking Jesus to teach them how to live. They’re saying, Show us what is important. Show us how to talk to God. Show us who God is, and who God wants us to be.
So Jesus says, “When you pray, say this: Father.” Now I know that language can be problematic; I know that we are much more sensitive and aware of gender issues than the world was two thousand years ago, and we are keenly aware of the weight of thousands of years of inherited misogyny. This one little word that Jesus uses – “Father” – this one name for God has, sadly, led to generation after generation of faithful people imagining that God is male, and so male humans more fully reflect the glory and the power of the divine. And I name that today. Our limited language has gotten in the way of our relationship with God, and with one another. I name the damage that our language for God has done, to women and to children and yes, to men, too, over the years – and on behalf of the church, I repent, and I am sorry.
“Father” can be a tricky and difficult name for God for many of us today. But if we can look past all that, just for a moment, I want us to recognize just how radical, how significant it is that, when Jesus teaches his disciples to pray, he starts with this name: by inviting them to imagine God not as an uncaring creator, to whom they must shout to get attention, nor as a distant judge, before whom the disciples need to grovel and beg… but Jesus uses the language of an intimate relationship, a family relationship, an inherent and blood relationship – he names God as the source of our being, in a very real way, as one who shares our very being, one who gives us our name and to whom we bear resemblance… and Jesus invites us to imagine God as the very best head of our family, head of household, that could ever be, one who offers protection and affection and unconditional love.
After all, Jesus says, even you will help a desperate neighbor in the middle of the night; even you will care for your hungry children… and if even you, the selfish messes that you are, know how to show love for your neighbors and your family, just imagine how much more God loves and cares for you.
Jesus says, when you pray, say, “Father.” More than that, Jesus has taught us to pray, “Our Father” – not my Father or almighty Father, but Our Father. This is a prayer meant to be prayed in community: Give us our daily bread, and forgive us as we forgive others… When we pray this prayer, we are reminded that we are not alone. God is with us, and we are also bound to one another, and we are bound to all those around the world who share this prayer: to our community, our family and our neighbors, and those who pray in churches and homes and hospital rooms and prison cells and wheat fields and refugee camps all around the world.
Jesus could have started many ways, but he starts here: with family, with community, with the reminder that we belong to one another, and we are not alone.
On then he continues: God who loves us, source of our being, hallowed by your name. Blessed be your name, holy and honored – and what we mean is, let us honor your name; let us live lives that bring honor and glory to you.
And then Jesus says, pray this: “God, may your kingdom come.”
Your kingdom come on earth, and this is what it looks like: it looks like all of us receiving the bread we need for today; it looks like a community of people who know that they’ve been forgiven, and who’ve learned how to forgive. This is what God’s kingdom looks like on earth: it looks like God’s people living into God’s kingdom, forgiving each other, caring for each other, as God has cared for us.
Praying “thy kingdom come” isn’t just about magic words, about sending our good thoughts out into the universe and then waiting for God to do the rest. Prayer isn’t like amazon.com, where you send in your order and wait for divine delivery person to drop it on your doorstep.
When we pray, “Thy kingdom come,” we commit ourselves to that kingdom. Thy kingdom come in my heart. Thy kingdom come in my life. Thy kingdom come through me. God, let your values, your priorities, your love and your grace shape me and guide me, and shape and guide us all.
In my studies this week, I read a theologian who reflected on how we often understand prayer: as a way of taking ourselves out of the equation, and putting the ball fully in God’s court. Just think of how we use and understand the phrase “thoughts and prayers” these days – it’s a socially acceptable way to say, I don’t really care about what you’re going through enough to actually do anything about it. I’ll say a few words into the universe, and then it’s God’s problem, not mine. But that’s not how prayer is meant to work. Instead, our prayers should teach us, should shape us, should move us to do something – “our lives become our prayers.”[1]
Think again about how incredible it is that, when Jesus is teaching his disciples to pray, Jesus actually compares us to God – a dim and distorted reflection of the divine, but still… he says, If even you know how to do what is good, if even you can be moved to mercy, to give good gifts to those who depend on your help… just imagine how much more God delights in sharing love and meeting needs.
And the way God meets those needs is, more often than not, through me and through you. Jesus doesn’t just point from our feeble attempts to God’s greater ones, but he reminds us that our efforts – even if they are reluctantly given – our efforts to share our abundance and show mercy with others really do make a difference: to the neighbor knocking at our door asking for bread, to the child asking for a meal – what we have, what we can do, matters. Prayer is important. But it’s not enough to pray, not when we are able to do more. As Pope Francis once said, “You pray for the hungry, then you feed them. This is how prayer works.”[2]
Prayer teaches us to look beyond ourselves. Who is it who’s knocking at your door, asking for a loaf of bread today? Who is begging us for an egg – and we’ve handed them a scorpion instead? Are our lives bringing blessing to God’s name? Are we living in such a way that God’s kingdom, God’s vision, God’s dream is coming into being through us?
We see all around us these days ways that God’s kingdom isn’t coming: God’s kingdom doesn’t look like closing hospitals, or making families bankrupt from injury or sickness while big companies pay no taxes and get bailed out; God’s kingdom doesn’t look like children going to bed hungry while food rots in the fields and spoils in our cupboards, or schools going unfunded while money is poured into weapons and walls, or neighbors at our doorstep begging for help and being thrown into camps instead – all while Christians are busy getting mad at the people who say “happy holidays” instead of Merry Christmas and who don’t stand up to sing the magic song to the magic flag before the sports begin.
God’s kingdom doesn’t look like this.
The disciples asked Jesus, teach us to pray. But prayer goes far beyond easy thoughts and empty words; prayer is about learning what matters, being reminded what’s important, and let that knowledge shape the way we live. Teach us to pray; teach us what matters: and what matters is community; what matters is forgiveness, of ourselves and of others; what matters is daily bread, and searching for that upside-down kingdom, and refusing to give a serpent to children crying for bread; what matters is tramping the snake of selfishness and greed and offering hope and grace instead.
When we pray, we believe that God listens; we know that God cares – but we don’t leave it there. We pray for God’s kingdom, and then we help that kingdom come; we pray, and then we act – that’s how prayer works.
The world has enough empty thoughts and prayers. We are called to something more; we are called to become living prayer, to live with generosity and grace, with mercy and justice, with compassion and community – so God’s kingdom may come, on earth as it in heaven.
Lord, teach us to pray; Lord, teach us to live.
God, our loving parent, the source of our being, the one who knows us better than we know ourselves: we come to you today, knowing you hear us, believing you care for us. We bring you our brokenness and our pain. We bring you our failures and our fears. We bring you our heartaches, and we bring you our hope. Forgive us, and help us to forgive. Feed us, and help us to feed others. Teach us to live into your kingdom, to live with radical hospitality and generous grace, so that your name might truly be holy and blessed. In the name of Jesus, who teaches us how to live and shows us what love is, we pray; amen.
[1] Bishop John Shelby Spong reflects on prayer here: https://progressingspirit.com/2017/01/05/the-ultimate-source-of-anti-semitism-the-circumstances-that-brought-judas-into-the-jesus-story-2/
[2] https://www.riseagainsthunger.org/quotes/pray-hungry-feed-prayer-works/
0 notes
Text
The Blockchain: A Gold and Silver Launchpad?
A new day is dawning for precious metals. Gold and silver – the world’s oldest money – are “connecting” with the newest money, digital cryptocurrencies. The final outcome of this nexus is unpredictable, but it is foolhardy to ignore what is taking place.
Will Ben Be Going Bye Bye?
Central governments around the globe have waged, against their own citizens, a virtual “War on Cash.” Efforts by Sweden to become “cash-free;” progressive “downsizing” of Eurozone currency units; a currency recall in India that affected 1.3 billion people; solemn talk about eliminating $100 and even $50 bills in the U.S. – all in the supposed fight against “drug dealing and tax evasion.”
It’s really about people control.
The War on Cash goes hand in hand with the imposition of onerous taxation levels, negative interest rates, and destruction of what little privacy we have left.
Historically, nations backed their paper currencies with gold and/or silver. Today – without a single one doing so – it might seem, as some naysayers have observed, that gold is at best a “barbarous relic;” at worst, just a “pet rock.” And yet…
The War on Cash has unleashed a hydra. From the invention less than a decade ago of the “cryptocurrency” Bitcoin, to its present-day evolution, a change of monumental significance is underway.
The Foundation Is the Blockchain
Satoshi Nakamoto is credited with the creation of Bitcoin and as part of its implementation, devised the first blockchain database. By definition, a blockchain “allows connected computers to talk to each other, rather than through a central server. Using a ‘consensus mechanism’ the connected computers on the network stay in sync and agree with each other.” Every data entry references an earlier one, agreeing with the entire chain. (Summary from an essay by Peter van Valkenburgh.)
Three years ago, David Morgan aired his views in an essay titled, “My Two Bits about Bitcoin.” The technology was complex, relatively slow, and looked to become unwieldy. This was 15 months before the debut of a process that now holds the potential to turn night into day for just about any kind of online commercial transaction… and could spark a revolution for the use of “digital gold and silver.”
The key (for now) is Ethereum. Ethereum is a computing platform – and a cryptocurrency… that runs smart contracts – applications that run exactly as programmed without the possibility of downtime, censorship, fraud, or third-party interference (ethereum.org).
The Potential and the Promise
In Venezuela, one ounce of gold buys a house.
Acceptance of gold and silver as a store of value and medium of exchange most likely pre-dates recorded history. Then someone (the Chinese?) got the bright idea to create a paper substitute exchangeable for, but still backed by, precious metal.
This worked swimmingly until they decided to print unlimited amounts of what David Morgan at The Morgan Report has so famously termed “paper promises.” These promises are never fully honored, causing the eventual decline of a circulated currency’s purchasing power to zero.
The original promise of value is accepted in good faith, but when that promise is broken through devaluation, faith evaporates, along with the value of the once-supported currency. For proof of this today, look no further than Venezuela.
Digital Metal Data Points
A number of firms work to merge cryptocurrencies with physical gold and silver. The weakness of purely digital money is that it is unbacked by anything tangible. It only works for people who have electricity and are connected to the Internet. Physical gold and silver don’t rely upon the grid and can never be “hacked.”
Cryptocurrencies such as Bitcoin cost almost nothing to transfer around the globe and they promise to be easy to transact with (akin to using a credit card). If those digital tokens can be anchored to tangible gold and silver bars, they could be more compelling as a store of value.
As you read the following passage in italics from an interview with Beautyon, editor of bitcoin-think, conducted on lfb.org., try substituting the term “digital metals” wherever you see “bitcoin.” Doing so shows the potential, the promise, and very possibly – eventual reality – for the evolving union of digital metals with physical gold and silver.
Bitcoin will succeed. There is nothing any government can do to stop it… No amount of time can put the Bitcoin genie back in the bottle…. (it) is good money, and all the State can produce is bad money… Bitcoin means the final death of government fiat money. It means the end of Big Government. It means an era of unprecedented prosperity, as savings once again become the source of investment.
Will the Promise Be Honored?
The keys to the argument are that when a person purchases digital metal, it must be stored in a secure location, in physical form of a stated purity, immediately available to its designated owner upon demand. It is not being loaned to others. The price is transparent, accurate, and available globally.
The “authorities” have always sought, and will continue to try to control, peoples’ activities. But to the extent that investable physical gold and silver are removed from the control of exchanges and government coffers, and placed under “supervision” of the individual, the ability to manipulate the price and physical supply will deteriorate.
This, I believe, is the potential that digital metal represents. It will operate on a decentralized, secure, transparent platform. The blockchain and the portal through which it flows could be Ethereum or a similar protocol.
And if the “promise” is not honored? Then the concept of digital metal will be dispatched to irrelevance in the dustbin of history, as other experiments which have toyed with its essence have been. But pass or fail, no amount of digital tinkering will be able to stunt demand for gold and silver. Rather, the result will have simply been to introduce millions of new holders to the virtues of physical precious metals ownership.
Unintended Consequences
Global governments, having previously removed metals’ backing from the currencies they print, now attempt to force their citizens into holding only digital paper currency “wealth.” How ironic it will be, if by these very actions, the ultimate effect turns out to be the unleashing of new demand waves for digital metal – redeemable for physical gold and silver.
Last week, Stewart Thomson of Graceland Updates predicted the following:
“Going forwards, India-China operated digital gold wrapped in blockchain technology will be the undisputed currency of the world gold community, a 3-billion-person-strong titanic force…. This is the beginning of the end for world gold price manipulation, and you can take that to the bank.”
David Smith is Senior Analyst for TheMorganReport.com and a regular contributor to MoneyMetals.com. For the past 15 years, he has investigated precious metals’ mines and exploration sites in Argentina, Chile, Mexico, Bolivia, China, Canada, and the U.S. He shares his resource sector findings with readers, the media, and North American investment conference attendees.
The post The Blockchain: A Gold and Silver Launchpad? appeared first on Gold Silver Worlds.
from Gold Silver Worlds http://goldsilverworlds.com/money-currency/blockchain-gold-silver-launchpad/
0 notes
Text
**Yawn**
I galloped out of the house this morning. GALLOPED!
The house had finally descended into some semblance of peace and I took every advantage, slung on my bags, grabbed the keys and escaped. I have absolutely no idea what chaos might have kicked off after I left…but I wasn’t there to witness it, so I didn’t care!
Bonkers morning.
I had to be in for 8am this morning. My boss had a videoconference scheduled with the Zurich office. Being a global telecommunications company this means getting the videocon to work SHOULD be easy, but it very rarely is. So I wanted to be there to get it started. I live quite a commute from the London office – between 1hr 40mins and 2 hours – so, working backwards, I would have to be out the house by 6am at the very latest. That meant the alarm going off at 4am.
So far, so good - on paper.
Last night, met up with a few of the Beds South RSPCA team to run through some plans and ideas we have for a ‘Crafternoon Tea’ event we’re planning on Sunday 19th November. It’ll be held a Parkside in Ampthill and we’ll be inviting people to sell their wares at various tables, running a Bake Off and serving teas/coffees and cakes. Going to be heaps of fun and we’ll hopefully raise a fair bit of money for the Branch ahead of the Festive Season - which is always expensive when caring for animals. Get it in the diaries if you’re in the area!
It was great meeting up and I always come away from these get-togethers very energised. And so wasn’t all THAT tired when I got home. Made a big fuss of Oscar when I got in and then let him out the back door. It was getting quite late – especially for a 4am start the next day – but I had fingers crossed he wouldn’t stay out too late.
But OF COURSE he did, didn’t he…?
Had made a fuss of Freya and she’d done her normal wanna go out, wanna come in, wanna go out while I was getting myself ready for bed. Sat with the foster girls for a little while. They’re both SO affectionate. Really incredible given the dreadful circumstances they’ve come from. They’re still largely wee-stained and don’t seem ready to start grooming themselves yet, so was trying out a suggestion of dabbing some tuna juice on their paws and stuff, to encourage them to lick it off. They sure liked the tuna juice in the bowl I’d brought up ….but then seemed more interested in larking about than washing.
Ah well….I hoped they’d have a go during the night.
Still no sign of Oscar….**sigh** By now I was starting to get really tired…and was watching the clock just nudge past 11.30pm.
Now I KNOW it sounds crazy…..I KNOW this cat was a stray for a good few months, hanging around the front of Tesco during the deepest winter months. I KNOW he survived JUST FINE in those conditions. But that doesn’t change the fact that I worry about him when he’s out and really don’t sleep well if I lock him out overnight. I’m usually kept awake by my own dreadful imagination. So I’ve taken to sleeping on the couch with the conservatory door open so he can come back in his own good time – usually after 2am…and I can ward off any burglars…erm….
And he doesn’t sneak back in either. He announces he’s home loudly with a series of Oscar-sized miaows and will promptly jump onto the couch and bother me for a cuddle and food. Not the food I’ve left out for him, mind – no. That’s now a few hours old so just won’t do and is ignored. He wants FRESH food. So whatever time he gets back means me getting up, locking the back door, feeding Furry Chops and then dragging the duvet back up to bed.
This morning, however, that Oscar activity (at 2.30am) was enough to set off the girls…who then started playing in their room. They’re only little things but they make quite a racket…especially when they start chasing each other. I worry about the neighbours because there’s quite a bit of loud thudding goes on. Pretty sure their bedroom doesn’t back onto mine (and Ray next door is elderly and hard of hearing) but I still get a little anxious when they’re crashing and dashing at that time of the morning.
So, in these instances, I usually go in and sleep on the floor with them. I started doing this when I got my first foster, little Shadow, and she would start playing and chasing things in the wee hours. The intention was to, more or less, ‘get in the way’ by sleeping on the floor and encourage them to quieten down and go back to bed.
This worked with Shadow. It also worked with Genie and Susie.
It isn’t working with Gina and Flora.
A new game has, in fact, been developed around ‘The Lady in The Way’. The aim is still to chase each other around the room – but now there’s the added extra of leaping OVER The Lady In The Way! And then back again! And again! And again! Despite Lady In The Way making ‘sssshh!’ noises!
Within a very short space of time, I’d sustained several scratches on my head and arm – when one or the other hadn’t quite cleared The Lady In The Way.
But every time I sat up and tried to quieten them, they’d turn on the purr and cuddle offensive. And Flora LOVES to have her belly stroked.
And then I’d try to lie down and get some sleep and two purry faces - smelling faintly of wee and now tuna juice as well - would push their cold little noses in my face. Or one or the other would lie on top of me. Which was making me nervous because they’re so slight – and I’m worried I turn in my sleep and crush them!
Of course, that would entail actually being able to go to sleep, now, wouldn’t it??
Flora stops charging about to start noisily crunching some biscuits.
I’m now hiding their one toy underneath the duvet with me because they keep battering the ball around it.
More charging around. More Leap Over The Lady. More cuddling and purring. More tickling.
Starts to quieten down.
Gina decides to have a very smelly poo.
More purring. More headbutting me in the face. Flora does her best imitation of being a scarf with her back legs up my nose.
…..and at some point somehow I must have fallen asleep. For, what could only have been, a scant few minutes.
That was just so that the alarm could wake me at 4am.
I lie there for a few minutes. The girls are in their snug, cuddled up to each other and peering at me.
They decide that’s their cue for some more snuggles and purring and head butting. I can’t help but smile as I’m giving them a tickle. They’re SO loving and affectionate!
After 10 mins or so, I drag myself up and out their bedroom. I take their ball toy with me because I don’t want them making a racket at 4.10am.
I’ve already decided that, because I have-to, have-to catch a particular train and don’t want to leave Oscar locked out all day (won’t be home ‘til 8-ish), that I’m not going to risk it and so won’t let him out. This is going to mean Oscar is in a bad mood. He’s not a morning-cat anyway. And, so’s not to upset apple-carts by opening the back door for Freya, I’m not going to let her out either. There are plenty of litter trays around the house.
I’m in the shower and start hearing a helluva clattering and bashing and thudding. Peer out from the shower curtain. It’s Oscar. He’s got the ball toy I’ve confiscated from the girls and is battering seven bells out of it. I try to shush and hiss him from the shower but I’m being ignored. I’m being ignored because he’s grumpy in the morning and I’ve gone for a shower instead of letting him out.
Jump out the shower and shoo him off. He heads downstairs. Promptly picks a fight with Freya who is waiting for the back door to be opened. Freya yells the place down, hissing furiously and runs for her bookshelf. Oscar chases her and there’s all sorts of thudding and crashing as Freya jumps onto the one shelf then the upper shelf, followed by Oscar who is only agile enough to make the lower shelf.
And this then was pretty much the next, nearly two hours while I’m trying to get ready for work. The girls upstairs start chasing each other around noisily, Oscar keeps bothering Freya who is having none of the fact that I’m not opening the back door so keeps jumping off her shelf (noisily) to stand at the back door. To then be ambushed by Oscar who wants out as well. More yowling and hissing, more jumping all over the shelves. The girls crashing about upstairs. Me, up and down the stairs, either trying to shush the girls by fussing them and turning their play into purring and cuddling or hissing between gritted teeth at Oscar and Freya.
At one point, I think “I know, I’ll let Gina and Flora out of the spare bedroom. A little wandering about the house might quieten then down to at least give me long enough to get my knickers on the right way ‘round.” So I open the door and Flora makes a dash for the gap.
Terrific….suddenly Oscar and Freya appear – in unison – from behind me when NANOSECONDS ago they were downstairs chasing and hissing. Flora and Freya freeze at the sight of each other. Oscar – the big buffoon he is – goes barrelling into the bedroom scaring Gina into a giant furball. More hissing and hysteria from, now, all blummin’ FOUR of them!
I trip over the ball toy trying to get to Oscar and then that’s ME crashing about noisily in the spare bedroom.
I grab Oscar. He’s not in the mood for being lifted. And, it seems, he has a magic knack of doubling in weight when he doesn’t want to be lifted. So he weighs a ton, and I have to climb OVER Freya and Flora who are still frozen and staring at each other….and carry Oscar down the stairs. He’s now hissing at ME! With some wriggling, manage to get the door to the conservatory open and put Oscar in the conservatory. He’s really fed up with me and takes a swipe. I go upstairs with the intention of breaking the spell keeping Freya and Flora in suspended animation and get Freya into my room. I try a little gentle ‘shush-shush-shush’ as I’m nearing the top. Freya turns and bolts down the stairs nearly taking me out and charges noisily back onto her shelf.
I go back upstairs to see Flora climbing back into her concertina file and Gina staring at me wide-eyed from her snug. Everything was my fault, her face was saying…everything in the whole wide world. I close the door on them breathing a sigh of relief that they’re still safe.
Took me 15 minutes to coax Freya down from her shelf using treats and finally, FINALLY get her into my bedroom where I leave her and food and biscuits for the day. If Oscar is in a BAD mood, best I keep them separated. I go in and check the girls. Flora pokes her head out from the concertina file but it’s just to give me a reproachful glare. Gina also isn’t looking like she’s forgiving me any time this century.
I go downstairs and let Oscar out the conservatory. He hates me too….and won’t come out of the conservatory but is sitting giving me daggers.
But it’s enough…..there is, for the first time ALL morning – and we’re talking pretty much since 2.30am – there’s silence in the house. Every cat hates me….but it’s QUIET for the first time in hours. I close my eyes. I am sooooooo sleepy! But, take the opportunity while you can! I do one last run around the house, making sure every cat has plenty to eat and the trays are clean. Then I grab all my stuff and charge out the door.
“Honest, when I left, the house was quiet Your Honour….”
x
0 notes
Last Seen Blogs
betterskatethannever
Better Skate than Never
technan
1097n.zip
emiton
Moth
spacedadlives
space dad lives
oneofthebeautifulpeople
OneoftheBeautiful
People