#I needed to look at his characterization from original to spinoff
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I did some Souichi studies because I’m love he <3 (Patreon)
Bonus:
Here are the Studies compared to their Originals btw :3
So like, not a joke, not an exaggeration, I’m pretty sure this is my favourite panel in the entire Challengers/KoiBo continuity (and I decided to draw it first lol - it’s ‘cause I have such big feelings about it!!) It just hhhhhh, it so perfectly encapsulates everything he’s feeling in that moment; disbelief, betrayal, uncertainty, distrust, conflict - every moment of love he’s built up to that point has been thrown into immediate relief to what he’s been told and it’s all there, right on his face, it’s such a masterfully done expression ;; <3 I legit cry every time I reread, that whole scene is just so good, I could actually talk forever about his relationship with Morinaga in that one moment
The rest aren’t nearly so intense lol, mostly just grabbed from moments when I thought he was being especially cute <3 Concerned lad! His hair is so swoopy in Challengers hehe <3 <3 It’s actually even fluffier in his super early-on appearances, which are also excellent >:3c But I still like his KoiBo look best ♪ You can also see it’s a bit of a challenge to make his face as slim as he actually is, just thicken the lines inward until it almost looks right! Lol
I love this panel haha, everyone so silly chibi’d out. You can also really get a good look at how ridiculous his hair is, look at how the tuft that’s tucked behind his ear joins up with the tie! How does he tie it up like that, consistently?? How is he allowed in labs like that!! He’s ridiculous <3
Confused and blushy Souichi ft. Morinaga, I just kind of filled in the details he was covering lol. I love Souichi being dumb and having no self-awareness <3 He’s actually quite intelligent and emotionally aware a surprising majority of the time! But his blind spots leave big gaps haha
I love when he has his eyebrows in a relatively neutral position, he’s normally so grumpy! He looks so friendly even with just a neutral expression :D Plus his hair!! The way it’s communicated to be thin and feathery by being able to “see through it” to his lab coat, ah <3 Handsomest
Shy boy <3 I also really love the way his hands and wrists are shaped, such cool lines ah
I could’ve sworn he and Morinaga were like, almost the same size in Challengers... I guess Morinaga did have a second growth spurt, but still! It’s just an excuse to see him being cute!! Oh noooooo (lol)
Grump man <3 Beauty boy <3 His hair flows so beautifully!
It’s also fun to see a younger Souichi in a flashback, rather than in the Challengers style haha. He was a mess by himself, he’d hate to hear it but he really only does well with others haha. I also love how this scene is from the POV of one of his admirers, Momo is such a good girl and she’s so right <3
He’s being such a meanie to his sister in this scene lol, he’s the worst! <3 I was going to leave it at that, but adding his little frameless-glasses stem holes really made it look like Spamton’s googly eyes and I about lost it lol
#Doodles#Koisuru Boukun#Warning: Mushy design and characterization love ramblings under the cut lol#My beautiful trash boy <3 <3#So I actually have a folder specifically dedicated to just Souichi's beautiful face/interesting behaviours lol#They're mostly collected from the last big reread but I have some from years and years and years ago!#The last big reread also included Challengers because Morinaga >:| Fucker Supreme (derogatory)#I needed to look at his characterization from original to spinoff#But Souichi is the only one with the dedicated folder lol#He deserves it <3 Little insect man <3 <3 Poison nerd Engrish enjoyer Idiot man <3 <3 <3#He actually really fun to draw??? I ran out of room on my paper but I was like ''Well I could fit just one more...Well maybe just one more!'#I ended up with several half-finished sketches because I just straight up could not fit any more on the page lol#If I'm able to capture even a little bit of the reasons that I find him so beautiful and lovely and interesting in my own art then I'm happy#His hair! His eyes! His caring nature! His opinionated blind spots! His childishness and his trauma and his self-expression hhhhhh#I love him so much what a beautifully flawed character <3 <3 <3#Watching him grow into himself for over a decade has been such a wonderful experience as a reader hh#Plenty of bumps along the way lol but I don't think I could stop loving him even if I tried hehe
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Watching a review of the Wednesday show and the guy was like "this show is good because it was everything Chilling Adventures of Sabrina should have been" and I was just like, bro no
Like I said it from the get go that this show was literally going to be a Sabrina knockoff and he literally just confirmed all of my suspicions, but said it was a good thing the show went this route and I just. That's the ultimate problem with the show that it would rather take aesthetics from Riverdale and Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, shows with great visuals but shitty writing that get tons of clicks rather than risk making something that would be respectful to the source material but an original work of art in this age of cliche Netflix Riverdale aesthetic teen dramas, like the main issue is that they didn't make the Wednesday show like this because they thought it would serve the family and their narrative they made it like this because it would be profitable. In no world should you be comparing some Riverdale spinoff to an Addams Family property, there should not be a world where we make the Addams Family a Riverdale aesthetic murder mystery show (which btw that was Riverdale's season one, a murder mystery), that's not their core, that's not their aesthetic, I don't want to live in a world where The Addams Family are two steps away from crossing over with a Riverdale property, the dialogue he played to show how well written the show was, made me cringe so much, like it was basic and cliche and it didn't subvert anything the way the Addams Family is supposed to and it just feels like such a waste of Jenna Ortega as Wednesday, because I do agree with him that she was insanely well cast and deserves to be Wednesday in a property that is actually good and is actually The Addams Family, they all do, this cast is like the only good thing this show adds to The Addams Family canon. He's not completely charitable to the show and he does point out the obvious flaws with the terrible love triangle, the cringey side characters, and the lackluster way they try to wrap up the big conspiracy at the end, but he admitted that he never liked the Addams Family or knows anything about the OG family and so taking his word on this show is something that needs to be taken with a massive grain of salt.
The issue at the core of this review is that he doesn't understand the source material and he doesn't understand that taking Wednesday away from her family and making her into a Chilling Adventures of Sabrina knockoff doesn't quite mesh with the source material's original intent and I don't think you always need to stick to the source material especially with something as lose as The Addams Family, but when the show is just ultimately Tim Burton trying to keep his career and his white goth aesthetic alive and using a property with characters already known by the public in order to ensure the most profit possible (remember Netflix telling Craig McCracken they didn'twant any new IPs only reboots and sequels) putting this family into a show that is antithesis to their core artistic directive and the way they just completely butchered every other character's personality in the Addams Family besides Wednesday is beyond disappointing. It's just so obvious after watching this review to me that the show only used The Addams Family for their aesthetic and that they (Tim Burton) wanted to use Wednesday Addams as a Winona Ryder goth manic pixie dream girl archetype rather than what her characterization and her family's characterization actually is
I think the biggest thing I took away from his review is that the Riverdale creator is a desparate Tim Burton wannabe who can't write a good script to save his life and so it makes sense to me that the new Tim Burton show was just a Riverdale looking teen drama with slightly better writing
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Honestly when my sleep schedule gets really nocturnal and I start just like. Watching YouTube videos at night to fill time sometimes my mind wanders to weird places for random ideas.
I’m watching a Silent Hill video right now and part of my brain is considering what degree of turd polishing would be required for the controversial games. Some needing more than others obviously, like Downpour is very bad but Origins only needs minor tweaking in some places, Shattered Memories works as an alternate universe story and mostly suffers gameplay drawbacks as a Wii experiment, The Room also is largely a gameplay and crunch sort of issue, I think the story is good, it just had struggles in expressing that story. Homecoming had ideas it. Uh. I don’t know if the studio interfered or the creative team just wasn’t… creative *enough* to properly execute the ideas they came up with.
And genuinely I think Downpour drew so much from Twin Peaks that they moved Silent Hill to the other side of the country. It looks so Pacific Northwest for a town in Maine like. Sure, maybe Maine can like Washington sometimes, but if it was a TV show I would have assumed they had slashed their budget filming in Vancouver. And the telltale approach to storytelling didn’t work. I can work with the prison idea if they weren’t cowards about committing to it, but they are. The American Silent Hill games were absolute cowards about their protagonists actually having any moral complexities, unless you got “bad” endings, and I think that’s part of how they kind of failed the concept of Silent Hill.
Dunno if I would actually have the energy or motivation to *do* anything about it, but definitely *thinking* about it now. Alex and Murphy need to actively have more solid characters and demons to tackle personally before their games could be revamped, because their games also had really weak monsters and their monsters should be tied to their personal demons. Alex had pretty decent boss monsters since that side of his story was the only part that really kind of worked? But otherwise his game doesn’t work and it does come back to how he doesn’t really exist or have depths to draw on. And Murphy is even more shallow since his past is filled in by player action and mostly exists to be shocking and… feels like a morality tale with no substance, rather than an actual character journey anyone might relate to. And the clumsy crunch impacted gameplay just hammers that home.
Travis technically also has his issues in Homecoming which like. Wasn’t great, but it tucks itself off in the corner of “awkward characterization prequel fanfic” that’s like. Idk, write the characters better or something. It feels less annoying because it wasn’t a small handheld spinoff for a while that was one of the first spinoffs and it just seems like… idk. It was a smaller game just trying to be a little thing. And while like, they did Lisa dirty and I’m not sure they paid a whole lot of attention to the game they were writing a prequel to, like. It’s fine. It happens. Whatever.
I’m not touching Ascension, nothing can save it.
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thinking (yet again!) about the differences between the bad batch story reels and the season seven arc and like... some changes just blow my mind because all it did, really, was make the bad batch less likable.
lets star with the whole “reg” thing. if i remember correctly, in the originals “regs” is said twice. the first instance is by crosshair when taunting jesse in the LAAT. the second is said by hunter: he tells tech (who’s hacking into the cyber center) that he and wrecker are going to “go get the regs” (i.e. rex and jesse). that is, hunter only used it among his squad when the others were not present (much like how cody informs that the bad batch are defective clones out of earshot. these words are descriptors, but there’s also an offense associated to being referred to by them). the idea that hunter has restraint referring to regular clones this way in their faces connects, i think, to how hunter was a tad more apologetic to jesse in the original script. “he means regular clones. don’t take it personal. it’s just that we don’t always follow protocol” carried an actual sense of hunter trying to convince jesse that it’s nothing to do with him.
it’s interesting, i think, that in a context where you have clones and defective clones, that the bad batch (as defective clones) would find a way to talk about other clones in reference to themselves in a way that normalizes their own existence. it also introduces the idea that the bad batch experience a level of disconnect, and even animosity, in regards to other clones. all that can be conveyed by only using the word twice. the season seven episodes added three more instances, and in all of them the bad batch members comfortably throw the word around the clones who “are regs.” the sense of separateness (which, again, was already established/achieved by using it just two times) is only made stronger (thus more needs to be done to portray a sense of reconciliation or coming together. the reels succeed this to an extent because that barrier wasn’t built up as high).
so yeah in the original... wrecker didn’t say “we always get shot down when we travel with regs,” he kept quiet as he helped people out of the wrecked gunship (in fact, wrecker lost a lot of subtlety going from the reels to the final eps, which i’ll get back to). hunter didn’t fake-compliment rex with a “not bad, for a reg”! and oh boy crosshair’s comment implying that echo is worthless and expendable because he’s a “reg”... yeah that was not in the reels either. in fact, not only does crosshair not call echo a reg, the meaning of his original dialogue was completely different.
in the original, after hunter voices his suspicions echo might be dead, crosshair suggests that if alive echo could be cooperating with the enemy, making him a traitor. rex takes this as an attack on echo’s character and crosshair explains that no, he’s not intending to insult echo, by saying: “oh i don’t blame him, if i were left for dead, i wouldn’t be so loyal.” and like!!!!! that’s such a radically different line of dialogue because crosshair seems to blame rex for having left echo behind, actually. if you betrayed the republic to survive, or even out of spite, i don’t blame you even if you now present a threat to myself and my family, is such an interesting, empathetic sentiment. and that contrasts with the lack of regard given to rex, making it read like he’s condemning rex for leaving someone behind. crosshair doesn’t seem to understand, as an experimental commando clone, the pressures rex as a legion captain is under, because he’s seen a less expandable (they’re a specially trained four man team, if one dies that’s 25% of the unit gone. is there a replacement for that member? you get the idea). so you’ve got a clash between different povs, but also crosshair being shown as having a set of morals, chief among them being that you do not leave anyone behind. so remember when rex says to move out and crosshair goes “commander cody is in no position to move” yeah i’d say that’s crosshair making sure cody isn’t being left behind. when crosshair saves anakin? that’s because he saw anakin go off on his own and followed him. because you don’t leave people behind. and like... the idea that yeah crosshair is an asshole. he’s unpleasant and that’s deliberate. he doesn’t care if people like him and he’s not trying to be liked. but that he values the lives of other people and looks out for them? that makes an interesting, flawed and multifaceted character. that got lost in the dialogue change because its no longer suggested that crosshair holds these values.
as for what i said earlier about wrecker: he lost subtle, nonverbal moments through the addition of lines that are either anticlimactic or only serve to make him seem loud or ditzy in an exaggerated fashion. he didn’t laugh when the LAAT came down. he was quiet as he helped people out of the downed gunship (no comment about regs!). he didn’t say “boom” when the ship exploded in the background after he flipped it over (the difference? a character moment that’s actually cool and impressive vs something that’s corny). when wrecker comes to crosshair’s aid by picking rex off of him, there was no quippy one liner. there was no need for anything to be said for it to be understood that wrecker is acting as a barrier and it trying to intimidate rex. when he’s afraid to get onto the elevator? that’s conveyed visually through camera angles and through hunter picking up on the fact that he’s scared. he doesn’t scream (if you can call a comical “aah what is that thing oh no its going to get me” a scream) when the organic decimator almost gets him. when they walk across the pipe? wrecker doesn’t whimper or talk to himself for comfort. he is scared of heights, that’s already been established, but he’s also a grown man and a soldier like he’s keeping that to himself? like we see wrecker hesitating to walk on the ledge but doing it anyway because he has to. in a piece of dialogue that was cut, tech said “does anyone want to know the odds of us making it across alive?” to which wrecker (who’s you know already having a bad time) interrupts with “don’t even think about it, tech” (if ur curious, this exchange was replaced with: wrecker: “keep walking tech!” tech: “that’s fine, but if you fall don’t take me with you” which???? uuh weird exchange). also, the fact that wrecker was mostly dealing with his fear silently means that when hunter tells wrecker to hold on because they’re almost there... that’s because hunter knows he’s scared and is checking up on him. basically... any kind of serious moment was cheapened by having wrecker talk in them. now i don’t want to say that DBB is a bad voice actor, but his expertise is making animal noises. he’s not able to do a realistic, deep voice, meaning that whenever wrecker talks he kind of sounds like a joke. it’s fine when wrecker is actual being lighthearted and jokey, but otherwise? the emotion just does not come across as genuine, which breaks the stakes or weakens credibility.
and god the whole plot point about the bad batch being suspicious of echo was nonexistent in the reels. the “don’t worry, echo says he’s got a plan”/”that makes me feel so much better” exchange between rex and tech is in the original, but tech’s sarcasm isn’t from doubting echo’s allegiance, it’s because they’re planning to land on admiral trench’s ship and echo having a plan (that he himself doesn’t know) doesn’t exactly soothe his anxieties. rex acts like tech’s being a big joker and playfully shoves him, telling him to get on board. which is an interesting interaction because these characters are kind of starting to bond?? as for tech and echo, they kinda become nerdy friends really quick. like when tech warns echo not to send the signal right away because he first needs to make it look like it’s coming from skako minor, echo’s like “oh yeah good thinking tech.” and when echo figures out a way to shut down all the droids at once tech is impressed and lightly shoves his shoulder. again there is none of that “oooh maybe echo’s a traitor maybe he’s with the techno union” shit. like i understand that the writers wanted to up the stakes but it falls flat because the idea of echo being a traitor isn’t credible. it does not seem like an actual risk or possibility. so all it did was make the bad batch seem like assholes, cutting away at some very nice character moments.
ok this is a long post and you might ask yourself “but tumblr user rishi-eel, why do you care so much about the story reels, this stuff isn’t canon now” and there are a couple reasons, first, i think it managed to tell a better story overall. so the question is: why is that? because you would expect that writers reworking the plot would add improvements and not downgrades. and to be fair, the s7 episodes had a bunch of upgrades, but not when it came to the characterization of the bad batch. another thing to consider is that changes were made in the context of setting the bad batch up as future protagonists of their own spinoff series (something the original arc was not intended to do because there were no plans for a bad batch series). were the characters made flatter and more archetypal to add to marketability? was the reg/defective clone rivalry (and dichotomy, even) amplified because this separateness serves a narrative in which the bad batch are heroes and the other clones villains?
#long post#clone force 99#the bad batch#it's late and i haven't proof read so there might be typos and stuff but. here are my thoughts#rishi-outposts.txt
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Hey im a newbie in the madoka fandom. What medias i definetly need to watch/read?? Ive watched the anime of magia record and the main anime of Madoka Magica plus Rebellion. Is there something else i should do??
Hi there! It sounds like you've made great headway already! I'd say your next stop should be the various spinoff manga. I wrote a post detailing the spinoff manga and what order I rank them in (as well as where you can read them online).
My personal recommendation would be to start by reading The Different Story. It's imo the best PMMM spinoff and one every Madoka fan must read. It gives you so much extra depth into the Holy Quintet, especially Mami and Kyoko (if you like Mami at all, you will appreciate the hell out of this manga for giving her so much extra characterization). The post I linked explains more about what this manga is about, but it's honestly just fantastic.
My second recommendation would be to read Puella Magi Tart Magica, my favorite standalone spinoff. It focuses on Joan of Arc (called Tart here) as a magical girl as she and her allies fight on behalf of France during the Hundred Years’ War. I mean, come on, historical ladies don't get much cooler than Joan of Arc, and seeing her as a magical girl is just fantastic. Tart Magica is also a great piece of historical fiction; the mangaka did a ton of research on that era and gives a lot of interesting historical background. I'm someone who normally doesn't care for historical fiction but what can I say, you can add magical girls to anything and I'll eat it up, lol. Anyway, this is another series I very highly recommend.
My third recommendation would be to explore Magia Record more. There's a manga being published of the game story that I highly recommend reading (I recommend supporting the official publication by buying copies, but you can see if you like it by downloading scans here). There are also videos of game content (both Arc 1 and Arc 2's main story, as well as individual magical girl stories and events) available on YouTube (scroll down to "Story Content/Translations"). It's a lot to take in, but I recommend focusing on the main story first! Magia Record isn't perfect by any means, but it introduced dozens of very lovable new magical girls to the PMMM canon so it's A+ in my book.
Finally, if you want even more world-building, I highly recommend reading through the Wiki’s pages on the various routes in the Madoka Magica Portable game. It’s a game for the PSP that was unfortunately never released in English (although it looks like someone is currently working on a translation), which is really a shame because it has top-notch world-building and characterization. Mami's route in particular is fantastic. The PSP game is actually where the designs of Candeloro (Mami’s Witch), Ophelia (Kyoko’s Witch), and Homulilly (Homura’s Witch) originate from, which were later used for the Doppels in Magia Record.
Anyway, I hope I didn't overwhelm you, lol.
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Daisuke’s characterization in V-Tamer is actually out of character
This is a post rather different from the usual content I do for this blog, and to be honest, I’m a bit hesitant about it, since it’s hard not to make it sound like some kind of scathingly critical negativity about the relevant chapter. It’s not intended that way -- V-Tamer’s crossover chapter with 02 lies firmly in “Bandai-commissioned spinoff” territory with what was most likely very little input from the anime staff, and with these kinds of things, right hand very rarely talks to left hand, and you see it in things like Tag Tamers having major contradictions with the anime despite how ostensibly important it is to 02′s story. Izawa and Yabuno were busy with V-Tamer production, and it’s very likely Toei and Bandai only provided them with very scant details of 02′s base premise (especially since the chapter itself doesn’t refer to any major 02 plot details besides XV-mon’s and Magnamon’s existence). I really do not blame them for not necessarily having thorough awareness of Daisuke and his character arc (especially since he himself is a rather deceptive character), and having to make a lot of assumptions while writing.
In the end, I decided to write this due to personal request from an acquaintance, who pointed out that there are a lot of people out there who like to claim things like "Daisuke got more character development in this single chapter than he did in 02 itself” (which is another manifestation of the constantly repeated fanbase mantra that Daisuke was lacking in that department when he really wasn’t). The thing is, this chapter’s interpretation of Daisuke is so far removed from the character he was even at the start of 02 that this “development” only works by artificially engineering a conflict that shouldn’t have even happened with Daisuke in the first place.
Again: This is not something meant to criticize this chapter as something bad (personally, I do think it’s rather entertaining in its own way) as much as, simply, out of character is still out of character, and I'm mainly just writing this in the hopes of making a case that this version of Daisuke should not be reflected back on the original series.
(Screenshots below are from the DH translation of V-Tamer, and PositronCannon’s 02 subs.)
The issue here is that the whole plot of the chapter itself is based on the idea that Daisuke is the kind of person who likes fighting for the sake of fighting, and has an impulsive urge to charge in aggressively to the point of even looking down on his friends for denying him. Certainly, on the surface, it does seem to match up with Daisuke still having difficulties adjusting to these new kids being his friends at the beginning of the series, and generally having an abrasive, rough-around-the-edges personality, but...
Ah.
The above screenshots are from 02 episode 7, which is a very early episode -- one that clearly takes place before Magnamon’s appearances in Hurricane Touchdown and 02 episode 20-21, and XV-mon’s appearance in 02 episode 22 -- and one that’s still part of Daisuke’s early bout of “shallow” episodes, in which he’s still instinctively lashing out at Takeru due to his perception of having something going on with Hikari. And while he does initially lash out at them for wanting to turn back, the moment everyone else makes a good case for them turning back (especially when their own Digimon run out of energy), he -- rather easily -- grits his teeth and actually calls the retreat himself.
On top of the fact that Daisuke is very capable of pulling back when he practically understands it’s necessary (even if he hates it), some important points need to be made about his behavior here: Daisuke does not push forward on fighting because he likes fighting and attacking things, but because he practically wants to see the Dark Tower destroyed (and the Dark Tower is causing problems for everyone everywhere right now). He hates the Kaiser, and wants to fight everyone under him, because he’s hurting others. Only one episode later, Daisuke vocalizes that he’s even okay with losing a soccer game as long as he gets to play someone who’s inspired kids all over the country and enjoy the match.
The other problem is that it actually implies that Daisuke would be able to do anything without his friends’ approval. Despite Daisuke’s ostensibly rough surface demeanor, he gets strung along easily. It is absurdly easy to shut him down or override his opinions just by being assertive enough. There’s a very good reason why he’s been described as “prevented from doing much in the first half”. Daisuke spends the first half of the series largely unable to make his own decisions because his friends keep making them for him, and part of his character development involves him becoming able to actually put his foot down and do what he wants when it’s something he cares about, which is something that very much does not set in until the second half.
In addition, the implication that Daisuke would be actively belligerent to the point of having the priority of “destroying enemies” instead of “helping others” is very contrary to the whole point of his character arc:
In 02 episode 20, the first time Daisuke does truly put his foot down against the wishes of the others in the group, it’s because seeing Chimeramon destroy so many things hurt him that badly that he hates sitting around and doing nothing. Again: Daisuke is a person who does things because he cares about and wants to protect others, not because he necessarily likes fighting. It’s also important that he makes this statement that he’ll go in “even alone” -- he does not look down on the others or show distaste for them for choosing to recuse, because they’re understandably exhausted, but simply says that he’s frustrated at the idea of giving up this one chance, and doesn’t want to squander it. (It’s also consistent with the way he treats the mortified Ken in 02 episode 48 -- he reminds him that Jogress won’t work if Ken’s not feeling up to it, and says that he’ll do it alone if he has to because something has to be done.)
And speaking of Ken, this trait of Daisuke’s is why that whole character arc of him reaching out to Ken works in the first place! Because, again, Daisuke hated the Kaiser because he was doing horrible things. The moment the Kaiser stopped doing horrible things, Daisuke didn’t feel up to kicking him while he was down, actually urged him to do the first thing he could do to make amends -- “go home” -- and ultimately chose to reach out to him because he thinks in terms of moving on and creating positive things, not for destruction for the sake of destruction. Because Ken seemed to not be hurting anyone anymore, and he’s actually doing something to help, so why not believe in him and let him help?
Again: with the exception of episode 48 (which is just reinforcing something from before), all of these episodes are before XV-mon’s first appearance in 02 episode 22. Daisuke had always been this kind of positive and supportive person from day one; those traits had just not been very easily visible because he was still trying to deal with his initial awkwardness and being rather rough around the edges, but they’re still traits he’d always fundamentally had.
The chapter continues with Daisuke actually looking down on his other friends and protesting angrily against them trying to pull him back. Beyond the fact that (as stated above) the anime’s portrayal of Daisuke would make him very unwilling to fight back against opposition at this point of the series, the idea he’d actually be condescending about his friends is a little...hmm. Because, again, in 02 episode 7:
Daisuke does momentarily lash out at Iori and Takeru in a moment of emotional compromise when he’s stressed over Hikari getting trapped in the Digital World, but he actually takes it back. Incredibly quickly. He apologizes to Iori, and decides to not let Takeru put the blame on himself, even though his emotionally-compromised moment had initially gotten him to instinctively try to pin it on him. (Which is important because, yes, even when Daisuke’s inclined to lash out at Takeru for his perceived existing relationship with Hikari and be jealous of him, he still cares about Takeru himself to the point he doesn’t want him to load himself with the guilt.)
Daisuke’s brashness is portrayed during this early part of 02 as him very, very badly needing validation. This means that going out of his way to push aside the people he calls friends would be the last thing he wants to do, because he actually wants their approval, and for them to like him, and therefore he’s willing to apologize quickly and try to make amends because he plays badly with actual confrontation.
While this line isn’t quite off, it does rather clash with the way Daisuke actually portrays himself, which is that he doesn’t really have this much of an ego. The literal translation of this line is that he calls himself “your cute little junior”, but even the more liberal translation used here doesn’t quite work with Daisuke’s character, since it’s not implied at any point that Daisuke thinks Taichi actually cares about him back the way he adores Taichi.
Again, Daisuke is an extremely deferential person who craves validation, and this is especially in the case of Taichi, who arguably is the one who creates the easiest mood shift in Daisuke for the early parts of the series. Whenever Taichi is nearby, Daisuke immediately becomes deferential and respects literally everything he does.
Observe Daisuke’s very resigned and very deferential facial expressions and attitude in 02 episodes 8 and 10, whenever it comes to Taichi (and note that the third screenshot here also comes from a situation where Daisuke wanted to advocate for pushing forward instead of retreating; it was that easy for Taichi to shut him down). For all it’s worth, Daisuke’s never really shown to have a lot of pride in himself (beyond the occasional joke), and it’s heavily implied that he sees Taichi as so amazing that he’s not even remotely in his league. That’s why it’s such a big deal that Daisuke puts his foot down and protests against what Taichi wants them to do in 02 episode 39, and it’s not even rudely or aggressively (he still uses polite Japanese!) as much as just firmly “I have a friend and I need to help him, I’m sorry.”
During the chapter, Daisuke claims that he doesn’t want to go back and meet his friends, because he doesn’t think they care about him, but, well, again: Daisuke is someone who craves approval. It’s somewhat understandable that he’d maybe have some degree of insecurity that they don’t like him as much as he wants them to, but the series by this point (remember, we’re talking episode 22, given XV-mon’s appearance) makes it very clear that Daisuke is well aware that his friends like him this much, and he has no real grudges against them.
This is one of the reasons it’s so important that 02 had so many scenes of the kids just...bantering in the computer room, or having tons of “free time off hours” that had nothing to do with Digimon fights, because although Daisuke is brash and rough around the edges, otherwise, the group of friends here get along perfectly fine. Once the stress of fighting is removed, these kids are part of each others’ social circle and love hanging out for the sake of hanging out, and even someone as dense as Daisuke should know very well that they do at least like him this much.
And, more importantly, whatever Daisuke might think about what his friends think of him, he himself likes them a lot. He cares about them a lot. Even all the way back in 02 episode 10 and 11, with Miyako and Takeru (whom he ostensibly banters and gets touchy with a lot), he still makes it clear he likes what Miyako’s doing and wants to check on her (without prompting), and later, when he gets in a fight with Takeru, he blames himself for not understanding Takeru’s feelings instead of feeling inclined to blame it on him. (In fact, this so-called hostility with Takeru is really overblown here, because there’s no reason Daisuke should think everyone takes Takeru’s side; when they did get in a fight in 02 episode 11, everyone was more concerned about getting them to calm down than they were about taking sides, because both of them did have a very reasonable position.)
And while Daisuke getting set off by the Takeru and Hikari issue might have been in-character at one point, it’s not for him at this point in the series, because 02 episode 22, the very episode that introduces XV-mon, has him take a completely different view of the situation:
Daisuke had already gotten over a lot of it by this point. The last time he shows any indication of Takeru and Hikari having ~something going on~ to the point he suspects Takeru of being an obstacle is all the way back in episode 17, which oh-so-coincidentally happens to be the same episode where he later learns about the truth of his seniors’ great adventure in 1999, and therefore receives the full context of why Takeru and Hikari knew each other beforehand (which they had been absolutely terrible at elucidating for 17 episodes). By the time we get to this epsode, Daisuke does not hold anything against Takeru himself, and he doesn’t even accuse them of having a thing, just moping that they “get along so well”. He’s not angry about it, he’s sad about it, and it’s heavily implied that he’s really just sad about being third-wheeled more than anything.
It’s also important to realize that this is long past the point where Daisuke would have shown any outright hostility towards Takeru at all. At worst, he maybe scoffs “do whatever you want!”, or ends up a little sad that they’re leaving him out, but he ends up putting this on himself more than he ever lashes out at others about it anymore. The grudge against Takeru had already gone long under the bridge, by this point Takeru is just a friend that he likes reasonably well and is sad to be third wheeled by, and it’s only 13 more episodes before he’ll stop bringing his crush on Hikari into the issue for the rest of the series.
And, remember, Daisuke has always been someone who does things “because other people are being hurt”. He’s not actually that selfish! Whenever people are really in trouble, he goes in to help them -- remember, back in 02 episode 8, he was crushed because Ken turned out to be the Kaiser, and someone indirectly trampling on the dreams of all the soccer-playing kids in the country. Had this been Daisuke from the anime, he probably would have immediately wanted to go back the moment he realized there are people in need and hurt left behind, regardless of his own feelings on his relationship with his friends.
The rest of the chapter is fairly on-the-nose, with Daisuke managing to create a “miracle” through the power of his feelings by remembering what it meant for Taichi to give him his goggles, and for managing to connect to his friends despite them being trapped, with Daisuke and Taichi eventually parting on good terms and Daisuke even getting the honor of doing the victory dance with him. This is why I want to emphasize (I’ll say this in bold) that I do not think this is a “bad” chapter just because it’s not compliant with Daisuke’s anime characterization. Given what the chapter sets out to accomplish, setting up a story of someone who feels neglected by his friends and eventually decides to reach out to them with his own feelings, it’s thematically solid and well-plotted out as a story, and the crossover and thought experiment of how Daisuke would react to an alternate version of Taichi is very entertaining. Plus, Izawa’s writing and Yabuno’s art is charming, and it’s lovely to see the 02 kids in this style.
It’s just, well, the entire premise of this chapter relies on a conflict generated by Daisuke being a character he is very much not. And, again, it’s not something that I can really criticize Izawa and Yabuno for; Daisuke’s quite the deceptive character, and it really doesn’t seem like Toei and Bandai gave them a lot to work with, especially since this chapter only works within a very narrow range of 02′s timeline, between 02 episodes 22 and 25, when V-mon can evolve to Adult but Ken hasn’t formally joined the team yet. (And in fact, I’d generally apply this sort of caveat to things relevant to Daisuke that come from the Bandai side instead of Toei side; too many things out there seem to only really be working with the base details of “Taichi’s junior who has a crush on Hikari” with no regard to the actual nuances of his character.) Personally, it seems that Izawa and Yabuno did their best with what they had to work with, and they even made it a fun chapter while they were at it! -- so I would simply say that it’s probably best to enjoy this chapter without thinking about the lack of canon compliance too hard, but also not to judge the actual anime version of Daisuke too much by this portrayal.
#digimon#digimon adventure v tamer 01#digimon adventure 02#motomiya daisuke#daisuke motomiya#shihameta
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hello! i noticed u said you were confused abt the opposites angle when it comes to mirror worlder characterization and i wanted to explain my pov as someone who does ascribe to that (with all respect, it’s cool if you disagree! i just wanted to clarify my point of view if it’s np - also, you don’t have to answer this ask if you don’t want to, i’m just rambling lol)
- I’d take TV Tropes pages for Kirby w/ a grain of salt (& i say this as someone who tends to frequent them a lot) bc they tend to have a lot of inaccuracies, confusing hcs/fan theories with canon and the like
- The thing about Mirror Worlders being born from the darkness of the originals is that it’s p much only stated in non-canon spinoffs (Clash, KF2, etc.) so it’s kinda dubious. Burade’s pause screen is a tad ambiguous so I wouldn’t say it necessarily it means he’s inherently Dedede’s worse side - esp since he’s heavily implied to be possessed during the fight, much like Dedede was in the past (stomach mouth, blank eyes, his connections with a certain eyeball who makes a hobby out of bodysnatching, etc)
- HiAD’s Parallel counterparts (the canon ones, created via the Jamba Heart) already serve the purpose of being the characters’ inner demons, given that they represent their negative traits magnified tenfold, so I prefer the Mirror Worlders as opposites bc they otherwise seem kinda redundant lol
- Dark Meta Knight liking being called cute would be really, really funny.
Ramble away! I do that too. (and I respect your headcanons. I just like my own more because bias XD)
-Yeah I know that, I've read through the pages before and seen stuff. I only quoted it because I find the pages fun to look at (and sometimes they make me realize things I didn't notice before) and I saw that one paragraph on Shadow Dedede and was like "hey, this basically sums up what I already wanted to say about him but couldn't think of the right words for because I suck at wording!"
-I think I remember something about a manual for Amazing Mirror stating it?? And I couldve sworn it was stated somewhere else that Shadow Kirby was good because Kirby is good good, like in a game, though I can't find it in Amazing Mirror's transcript. Maybe I'm misremembering it, I should probably go looking for it when I get the chance.
however, I DO have Burade's Japanese pause description, which ends with, from my understanding:
"The opponent the king must overcome...
It was the shadow of the king's own heart"
And this comes right after it says that Burade has appeared, so I feel like
Ans personally I think the stuff about him looking possessed has to do with the whole "embodies what the king used to be" thing since Dedede getting possessed is the Princess Peach getting kidnapped of the Kirby franchise and I could see an argument that Kirby 64 was the real point where Dedede's redededemption began (or at least his friendship with Kirby since that's the first time the really WORK TOGETHER work together rather than just "Dedede yeets Kirby at a smelly wizard") but that's just my take. I guess I just feel like if he was being possessed it would've been a bit more... apparent. like it would've shown us what was possessing him. 'Cus otherwise it just kinda... amounts to nothing. I think?
Again, just my dumb perspective.
I also just feel like it makes sense and is cool. Like I made that entire post because if you interpret Shadow Dedede that way it adds some extra coolness points to the fight for being a high point in a character arc. Interpret the lore however you wish, I just always feel the stupid need to explain my perspective in excessive length.
yeah speaking of I should probably stop-
-and yeah I guess the Jamba Heart dudes are also like that in a way though I feel like there's a bit of a difference? Kinda?? i don't know how to describe it. I hate understanding something on my own sometimes because then it becomes a pain in the neck to explain and I could just be understanding nothing in the end without even realizing it XD
-110% valid reason and I completely understand and respect it. I like funny.
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Retrospective Review - Batman: Year One
Batman: Year One is arguably one of the most iconic Batman stories in the character's history. For me personally, alongside The Long Halloween, Year One is one of my favorite Batman stories. So I was very interested in this movie when it came out because it is very much the definitive Batman origin story, even though stuff like Zero Year has retconned it out of canon. So I was looking forward to this adaptation. Its without doubt the most faithful adaptation of a story that I have seen in an animated film. From character design to dialogue, it is almost a complete copy. And that's a good thing because of the quality of the story.
In essence, this is a parallel origin story. This isn't a story of how Bruce trained himself to become a vigilante, but more on how the idea of Batman came to be when he arrived in Gotham and what his first year as a vigilante was like, while in parallel, Gordon joins the GCPD as a lieutenant and navigates the corruption within the GCPD. We basically follow the both of them as their paths intertwine and how they become allies by the end of the movie. Its a compelling narrative and Frank Miller deserves a lot of credit for it. The film navigates the connections between the seedy underbelly of Gotham to the mob to the police. The film portrays Gotham as a city that is rotten from the inside and there seem to be only two men who are doing anything to fight the corruption. I think what helps the film considerably is that the source material is naturally cinematic, so nothing major additional needs to be done to make the movie compelling to watch.
In terms of tone and content, this is probably among the darker Batman animated movies. Miller's stories played a huge part to push Batman away from the campier content of Adam Wes, towards the modern interpretations of Batman. For an animated film, this film shows violence like gun shots and blood spatter, seedy aspects of the life like prostitutes and pimps. So this is definitely not a movie aimed at kids. Whereas the DCAU and The Batman movies were spinoffs of animated shows that were aimed at children, the shackles are off here. The story does a great job characterizing and endearing us to Gordon especially. I will say that the Gordon side of the narrative is slightly stronger and has a bit more of the focus whereas the narrative in the original story was more balanced. But that works in the movie because we are naturally more aware of the Batman story while the Gordon story is more relatable and is new to us. He's shown to be a moral guy but he's also prone to mistakes, such as his affair with Sarah Essen. He is not above beating the crap out of a bully cop and leaving him stripped naked in the snow. The animation is strong. I mean, obviously this isn't theatrical movie level animation, but the film is able to have some great visuals. There are some terrifying visual shots of Batman, like when he confronts a witness and when he confronts Falcone and Loeb at dinner. Also, the Bat breaking into the Manor to give Bruce the inspiration to become Batman is another superb visual. Rewatching the film also reminded me of how much this film influenced Batman Begins, from the device in his show that calls the Bats to evade the cops, to the final shot of Batman and Gordon meeting on a rooftop to discuss Joker.
There aren't too many complaints I have with the film. The film is extremely faithful and briskly paced. It manages to encapsulate all the major story points without being rushed. I am not overly fond of the Catwoman prostitute origin from the source material. And like I mentioned, Batman himself seems like the second lead to Gordon in the movie. But these are fairly minor complaints overall. Its a compelling movie and a real solid adaptation.
Definitely the voice acting coup of the movie is to get Bryan Cranston as Gordon. He is pretty fantastic. Delivering the weariness, the determination, the conflict, the anger etc... all of it throughout the movie. He's honestly a fantastic potential casting choice for live action even though no complaints at all with JK Simmons and Jeffrey Wright. Ben McKenzie, who ironically went on to play Gordon in Gotham on Fox, plays Bruce/Batman. He plays the role fairly monotone. It works brilliantly for Batman because he has that cold, emotionless tenor which is terrifying when he's threatening the villains. But it feels a little flat when he's playing Bruce or doing his inner monologue. The rest of the voice cast is strong as well but the focus is really on Bryan and Ben because there is a lot of inner monologue for these characters. Eliza Dushku as Selina, Katee Sackhoff as Sarah Essen, and Fred Tatasciore as Detective Flass are other standouts.
Overall, Year One is a stellar adaptation and captures what made the source material so good. Bruce Timm, Alan Burnett, Lauren Montgomery, and Sam Liu know their stuff as Producers and Directors of this movie. Huge credit obviously to Frank Miller and David Mazzucchelli for the source material. An 8/10.
#batman year one#batman#james gordon#selina kyle#catwoman#bruce wayne#sarah essen#alfred pennyworth#arnold john flass#holly robinson#harvey dent#commissioner loeb#carmine falcone#bryan cranston#ben mckenzie#eliza dushku#katee sackhoff#fred tatasciore#alan burnett#bruce timm#lauren montgomery#sam liu#frank miller#david mazzucchelli
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@flyingpurplepeopleeater42 this one’s for you <3 Also thanks to both you and @fluffypotatey for hyping up my previous posts so that I got the confidence to continue my endless ramble.
I’m your problem now :)
In the Merlin discord I’m a part of, it was brought to my attention that Gwaine and the Green Knight would make for a great episode because if done right it could confirm Gwaine as Queer, and that is 100% correct my friend and here’s my take on that:
I don’t want to follow the real story too closely because it gives me ‘Morgana is horrible at being a villain’ and ‘moral of the story is don’t be a fucking coward’ kind of fairy tail vibes so let’s ✨spice it up a bit✨(and make it gay)
I imagine the episode starting with a hooded figure walking through the citadel of Camelot, towards the castle, while ominous music plays, because if there was one good thing about BBCM, it was the soundtrack. Maybe a servant passes the figure and kind of looks back at them like “what the fresh hell was that” then continues on her merry way because strange people are above her pay grade and honestly she’s having a hard time keeping herself from going full-on alcoholic as it is. She doesn’t need anymore weird shit in her life. Anyway cut to the banquet hall that we’ve seen a few times, Arthur at the head of the table, Merlin and Gwen gossiping behind him, The knights in their respective seats talking amongst themselves, haughty nobles entertaining each other, (if you get my meaning) basically everyone’s having a pretty good time. This will parallel the banquet scene that the original myth starts with, when a green man rides in and tells them all to cut his head off
The banquet ends pretty late in the night, everyone’s full with the cooks horrible delicious food, and Gwaine and Elyan are walking back to their chambers together. From the way the camera is moving we can tell we’re seeing everything from some hidden person’s POV, as they kind of stalk Gwaine and Elyan. Because I refuse to let a single second of this spinoff not be dedicated to the knights characterization, we can just barely hear Gwaine and Elyan’s conversation and it goes a little something like this:
Gwaine: (about Percival) Has he given you any stupid nicknames yet? He calls me ‘little man’.
(reference to that one (1) time Percy called him that)
Elyan: He calls me Sir Short Legs :(
And then Creepy Hooded Figure of the Week rushes up and grabs Gwaine’s wrist and Gwaine spins around kinda panicky like ‘wtf who just touched me’ and surprise!! he knows the person!! We see in the corner of the screen that the figure is taking off his hood. Maybe Gwaine’s eyes widen in surprise and he tries to back away. Next to him, Elyan looks like he’s just shit himself. But then Gwaine squints, looking closer at the person we have yet to see, like they’re familiar, somehow. “Bertilak? Is that you?”
Cut to Bertilak’s face, which is super ugly, mind you. His skin is green and his eyes are bright red and in all honesty he looks like an orc from Lord of the Rings. He tells Gwaine he needs his help. And cut to the new opening titles (which I may or may not be thinking of editing into existence) for ~dramatic effect~
When the opening titles are over we see Elyan closing the door to Gwaine’s chamber behind him as Gwaine leads Bertilak over to the bed. Elyan stops Gwaine for a moment.
Elyan: Remind me again what the hell that is and how you know it?
Gwaine: That’s Bertilak. He doesn’t usually look like that. We had a thing a while back.
Bertilak: *nods solemnly*
Elyan, definitely not jealous in any way shape or form: Define ‘thing’
Anyway as it turns out, Bertilak was a childhood friend of Gwaines. Noble, like he was, but he didn’t act it, so it was easy to forget. Bertilak’s family was close with Gwaine’s dad, and kept visiting his mom after his dad died out of awkward pity, and thats how they met. Gwaine, Bertilak, and Yvain would get into countless messes together as kids. I’m obsessed with Gwaine and Yvain now can you tell? Eventually Bertilak settled down while Gwaine and Yvain wanted to travel Albion, so they split up. But not before that ‘thing’ Gwaine mentions. (Gwaine falls in love will all of his friends at some point and I love him for it)
Surprise surprise, Bertilak’s cursed. They have to help him lift the curse or whatever, but for some reason they need Lancelot’s help, maybe they need a map idk I just really wanna include Lance in one of these, shut up. Anyway our boy Lance saves the day, they go on this journey or whatever, and its super fun for about 2 seconds. (Either Elyan tags along or he stays behind to let Arthur know what Gwaine’s up too. “I believe he is currently fucking an old friend, sire. Did I say fucking? I meant... um... helping. He’s helping an old friend.”)
Somewhere along the way Gwaine meets Bertilak’s wife and just goes full gwaine mode:
Gwaine, bending down to kiss her hand: And who might you be? ;)
Bertilak: That’s my wife.
Gwaine:
Somehow, someway, Gwaine finds a little green belt and some old crone or whatever tells him ‘this belt will make you invincible :)’ (she's lying its just a placebo but he doesn't know that. This parallels the ‘magic’ green belt Gwaine gets in the legend) Gwaine thinks he should wear the belt for good luck, but Bertilak, ever the responsible one since his childhood with himbo 1 and 2, glares at him and Gwaine gently puts it down like, “Then again maybe not.”
They save the day at the end, undo the curse, Bertilak doesn’t look like a fucking gremlin anymore, and Queer Gwaine is confirmed. Everyone wins :)
#how'd I do#BBC Knights#merlin#bbcm#bbc merlin#i feel a little guilty that I didn’t quite stick to the script with this one#but you know what#the fisher king was supposed to be evil and be bested by Percival Galahad and Lance#so if anyone has an issue with my inaccuracy you can take it up with BBC#they did it first#Himbos of the Round Table#Daffodils and Chrysanthemums
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Can we have some unpopular Sonic opinions?
I tried to cram in a lot, so I hope this satisfies you. :P I tried to stick to the ones that I haven't brought up quite as often, since by this point, we all know that I think IDW's storytelling is dire, SA2's story is overrated, X Eggman is an embarrassing portrayal (at least from season 2 onwards), Blaze shouldn't be handcuffed to Silver, Shadow's backstory had issues with or without the Black Arms, Neo Metal Sonic looks silly, etc. But anyway, here we go:
- Knuckles may be tricky to incorporate into plots that don't relate to Angel Island, but making him obsessed with his duties is no better than having him forget about Angel Island entirely.
- I like Marine, and never found her annoying. Oh, I understood what they were trying to do with her, but I honestly wasn't put off by her, and found her Aussie lingo more endearing if anything. Since her debut was during the period in my life where where I couldn't stand Sonic himself, I instead thought he was irritating (and hypocritical) for getting annoyed with her for doing shit he would often be guilty of.
- Silver is just as guilty of being shoehorned into games and plots as the Deadly Six are. Having more fans than the latter is irrelevant, since we're still talking about a character who constantly has to time travel in order to be present.
- Speaking of Silver, if he has to stick around, please do something different with him. They've pulled the doomed future routine multiple times now, and it's been boring every single time. I wasn't interested when it involved Iblis. I wasn't interested when it involved Knuckles drinking the edgy Kool Aid. I wasn't interested when it involved a council of dumbasses... give it a rest already.
- The Tails Doll can work as a mildly creepy thing, with maybe more to it than meets the eye when it's time for a boss fight or what have you. But the memes about him stealing your soul are just dumb, and I thought it was dumb even back in my teenage youth.
- “Eggman is supposed to be clownish!” Yeah, well he's also meant to be a genuine villain with a 300 IQ. These qualities don't have to be mutually exclusive.
- “Sonic is supposed to have attitude!” Yeah, well that's not the same thing as being an absolute cunt. Sonic was only ever meant to come off as having an edge compared to Mario. He was never meant to be a GTA-tier protagonist.
- Rouge is not a villain, and never was a villain. Literally the whole point of her role in SA2 was to reveal that she was working against Eggman and Shadow the whole time, albeit using sneakier tactics to do so. You'd think all those people who exult SA2's story would remember this, but apparently not. She barely even qualifies as an anti-hero, since aside from stealing the Master Emerald, she rarely does anything morally questionable otherwise. She's got a lot more good in her than people give her credit for.
- Captain Whisker is a better Eggman Nega than the actual Eggman Nega. And as far as robot characters in this franchise go, Johnny's design is pretty underrated.
- I don't like Iblis or Mephiles, but I DO like Solaris, and it annoys me that it was out of focus for most of the story due to all the time spent on its less interesting halves. Had they kept the backstory with the Duke and his experiments, and worked from there, I think they could have provided an interesting contrast with Chaos (since Solaris can also qualify as a monster with a sympathetic backstory) instead of recycling the surface level schtick.
- Black Doom may technically be just as bad as Mephiles, Nega, Scourge, Mimic, etc, since he's yet another villain with one-note characterization and fucked over Eggman. But because he never gained a disproportionate fandom, he doesn't annoy me to the same extent. It's easier to ignore him by comparison, and his Dr. Claw voice and face shaped like a lady's delicate part make him enjoyable to mock.
- Likewise, while Lyric is also on the same level as these other villains, it's easier to dismiss him because I was never invested in the Boom games anyway, and being an obvious alternate universe (compared to Sonic X or IDW, which retain the Modern designs and plot elements), it never had an effect on the main series. I also unironically like his design, and if nothing else, at least this snake didn't start a hypnotism fetish across the internet.
- Sally - and the rest of the Freedom Fighters for that matter - have had their importance in the franchise severely inflated. They may have been lucky to be the face of popular media (SatAM and Archie), but they're not these magnificent entities that the game characters are but a speck of dust in comparison to. Having a “legacy” doesn't make them more entitled to shit than any other character, old or new.
- Conceptually, the treasure hunting gameplay is one of the better alternate gameplay styles IMO. But it was let down in SA2 by its one track minded radar (the levels may have been big, but I don't think that would have been an issue on its own if the radar was better). If they brought it back and made it more like SA1's treasure hunting, I'd be all for it, although it would probably be better suited for a spinoff title.
- This goes for a lot of games, but when it comes to 2D, I prefer sprites over models. Not that the Rush models are bad (though the ones in Chronicles sure as fuck are), but the sprites in Mania and the Advance trilogy are just so charming and full of character.
- I actually like Marble Zone. Yeah, the level design is a bit blocky, but I love the concept of an underground temple prison, mixed with lava elements in a zone that otherwise isn't a traditional volcano level.
- I also like Sandopolis Zone. Again, completely understand why it's not the most popular zone around, but I've been a sucker for the Ancient Egyptian aesthetic since childhood (you can thank Crash 3 for that), and Act 1 is visually stunning.
- I prefer the JP soundtrack for Sonic CD over the US version overall... but I also prefer Sonic Boom over You Can Do Anything.
- SA2's soundtrack isn't bad by any means - I love Rouge's tracks, and The Last Scene is one of my favourite pieces of music - but as far as variety goes, it's a step down from SA1's soundtrack.
- If Sonic X-Treme had been released, it probably would have been unenjoyable and confusing. Whatever your thoughts on SA1, it was probably the better option between the two as far as Sonic's first legitimate translation into 3D goes.
- I have no qualms with Modern Sonic and the other Modern designs and characters, but I also fully acknowledge that changing gears from Adventure onwards - and doing it with a great amount of fanfare - was always going to create one of the biggest divides in the fandom, and fans shouldn't act surprised that this happened. The fact that they felt the need to hype up a new design and direction in the first place (compared to Mario, who has mostly been the same since the beginning, with only the occasional minor change with little fanfare) also indicates that they weren't confident enough in Sonic and his universe being the way it was, which often gets ignored by all the “SEGA have no confidence!!!” complaints you see with their recent games.
- Unleashed did not deserve the incredibly harsh reviews it received back in the day... but it doesn't deserve its current sacred cow status either. It had more effort put into it than '06 to be sure, and I can respect that, but much of it was misguided effort, and even if you like the Werehog, you have to admit that the idea came at the absolute worst time. The intro cutscene may be awesome, as is the Egg Dragoon fight, but 2% doesn't make up the entire game. Chip was also quite annoying, and I wasn't particularly sad when he pressed F in the chat at the end.
- On the other hand, while Colours definitely has its shortcomings, and people have every right to criticse those shortcomings, a lot of its most vocal detractors tend to have a stick up their arse about the game because people actually enjoyed it, and it had a gimmick that people actually liked. Yes, it may have been the first game to have those writers everyone hates, but then SA1 was the first game to give the characters alternate gameplay styles and have other villains upstage Eggman, so...
- Forces is absolutely not on the level of '06. It's nowhere close. A game being flawed does not make it the next '06, clickbait YouTubers. Or should I say, the game they want to retroactively apply '06's reception to, since they've been trying hard to magically retcon '06's own quality...
- To echo @beevean, ALL of the 3D stories have their issues. SA1 is probably the most well-rounded of them on the whole, but even that one isn't perfect.
- To echo another opinion, although I do love SA1, I'm not crazy over the idea of a remake, and would prefer them to just take Sonic's gameplay from SA1 and work from there. Because with a remake, you're stuck in a hard spot: Do you keep it the way it is bar the expected graphical upgrades, and risk accusations of not doing anything to actually improve the experience? Or do you try to address past criticisms, and risk the wrath of the fans who will inevitably go on a #NotMyAdventure crusade about it? What people fail to consider is that the Crash and Spyro remakes were accepted gracefully because their original iterations were still unanimously beloved for the most part, whereas SA1 - and especially SA2 - have always been divisive, and have only gotten moreso over the years.
- People take their preferences for the character's voice actors too seriously. I have my own favourites like anyone else, but I don't make a big deal out of it.
- And with fandom voice actors, they usually focus too much on doing a basic impression of their preferred official voice actor, and not enough on the acting. So you end up getting a lot of fan voices who sound like decent impressions of Ryan Drummond or Jason Griffith on the surface, but they sound utterly empty beyond that impression, because there's no oomph or depth to the actual emotions. They think about the actor rather than the character, when it should really be the other way around.
- The thing with Ian Flynn is that he is capable of telling a decent story, and he can portray some characters well. But he's proven time and time again that everything will go off the rails if he's given too much freedom (ironic, given how quick he is to point the finger at mandates when something goes wrong).
- Ian Flynn and Shiro Maekawa are not the only people in the world who are allowed to write for Sonic. I understand that one should be cautious when seeking out new writing talent, but for all the fandom's accusations of playing it safe, they sure aren't in a rush to experiment outside of their own comfort zone.
- And of course, the big one: You don't fix the franchise's current problems by crawling back to its previous problems. It's much more helpful and constructive to discuss the good and bad alike with each of the games. Less “THIS GOOD, MODERN BAD”, and more “This could work, but maybe without that part...”
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same anon as before, i actually fully agree. i feel a little bad criticizing both types of fans but i honestly think its worth doing. i love the crunch and technical stuff that i get when actually playing d&d but i guess i dont look for the same level of it in a show because at the end of the day theyre entertainers putting out a product, but i fully agree that when people expect perfect characterization and super consistent pacing and all that they just need to be reading books lmao. like i think fantasy high was really fun and i fixated on d20 for months but i almost immediately liked naddpod better once i started listening because imo it honors the collaborative and cooperative nature of the game better. i like brennan a lot as a storyteller and i think his campaign settings are great but d20 definitely does a lot more handwaving and feels much more on the rails; i remember watching the seven and feeling like there was so little possibility for the players to fail that even poor dice rolls didn't get things to too dire of a place that often. Anyway god what a rant on my part and not even that coherent but i feel like youre always putting stuff i feel about these things into words so well !
I def had a similar experience with d20 and naddpod! I think d20 is easier to get into because of the high production value, sets, video and shorter campaigns but the tradeoff is that it does have to be p on the rails cause they have the sets ahead of time and production schedules. I personally definitely feel that naddpod captures the spirit of d&d a lot more and it having a smaller party and being independent allows it to really go with the game and do some really cool things (thinking abt the whole endoterra crew - that kind of thing could never happen on d20).
also yeah I def agree with that abt the seven, they talked a lot abt whomping brennan but it really didn't feel like the fights were that difficult (esp when you compare them to the fights in the intrepid heroes seasons which are always so intense). I do think a big part of it is the length of the season, I just thing the 10 episodes season they've been doing arent super working. to me they either feel a little too long and drawn out (mice and murder) or too short and like they had to squeeze everything (the seven). but honestly that aside, my biggest problems with the seven is just the concept. I dont think d&d is great for prequels and spinoffs in general. when it's something like pirol where all of the characters are new and it's just exploring a part of the world more it works but when you take npcs that are actually relevant to the campaign and let people play them as pcs they're gonna change in ways that don't make sense with the original campaign. penny is a good example of that - I do really like becca's characterisation of her, but at the same time I was like this doesn't seem like someone riz would be friends with. they all played great pcs, but the chatacters feeling so different from their original characterisation was really jarring and I just really don't think d&d is the best medium for that type of thing.
another thing that made it realy hard for me to get into the seven from the beginning is how emotional the first episode is. don't get me wrong, I love a good emotional episode - fearful symmetry in d20, greed anger heresy in bahumia and too late in eldermourne are v emotional and also some of my fave actual play episodes, but the thing they all have in common is they're p late in the game. all of them are after at least 20 episodes of play where you got to know and love these characters and you care abt their relationships and feelings and lives. the seven had a huge v emotional inter party fight with a lot of deep personal moments and one on one conversations for each pc that took up 45 minutes in the first episode, and I remember watching it and just being like. I... don't really care about this at all. I don't know these characters or their relationships to each other, I don't care if they stay a party or break up, I've only known them for like half an hour. I think big emotional conflicts are v fun and interesting but I also think they need to be earned for them to actually work, yknow?
anyways this became so fucking long I deeply apologize, but also don't apologize for ranting in my inbox! I really like talking and thinking abt this type of thing and it's always so fun to get asks from other people engaging with it. let my inbox be your soapbox and rant away all you like I'm always happy to get this type of asks
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In order to talk about this episode, we have to talk about how manga publishing and anime production does (and does not) work.
And before we can get into this episode, and its originating storyline that comes not only from the My Hero Academia manga but also its spinoff Vigilantes, I have to talk about three things:
The challenges of adapting more than one manga series.
An imaginary Vigilantes co-production (an “Imagine If,” to steal a phrase from a writer better than I) between Studio BONES and Studio Trigger.
But first, another franchise Studio BONES adapted the same year as MHA: Bungo Stray Dogs.
(Bear with me–this is all going somewhere.)
“More of a Hero Than Anyone,” My Hero Academia Episode 107 (Season 5, Episode 19)
An adaptation of Chapters 253, 254, and 255 of the manga, by Kohei Horikoshi, inspired by My Hero Academia: Vigilantes, Chapters 59 to 65 by Hideyuki Furuhashi and Betten Court. All translated by Caleb Cook with lettering by John Hunt and available from Viz.
My Hero Academia is available to stream on Crunchyroll and Funimation.
Spoilers up to the My Hero Academia Chapter 324, Vigilantes Chapter 108, and the film World Heroes’ Mission.
There are also spoilers for Bungo Stray Dogs and Gurren Lagann.
Created by writer Kakfa Asagiri and illustrator Sango Harukawa, with additional spinoffs illustrated by Kanai Neko, Ganjii, Oyoyo, and Shiwasu Hoshikawa, Bungo Stray Dogs is about a world where characters, who happen to have the names of real-life authors of Japanese and other literature, also happen to have superpowers based on the titles of works by those same famous authors. For example, Herman Melville can summon the giant battle fortress Moby-Dick, Nikolai Gogol can transport items through his overcoat, and Motojiro Kajii has the ability “Lemonade,” which prevents him from being harmed by bombs shaped like lemons.
(…Bungo Stray Dogs is weird. The first anime doesn’t even have dogs in it.)
Studio BONES premiered an animated adaptation of Bungo Stray Dogs in 2016, the same year the studio premiered the MHA anime. What makes Bungo unique compared to some other anime is that each season adapted from not only the manga but one of the franchise’s light novels as well. While some of the light novels take place concurrent to the manga, most take place in the past–which made Season 1 awkward, re-setting some events from the Azure Messenger Arc in the present and hampering some characterization for what was supposed to be the very first meeting of the characters Osamu Dazai and Doppo Kunikida.
The next light novels adapted for the Bungo anime all take place in the past, with Season 2 giving what I think is the best of the adaptations, The Dark Age, as we learn more about Dazai’s time with the Port Mafia and his relationship with fellow mafioso Sakunosuke Oda. This arc set a high standard that I don’t think the next light novel adaptations have reached, as it not only fleshes out the characters and builds the world, but it also has two important accomplishments. First, on its own, you could watch the entire four-episode arc as its own movie. While some details will gain more significance if you watched the first season, and will become more important as you watch the rest of the series or read the manga and light novels, by itself, The Dark Age is a thrilling narrative of intrigue, deception, betrayal, and heartache. Second, thematically, The Dark Age ties in very well to the rest of Season 2. Some of it is cheap shorthand: the Lupin Bar matchstick container becomes a visual indicator for Dazai helping Atsushi Nakajima save an ally when Dazai couldn’t. But even as cheap as that may seem, it enhances the overall season, giving Dazai more to do in a story where he is otherwise on the sidelines and playing everyone like chess pieces. Plus, you kind of needed to see The Dark Age to understand who Ango Sakaguchi is in Season 2 and why Dazai hates him.
Season 3 gave me high hopes for where the next light novel adaptation could go. This season focuses on a third party attempting to destroy Dazai and Atsushi’s organization, the Armed Detective Agency, along with the Port Mafia. When Agency founder Yukichi Fukuzawa is poisoned, we see the usually lighthearted and arrogant Ranpo Edogawa become momentarily silent and devastated by Fukuzawa’s hospital bed. I blame myself for reading theories online that this moment would lead the season to do a flashback arc to one of the light novels, one that shows the origins of the Agency, how Fukuzawa first met young Ranpo, and explains what that cat was doing all throughout The Dark Age and Season 3.
Instead, as soon as I started Season 3 and saw the premiere was beginning with a lengthy adaptation of a light novel centered around Dazai and his former Mafia teammate Chuuya Nakahara, my heart sank. Nothing about that story thematically tied into the overall season as well as would Ranpo and Fukuzawa’s light novel, a story that reveals how much Ranpo has lost in his life and why he clings onto Fukuzawa for approval and why the dissolution of the Agency would not only deprive him of family and friends but also the very meaning to his existence. That is a heavy story to tell, one that would make the audience better appreciate the lengths the Agency goes to for Fukuzawa. By comparison, there is next to nothing about Chuuya’s back story that accomplishes the same. If anything, all that light novel adaptation tells us is that Dazai and Chuuya’s partnership mirrors that of Atsushi and the Mafioso Ryunosuke Akutagawa–and that detail was already established well enough in Season 2, so we’re just retreading the same old material.
Adapting Chuuya’s story is like explaining Aizawa’s back story: as I’ll explain in the moment, all you really learn in either case is why Chuuya hates Dazai and why Aizawa is a lone wolf–and it’s the reasons you already see in the present day, Chuuya hates Dazai because he’s annoying, and Aizawa has always been a loner, end of discussion. The choice to give these two characters the spotlight doesn’t really do anything new for the audience. I’ll say more about Aizawa later, but for now, I’ll say, nothing against Chuuya as a character, but the decision to adapt his light novel seemed very much like a marketing strategy by manga/light novel publisher Kadokawa and Studio BONES: Dazai and Chuuya’s relationship is popular with fans, there’s a lot of back story to mine, and the light novel that gave us this anime adaptation already set up a sequel that itself could serve as a Season 4 adaptation or even a feature film.
(Honestly, that Chuuya sequel novel in Bungo is more entertaining: there’s a cyborg named Adam Frankenstein. Re-read that sentence: a cyborg named Adam Frankenstein, who treats Chuuya like a little kid, offering him candy because he read that young people like candy and the serotonin from sugar can help with dealing with times of stress. Chuuya’s babysitter is Frankenstein: it’s so absurd that it just works.)
So, why am I talking about Bungo Stray Dogs instead of the other anime Studio BONES makes, My Hero Academia? Because I’m seeing a set of mistakes and Band-Aids repeat themselves all over again.
I profess ignorance about how the anime industry works: there are better people than I who can speak to it. As far as I can gather, just by looking at the evidence in that industry, and the evidence of just about any industry, the goal is to make money. I don’t think the goal to make an anime is necessarily to get people to watch it, especially now that streaming makes the cost of entry very low or even free if you wait long enough for Crunchyroll and Funimation to put it up with commercials. I don’t think it’s to get you to buy the manga: even if you get hooked like I am to read ahead to see what happens next, why read something you just watched? Instead, I think the goal is to buy merchandise, like how musical groups have switched from record deals to selling individual songs online and getting merch sold at concerts (pre-COVID). The conundrum for the anime and manga industries are not dissimilar from those in comic book publishing in the United States: DC and Marvel can have all the crossover events in the comics that they want, but those don’t always get someone who to read a new series just because Spider-Man or Wolverine pop up in it. I have not looked at sales for Vigilantes, so I don’t know whether Aizawa, Midnight, and All Might popping up in there boosts its sales. Rather, the comics are testing grounds for what works. Marvel uses its comics to test what can work in films and streaming, where money now is, while maybe Vigilantes was testing the Oboro story to see if there was something there to put into the anime. Sure enough, the fan art out there for Oboro has increased since the episode, merchandise can’t be far behind.
But let’s move on to actually looking at the episode itself. “More of a Hero Than Anyone” centers on Aizawa and Present Mic being brought to the prison Tartarus to interrogate captured League of Villains member Kurogiri. As I have complained for most of this season, BONES has made confusing choices regarding which chapters of the MHA manga it is adapting first: this story comes from manga chapters that were the last before the big Pro Heroes vs Paranormal Liberation Front Arc, and we haven’t even gotten to the Meta Liberation Army Arc yet. True, this episode ends in a way to set all of that up, showing us Shigaraki getting his power boost, but it has been a befuddling choice of what to adapt first. Making matters more confusing is that, while this episode introduces Aizawa and Present Mic’s classmate Shirakumo, someone alluded to during Shinso’s arc this season, that story doesn’t really originate in the main manga: it started in an MHA spinoff.
The manga My Hero Academia: Vigilantes is to My Hero Academia like the Bungo Stray Dogs light novels are to its main manga: it is largely a prequel that fills in back story for major characters and some worldbuilding details while telling its own story with its own protagonist and plot. Chapters 59 to 65 are the first major departure for the series, as it shifts from the usual protagonist to a plot about Aizawa, showing his time as a UA student and setting up why he ended up returning to UA as a teacher.
The first time I read Aizawa’s arc in Vigilantes, I hated it: it is a cynical attempt at giving us an origin story to explain how Aizawa got to be the way he is–without actually showing us anything we could not have figured out ourselves. It tries to set up this idea that, if Shirakumo had not died, Aizawa would not have been the lone wolf.
That idea butts up against two details. First, we already see Aizawa keeps up the lone wolf appearance anyway in the present, so imagining an alternative timeline doesn’t make sense, especially when, in its own flashback arc, Aizawa was already a lone wolf–that was his entire dynamic with Mic, Skirakumo, even Midnight, so it’s less that Shirakumo’s death made him this way when he was always this way. Hell, this was a gag in the supplementary material of the manga that got adapted into the anime, when Mic had to come up with a Pro Hero name for Aizawa because he was that checked out–and, again, that was before Shirakumo died.
Second, we know Aizawa’s lone wolf persona is just that, a front he puts up that belies his pragmatic willingness to work with others. Just because he is annoyed by the antics of friends like mic and Skirakumo, just because he bristles at Midnight trying to rope him into teaching at UA throughout most of Vigilantes, and just because he is overly serious when dealing with his students or with newbie heroes like Vigilantes’s protagonist the Crawler, none of that ignores that, despite everything, Aizawa, maybe more than anyone else, fulfills the collaborative spirit of Pro Hero work that other characters do not.
Aizawa’s strengths as a teacher center around his understanding that people have to work together. That detail fails when remembering he is still the one who is not properly reprimanding Bakugo to stop being a bullying, violent dick to Izuku. (Seriously, this episode is yet another moment of him being awful: how many times in the anime alone has he kicked the shit out of Izuku for no reason, as if any reason would justify it?) But otherwise, Aizawa understands how to work with others, and that has set him apart for so long from other prominent Pro Heroes. All Might doesn’t really collaborate–he’s been trying to hold up the peace of the world on his own. Endeavor may run an agency with sidekicks that enhance his abilities, but as seen in the Endeavor Agency Arc he would rather rush ahead to save the day on his own, in this pathetic desire to catch up to All Might. Aizawa, though, knows his limitations and is willing to work with anyone else to help him achieve his goals, something we have seen him learn to embrace more and more, whether hanging back to be the face in front of the camera to distract the League while the other Heroes rescue Bakugo, or when he accepted Izuku joining on the Shie Hassaikai mission. And you can pick up on all of this from just reading the main manga–so why bother reading Vigilantes if all it’s going to tell you is,”Aizawa’s friend died and that’s why he’s sad”? Even little details get lost in the shuffle: while I should appreciate Aizawa bringing up the cat Oboro rescued, that’s such a big part of the Vigilantes plot that it feels like a nod to the story rather than getting fully into it. (Trivia: That cat, Sushi, is adopted by Midnight. Enjoy feeling awful that Sushi may have passed away by now or is going to be without an owner when Midnight dies.)
I had thought I could put that frustration with that Vigilantes arc behind me. Then the main manga revealed Shirakumo’s corpse was used to create Kurogiri–and I rage quitted. Okay, that’s exaggerating: I didn’t stop reading the manga, but I did take a long pause in keeping up on it, seeing as the next arc got to be so bloody and depressing that, on top of enough real-world concerns, that wasn’t the kind of escapist reading I was looking for. I needed some time to sit back and process how annoying this revelation was. That means, for all of Vigilantes, this detail, that Kurogiri was Shirakumo all along, was just waiting to be revealed. To again repeat the SpongeBob meme I used last week, this series used me for plot contrivances.
(Vigilantes also seems like one long troll. After the main manga shows the Hood Nomu used to be an underground fighter, he gets a backstory in Vigilantes. And Vigilantes give you the last bit of Midnight you’re going to get before she’s killed off–which, now that I think about it, makes her exclusion from this episode even worse: she was friends with Shirakumo, too, so bring her into this episode before we fridge her!)
It doesn’t help how ignorant I feel for not realizing this sooner: Skirakumo’s name and abilities are the white-and-black opposite of Kurogiri’s. The cover to a collected volume of Vigilantes made that all the clearer. But if that’s the case, why wasn’t this hinted at when Aizawa and Kurogiri first encountered each other way back in the USJ Arc? I know it’s a lot to expect the audience to track throughout the series, and I appreciate the story trying to explain that away by Aizawa asking the same question I have, before someone tells him that maybe Kurogiri’s reprogramming made Oboro’s personality disappear. But Horikoshi’s creation of Shirakumo seems more like a late addition rather than something always there since the earliest chapters. And that’s fine–it’s just disappointing compared to other comics creators like Oda who sets stuff up years in advance before payoff in One Piece. And it’s more disappointing it didn’t come up in the anime adaptation: I would have hoped, if Horikoshi had that idea so early, he would have told BONES so they could throw in a hint early in that fight. I don’t know, maybe Aizawa has a flashback to the last words Shirakumo told him and that motivates him to use his Quirk one last time to save Tsuyu and Izuku, or maybe Kurogiri pauses before Aizawa just long enough that you think that’s a weird choice, then upon rewatch now you realize, “Oh, shit, Kurogiri was remembering his classmate and trying to process that information!”
It doesn’t help that the Shirakumo story doesn’t feel like something Studio BONES should handle. Granted, that story is from Vigilantes, not the main manga, so I anticipated BONES would not adapt it here–even as I held out hope for an OVA or, as I hinted earlier, something akin to Bungo Stray Dogs: start the season with this three- to four-episode adaptation of Aizawa’s back story to introduce this season. I’ll say more about why placing that story at the beginning of the season in a moment, but there was another reason why I didn’t think this was a Studio BONES story: it always felt like a story suited for Trigger, the studio behind Kill La Kill, Little Witch Academia, and more, built by people from Gainax of Evangelion and Gurren Lagann fame.
The Shirakumo arc in the Vigilantes manga felt like a visual love letter by Shueisha to Trigger saying, “Please adapt this!” Betten Court’s illustrations for Vigilantes emphasize diagonals, even when adapting MHA characters originally designed by Horikoshi, as well as facial expressions with sharp lines rather than curves, all visually reminiscent of some Trigger and even Gainax anime. Characters’ facial expressions look more like Panty and Stocking than Studio BONES. Aizawa’s final fight in the arc is against a stories-tall behemoth with laser powers that, if not visually, then narratively invokes similar fights in Gurren Lagann, Gridman, and Evangelion. Speaking of Gurren Lagann, in this arc Midnight is sporting Kamina’s shades, and Skirakumo’s last words to Aizawa come through an intercom, after he supposedly died, similar to Kamina’s death. Also, Midnight is running around in a nudist beach outfit from Kill La Kill–so, yeah, the Trigger allusions are that in your face, in all senses of that phrase. Again, I’m not saying I personally would like Trigger to adapt MHA: it’d be different, they are not the first studio I would go with or one whose output I would like, given a lot I don’t like about their output, but when you look at the manga-based evidence, going in that direction makes sense.
I don’t know what plans Shueisha, Toho, and BONES had for this episode, but the style of it already feels so different and off-kilter anyway, due to Aizawa’s nostalgia, that I can’t help but think that someone at some point did have an idea to go with a different studio to animate it, or at least a different approach. I appreciate how much they changed Chapter 254’s opening, re-staging Oboro’s agency talk to be outdoors instead of a walk-and-talk scene as in the manga. Even if I can’t quite say the street walking and outdoor sitting under a bright sky is indicative of Trigger exactly–if anything, the fixation on centering the scenes Wes Anderson-style (the hallway walking in Tartarus, Aizawa and Mic and Oboro hanging out under the blue sky) looks more like something out of Shaft or BONES’s Bungo Stray Dogs–that difference tells me there was something more ambitious in mind than what we ultimately got. It’s the same when we get Kurogiri’s point of view as Aizawa and Present Mic get through to Oboro.
Imagine how gutsy it would be to start Season 5 with an entire Oboro flashback arc. Imagine moving forward in time to this moment of Aizawa and Present Mic interviewing Kurogiri, disorienting the audience asking why we’re skipping the Classes 1A and 1B fights, the League of Villains vs the Meta Liberation Army Arc, and the Endeavor Agency Arc, to show this moment that was supposed to come later. Imagine how gutsy it would be to start with Aizawa and Present Mic learning all of this at Tartarus, setting up the finale for this season, the Pro Heroes versus the Paranormal Liberation Front–then not actually showing that fight start until next season. Why do all of that? Because, if you’re going to delay the LOV vs MLA Arc for that long, you might as well start your season assuring the audience that, no, we have not forgotten the Villains, they will be relevant this season–because, since Aizawa and Present Mic’s high school years, they have been the Big Bads all along and were toying with these two for so long. Imagine how gutsy all of that would be.
Instead, all of that is reduced to just one episode. It’s all so cliche. Aizawa points out, towards the beginning, that this power of friendship trope won’t work–then it does work, negating the entire point of calling it cliche. (Well, it does work, for now: given often we’re told rather than shown how All For One is a chessmaster, it wouldn’t surprise me if he let Kurogiri spill the beans like this knowing it would help him break out of prison later when the Pro Heroes foolishly take on the PLF all at once with little back up plan.) If we had had the full story of Oboro, like did readers of Vigilantes, the slow revelation that Nomus are hardly puppets but, more than that, are reanimated Frankenstein’s monsters capable of agency and personalities, would make this hurt more. We would have seen Oboro, we would have been as horrified as Aizawa and Mic are to learn he was resurrected–but, instead, it is already upon our first meeting with Oboro that suddenly we learn he is also Kurogiri, and it’s just too fast.
How disappointing, but sadly realistic.
It feels like BONES has made a lot of safe choices this season, and while that helps sustain the studio during the unpredictable times of COVID and does what works already for MHA, it doesn’t feel very adventurous. It makes me wonder whether BONES should have put in that time improving Season 5 than trying to make another MHA film. I have not seen World Heroes’ Mission, and while I’ll reserve my review of it until I see it, and will limit as many spoilers as I can, based on just the plot summary I have read, I fail to see how putting in the budget on that film makes sense in terms of narratives, even as I understand how it makes sense in terms of increasing an audience and getting box office sales (in a pre-COVID model, of course).
But speaking of COVID, yeah, I do see why World Heroes’ Mission is necessary right now: it is a globe-trekking film, from what I read it includes beautiful scenery as characters travel vast distances–it is a film needed right now when many of us are still social distancing and still staying at home in the hope that our contributions limit the spread of this deadly virus. (Get vaccinated, mask up, stay at home when possible, and stop being a jerk, people.) Still, I can’t say I’m not disappointed that, with a season whose animation has depended a lot on flashbacks, even if that makes sense given how much ground to cover and how far along the story has come over more than 100 episodes, it is disappointing to not get something more stylistically out-there.
I’m also not saying it’s realistic that Trigger would ever animate this arc. I don’t even necessarily want them to: I find most of their productions to be so light on story while heavy on themes, message, and the animation that, while I appreciate people getting into how visually stunning the artwork is, I find the story so empty that I just can’t get into it. And I’m not expecting Shueisha, Toho, or Studio BONES to cut some kind of deal with Trigger to give them the rights to adapt part or all of Vigilantes: Trigger is animating Star Wars stuff next, that’s a wider market than My Hero Academia (regardless how many Star Wars references Horikoshi puts into his series).
I know I’m being very critical of the production choices behind the episode. Granted, the recap to the last episode was needless–and seems like it’s just there to remind us that we’re somehow supposed to see Aizawa, Mic, and Oboro as analogous to Izuku, Bakugo, and Todoroki–which does not work at all. And somehow BONES made the unfunny All Might part from the manga even longer and even less funny: we already got comedic relief off Iida to accent how much a contrast there is to the Aizawa stuff, and that has a more personal connection as he is Aizawa’s student, while All Might’s Dad Joke is as painful a pun as it looked to be for the students.
Otherwise, I thought the episode was good, just not meeting expectations I set that are not fair. Present Mic’s extended pause, then the long pause before Aizawa has to hold back from crying, when realizing Kurogiri’s concern for Shigaraki means he is indeed Oboro, is more powerful than it was in the manga. Aizawa letting loose the tears at the end while claiming he has dry eyes is very much Roy Mustang complaining about the rain. I do think the ambition for the storyboarding hints at something bigger they had planned, and largely the animation and tension, especially trying to reach Oboro, did work. Wrapping up this episode showing that Kurogiri was just the start of an experiment that would lead to Shigaraki’s transformation only creates a more foreboding tone.
Furthermore, the voice direction and acting in the English dub was very good. Ever since David Trosko replaced Sonny Strait as Present Mic, he has upheld all that works in the character, and while I feared that kind of loud acting would disrupt any pathos for this episode, it worked incredibly well, putting up so much bluster that shows how powerless he feels facing this madness and how this is as heartwrenching for him as it is for Aizawa. I especially appreciate, in the English dub, how much Oboro sounds like Izuku: while the series has never made Aizawa see a bit of Oboro in Izuku, that casting lends a new way of interpreting why Aizawa sticks with that masochist after everything he lost when Oboro died.
(You know that if things had worked out differently, Vic Mignogna would’ve ended up cast as Oboro, given his roles already as the dead friend of the hard-ass teacher in Naruto, and the presumed dead Sabo in One Piece, and his dynamic acting against Kurogiri’s Chuck Huber in other productions).
So that takes care of all the stuff about Aizawa: what about his students? I don’t just mean the class he failed–which, no, that detail doesn’t really work for me, that Aizawa failed a class as we were told upon his initial introduction, and now we reveal it was an empty threat since, while that is on their record, it was to reset matters with his class, not so they would take him seriously but so that they would value their lives. That’s not how that works. I don’t pretend that students, myself included, took our education so seriously that a failing grade or a career setup felt awful–but not the same kind of life-threatening that is literally dying. A poor mark on your report card does not typically result in that kind of same mortal fear, and I hate this story for trying to compare the two, especially when it positions teachers like us to have a fatal power we don’t have: we’re not the Grim Reaper, this isn’t Soul Eater, this is real freaking life. I can’t imagine any good teacher wanting that kind of power to think they are the difference between life and death. We don’t want our students to think these are mortal matters–especially right now, in this context, where I don’t think it’s at all appropriate to re-start in-person teaching and learning (without masks and without social distancing or remote learning opportunities) at a time when not enough of us are vaccinated and the threat of COVID remains too dangerous even when vaccinated. This takes me out of the story. Granted, it’s not the rest of this story is somehow like real life: this is a school where Nezu somehow has a ton of money, so applying real-world matters to a work of fiction is foolish. The only bar this story needs to clear is believability, and it’s not unbelievable that Nezu made that money and overlooked Aizawa’s behavior.
(It’s also why I wish Midnight was in this episode: she recruited Aizawa to UA as a teacher–it would be fascinating to hear her say she chose him for these reasons, that she knew the school needed a hard-ass like him.)
But like I said, I don’t just mean the class he failed: I mean his current students. Re-reading Chapter 253, I now understand why Iida doesn’t pop up in the third film: if he had his new desire to loosen up, then it would make a lot less sense seeing as he just came off a mission to save the world like Ochaco and his classmates did.
And that again leads to a paragraph of me repeating that I don’t give Ochaco enough attention. I promise, I will say more about where her character stands in this series at some point, if not when talking about Chapter 324 tomorrow. But even as this story keeps insisting she is important, it feels like it’s hanging her up like that All Might toy from Izuku. I appreciate putting in the budget to animate her dive-and-hide on Izuku’s gift, something not as obvious or visually impressive in the manga–but we couldn’t have put that budget into doing something more creative with the Aizawa story? Building her characterization around Izuku, at this point in the anime, remains frustrating–until the manga gives that a good payoff and seems to be sticking the landing on it. That’s one of the challenges of reviewing the manga as it goes on, and why reviewing the anime is in some ways easier: I can see where the pieces fit in and what is being set up. It doesn’t change that it’s annoying right now in this moment, but it fits in the overall scheme of her and Izuku’s story. But When it comes to how Toga is going to tie into this, I’m less convinced, but we’ll get to that in the next few episodes and in tomorrow’s manga review.
Oh, and Bakugo remains the worst. I’m so grateful he is tolerable in the manga right now, because the fact that he was getting away with this nonsense up to Chapter 253 is an indictment against teachers like Aizawa and All Might.
I apologize for how much this post seemed like a long college lecture (a college instructor leturing–shocking), or a Rachel Maddow monologue–only far less repetitive than Maddow’s condescending “I’m going to repeat the same point five times and treat you like you haven’t been paying attention”–and far less financially profitable. This is basically a joke I told a friend after posting last week’s review:
“Show me you’re an academic without telling me you’re an academic.”
“I wrote nine pages reviewing an episode without actually reviewing the episode."
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Digimon Adventure [Taichi/Koushiro (Taishiro)] Fic
Series: Digimon Adventure[s];
Tri is referenced / implied-as-AUs or for semi-canon compliancy
(light spoilers for Kokuhaku; but not majorly referenced; just a quote)
{plus a gif of a small moment involving Taichi + Koushiro}
[also one more small conversation moment between Taichi and Meiko]
(a scene from the first episode of the 2020 Reboot is referenced)
Title: Words
Type: Fanfiction / Shortfic
Wordcount: 125 words, plus a small series of gifs
Characters/Pair: Taishiro [Taichi x Koushiro]
Rating: Gen[eral] / PG (for this part)
Warnings: none for this specific part; more just written a bit dramatically
Genre: also Gen/with ship implied, if written just a bit dramatically
Notes:
part of REPEAT?_Verse, (ficverse version here);
- it can be read as a standalone fic
- it can be read as an AU and/or spinoff of the main REPEATVerse;
- or as its own standalone AU/spinoff
(i.e. this can be read on its own)
-- This bit is short enough, so I thought I’d post it over here.
-- Added some gifs / quotations for emphasis
-- formatting is also for emphasis
-- the gifs at the beginning are also for direct quotes references
-- Japanese version characterization of Koushiro is used/referred to.
(Namely indicating his overly-formal-way of speaking in Japanese)
-- see further notes at end for a bit more (including head-canons)
gifs by izzyizumi, {DO NOT REPOST}
{usage of gifs may be allowed
if permission is asked / or if credit is given.
However, read my ‘About’ & AGREE to my ‘FAQ’ pages first.
Please do not use / ask
if you match anything in my “Do Not Interact” section.}
[note: commenting/tagging respecfully/positively is ok!]
[please click on the above banners to enlarge!]
{PLEASE READ THE ABOVE BANNERS BEFORE INTERACTING}
Summary:
{ WORDS }
-- To be honest,
Taichi and Koushiro don't need words.
( They have a lot more than Just )
( words )
-- Like,
... the way that Taichi-san
looks at him,
so gently.
( ... when he thinks Koushiro can't tell. )
Like,
... the way that Koushiro does
the exact same thing
all the time
( and Taichi notices )
( every time. )
Like,
... the way that Taichi-san
-- gently touches his shoulder.
( Attempting reassuring? him )
Like,
... the way that Koushiro ALWAYS,
ALWAYS, WITHOUT FAIL, uses,
"Taichi-san"
Like,
the way Taichi --
-- RECOGNIZES --
... WORDS ARE HARD for Koushiro.
Like,
the way Taichi --
-- is always there for him
-- regardless.
Like,
the way Koushiro --
will always be
by --
Taichi-san’s
-- side
-- until,
the very end.
Notes:
-Originally written December 29, 2018; not posted previously.
-Posted today for a couple particularly kind-of-reasons (see tags).
-Also, when taking place in the main REPEAT universe,
my Asexuality spectrum headcanons for either may be read in/implied
- it is also Asexuality Awareness week, hence also why posting today.
{ Ace Week is October 25 through October 31st }
{ for Taichi I can see him as Demiromantic Pansexual OR
Pan-Demiromantic & Demisexual, depending on ‘verse }
{ for Koushiro, essentially the same thing.
However, in Tri canon compliancy specifically, I usually put him as
Demiromantic Pansexual }
{ I can also see either as Queer in general, or Bi.
[ while also using Gay as an Umbrella term ]
Though for Koushiro I usually keep him specifically more as Pan.
For both I also really love Gender-fluid headcanons,
though this part was specifically also written with
Ace and Aro[mantic]-spectrum headcanons in mind. }
#taishiro#taishirou#taichi x koushirou#taichi x koushiro#izumi koushirou#izzyizumi posts#izzyizumi fic#fic: repeat#verse: repeat#verse: advs#verse: AU#verse: tri#verse: standalone#c: koushiro izumi#c: taichi yagami#c: taichi#c: koushiro#(mainly this is me pointing out various little moments between them)#(Koushiro very clearly struggles with wording at times in the Japanese version)#(to a kind of extent Taichi himself does too when it comes to Emotions)#(yet they sure do work as a team PERFECTLY despite that huh)#(up to the point of Taichi in tri TO MEIKO blatantly defending Koushiro's way of communicating)#(today is also the birthday of . my bio-Parent)#(so i'm in A Mood)#(there are Reasons why I relate so heavily to Koushiro as a character)#(It'd be cool if people could like. recognize that when they interact with me about him? idek)#(literally. I could reference every single Japanese version Koushiro scene moment and quote to you in Detail)#(i'm actually doing a bit of that here... idek it just. feels sometimes like people don't like recognize these things about me)#(anyway as always Read The Banners and my FAQ BEFORE interacting)
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Rambling about RE2R and RE3R’s cut content part 2
Read part 1 here.
Part 2: RE3R
So I’m gonna be honest, I really like RE3R. It’s narrative and characters are 10/10 for me, something I haven’t been able to say about RE in a long time (honestly my biggest gripes with re5 and 6 are the complete wasted potential of their narratives and characters). I’ll go more in depth about it later but yeah I’ve got no complaints about the story or characters. My problems with RE3R come down to it’s length, level design and the utilization of Nemesis. So let’s get started.
spoilers ahead
Cut/altered/new content:
Live select options were cut in favour of a cohesive narrative and characterization (which have been expanded upon greatly), Jill’s apartment is now explorable, Nemesis ambushes Jill at her apartment and her escape is now playable, the graveyard is gone (though there is a nod to the graveyard at the start of the rpd section), the clock tower interior and its puzzles are gone (it’s exterior is used for the boss fight against Nemesis form 2 like the original), no water puzzle, the gravedigger has been merged with hunter gamma as a common enemy type, Uptown is now a linear setpiece that cannot be revisited, there are fewer Nemesis encounters, Nemesis item drops aren’t as worthwhile as the original, there’s a new boss fight with Nemesis as he wields a flamethrower, tram has been changed to a subway train, fetchquest for the tram has been cut, Mikhail is now fully conscious for his entire appearance, new character Dr Bard included with new vaccine subplot, fetchquest for the gems has been made optional instead of mandatory, Mayor Warren’s statue is no longer fetchquest related and can be found before crossing the bridge to the clock tower, battery fetchquest for the construction site elevator has been changed to fuses for the underground storage facility elevator, Nemesis destroying the helicopter has been moved to the beginning of the game, Brad is still bitten at Bar Jack but heroically sacrifices himself rather than act like a huge coward, Brad is not killed by Nemesis, Brad infects Marvin (which ties in well with both og re2 and RE2R surprisingly), Racoon city in general has been redesigned to look like an american city instead of a japanese one, Stagla still explodes but cannot be entered, the zombie horde at Stagla has been moved to the hospital in a tower defence sequence, Drain Deimos and Brainsuckers have been merged, no leeches, no spiders or crows, new enemies the pale heads and parasite zombies, construction site and power station have been merged, once Jill has been infected Carlos takes her to the hospital instead of the chapel iside the clock tower, likewise Carlos doesn’t wait for 2 days before deciding to find a cure instead it takes him around 12 hours to find Jill and he immediately looks for the vaccine, hospital has been expanded, underground storage facility replaces the park, dead factory is merged with a new lab area, Tyrell is now an actual character and dies to Nemesis intead of an explosion, final boss is now reliant on Jill operating the rail gun herself rather than coercing Nemesis in front of it, iconic STARS line has been moved from the final boss fight to a chase sequence, the confrontation with Nicholai has been moved to the climax of the game, Nicholai is implied to be working with Wesker instead of Umbrella and of course the alternate ending with Barry was cut.
So RE3R does cut or alter the content of the original but in most cases it does try to replace whatever was cut. Also regardless of cuts, re3′s narrative has been expanded upon with character arcs and lore tying it to the rest of the series, that alone justifies this game’s existence for me. As much as I love the original, its bare bones plot and narrative structure (a result of being a sort of choose your adventure game) as well as the fact that it started as a spinoff game and the fact that its last three levels were added last minute (hence the vaccine plotline coming out of nowhere) really don’t do it any favours. I still enjoy the original story and characters but I think the remake did a better job at both these things.
So I had some major problems with the writing for RE2R in both terms of the overall narrative (there is no cohesive overlapping narrative between our two leads) and the portrayal of certain characters (Leon and Ada), so what did I think of RE3R? It’s good. It’s really good actually, the acting is probably the best in the series tbh. Jill’s ptsd from the mansion incident and how it has made her distrustful but also self sacrificing is so interesting. This is perfectly displayed when she agrees to help the UBCS, she knows she shouldn’t help them, that Umbrella is out to get her but with civilian lives on the line she decides to fulfil her duty as a STARS officer and help out. But she isn’t just abrasive or snarky, she shows she is still a very caring person too, this can be seen in her interactions with Brad, Kendo and even Dario, she wants to genuinely save all three of them but things just don’t work out that way. Carlos is great, way better than his original incarnation and I say that as someone who likes that version too. He’s a great support character for Jill and also acts somewhat as a foil for her character and his arc about learning of Umbrella’s wrongdoings is handled well. I think everyone can aggree that Carlos and Jill’s dynamic is fantastic, the growth of their relationship feels very organic and genuine. I never expected to care about Brad so much, in the original he’s just a huge coward who exists to be killed by Nemesis but now he actually feels like a person and someone who Jill valued. Also holy shit that scene where he bites Marvin is so much more narratively fulfilling than his death by Nemesis. Mikhail’s expanded role as captain is great, as is his death. Tyrell actually gets to be a character this time around and I actually hoped he’d somehow survive. Dr Bard is a total scumbag and his inclusion finally explains the vaccine’s creation as well as adding to the overall corruption of RC via Umbrella. Nicholai’s a total ham and a dickhead, I mean this in a good way I would describe all my favourite RE villians this way (the Weskers, the Ashfords, Salazar, Carla Radames, Jack Baker). And form 1 Nemesis has some fun dramatic flair that I enjoyed. Also I will defend the choice to remove Barry from the ending, I really like Barry but it was the right decision not to involve him as it would really work against the game’s narrative and Jill’s character arc.
Now onto RE3R’s level design and structure and in my opinion it should have borrowed more from the og re3′s level design way more. What we have isn’t bad but it could’ve been much more. The streets being redesigned was inevitable to me, I really enjoy the aesthetic of the original but it looks very Japanese and RC is supposed to be a US city, so this change doesn’t bother me. The linearity does. The streets should have been more open and you should have been able to return to Uptown to explore (adding back in a fetchquest would justify this), this would give way more opportunities for Nemesis to stalk the player. What’s strange is there is a mod that opens up Downtown to be almost completely explorable and Nemesis’s AI can actually track you throughout it’s entirety, why bother programming him that way if the intention was to make the area more linear? When Nemesis does show up in the remake he’s great but he should have been present way more, he’s like the opposite of Mr X in RE2R. Mr X follows the player semi randomly around the RPD for a while but he is pretty toothless as a threat (seriously, you can out walk him), Nemesis on the other hand is a genuine threat but is only semi random for an incredibly short portion of the game. Expanding the streets would fix this issue. The park could’ve been an explorable area before the RPD, I personally don’t mind the park being cut but i know a lot of people do. They should have implemented more puzzles. I also think the clock tower should have been explorable and if I’m being honest I think it was supposed to be, it’s referenced in the subway and then we get the pamphlet before crossing the bridge, I think it was cut for time. I think a lot was cut for time and I don’t think it’s M2′s fault, i think Capcom is the problem here and all you need to do is look at RE2R and all of its cut content for proof.
Honestly if this game had just reintegrated some more of the original games levels and structure I think it would have been a 10/10, I still enjoy what we got I just want more! I hope we get DLC in the future and there’s certainly ample opportunity, we could have a ghost survivors scenario with Brad escaping Nemesis, we could play as Nicholai as he collects data on the outbreak before the main game, a dream sequence of Jill exploring the clock tower, Tyrell could cut through the park as he makes his way to the hospital and of course I hope we get Mercenaries mode. I guess time will tell.
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Alt-talia x Evillious Chronicles: The Key to Zorn (Part 1 v. 2)
Sigh… there appears to have been a misunderstanding between the event holder and I. I just hope I hear back from them.
Just in case, this is an alternate version of “Key to Zorn”, which I resubmitted for the Free Day prompt, but could also be considered to be one for Fate/Coincidence or By your side. It’s platonic at this point. You may read either version, as the differences are mostly superficial, but I thought this version may be more fitting considering how I write Alt-Germany.
[Summary: Crossover with the Nemesis arc of the Evillious Chronicles. Everyone is searching for their very own Happy Ending... But where is his, if it exists at all?
Young Ludwig Beilshmidt lives alone in a cabin in the woods, waiting for the return of his mother. But one winter morning, a certain, seemingly chance encounter changes his life forever, leading his life to become increasingly entangled with much grander plans...]
(Yes, lame summary, but I didn’t know how to write it without spoilers. The same text as the original is copy-pasted below)
Couldn’t come up with a better title.
Okay… so… holy hell.
This is the longest fic I’ve ever written. And it isn’t even finished.
I thought “Superbia” was long. But… I outdid myself. Over FORTY FREAKIN’ PAGES IN GOOGLE DOCS. And again, this is not finished, I’m splitting it so I at least have the hope of releasing something! With two routes! This is a novel, folks!
I’m probably going to repost this for the Christmas event since I want as much people to see them as possible. Because there are some Christmas elements here. So yeah, you can take this as an early Christmas fic too.
This will be a movie, folks. Grab a seat and some popcorn.
Also, look, it’s goddamn Ludwig torment again! For the fourth time in the span of a month! And this might just be the most elaborate way I’ve tormented the poor guy yet. But I didn’t really have many options.
So I wanted to enter Mirror Week, but in the main canons write in, Alt-talia and Hetalia Emblem, I haven’t come up with any use for 2Ps, and in the former case I can’t see how I could use them.
However, there was one Alt-talia spin-off AU I had been thinking they would exist on; I didn’t know whether I wanted to release media to it so early, and due to a reason I will explain in a moment, I was reluctant to release media about it in general. But… I went with it.
This is my Evillious Chronicles AU. Yes, an AU of an AU. What about that.
Basically, the Evillious Chronicles is what started as a series of Vocaloid songs telling a much larger story; it has since ballooned into a vast, tangled network of light novels and other such media. It’s as confusing as it sounds. Some of you may have heard of the songs “Daughter of Evil” and “Servant of Evil”; those were the first songs to be released in that series. Those two songs weren’t self-contained, oh no.
The thing is, for this AU I wanted to write just based on the seven sin songs (and Servant of Evil), with accompanying Hetaloid covers, and leave the rest of the story up to the audience. I’m still planning on that. However, I still wanted to enter the event, so here I am presenting a version of events for one of the arcs; however, it is merely the route that hews closest to Evillious canon from what I can gather of it. So yeah, NONE OF THIS IS HARD CANON. Especially since I wasn’t sure on the roles of some characters here.
Also, if I somehow ever get to publishing my main Evillious x Hetalia fics sometime in the future; first of all, hi. But more importantly, please, I implore you, do not read this before reading The Muzzle of Ludwig. Especially the second half. I tried to avoid spoilers, but someone becomes extremely obvious with contextual clues.
Also… it’s not like I wanted to write Ludwig torment again. But he was basically my only option, since he was the only one whose sin most likely overlaps with… well, it’ll become clear as this goes on. Ludwig’s story here is based on Nemesis Sudou’s story. Though since Nemesis and Ludwig are vastly different characters, there may be some plot holes, unfortunately.
And THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT: for those who have read none of my other works yet, Alt-talia has often vastly, vastly different characterizations. I based most of these characterizations off of their late 19th century to very early 20th century personalities in Alt-talia. Special OOC warning for the following characters: Austria, Hungary, and Prussia. Minor OOC warning for Germany. I used @askimperialludwig ‘s version of the character as a reference, along with my personal perception and research. may add more later.
Also, credit to my friend @tomboyjessie13 , my Evillious consultant, for helping me through this!
I can’t let this be too long, since the fic is long already. Let’s go!
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(Also... people who read my fics, please reblog them. I work hard on them, and want many to see them!)
And since I forgot to add this above the cut; this canon is also one of the few times Nyotalia characters canonically exist as their own entity in my works, if not the only one so far. It’s kind of necessary, since otherwise it’ll turn into a complete sausagefest. However, as I have no set personality for them in main Alt-talia canon, I basically write them the same way as I would their male counterparts, with maybe some minor changes. I do have some ideas for Nyotalia characters in “what if” stories for main Alt-talia canon, but since this would be an Alt-talia spinoff, most of my theoretical audience would be there for the Alt-talia characters who appear in most Alt-talia media. Not to mention male stereotypes for countries are usually more fun anyway. However, in this universe two counterparts of the same character can co-exist. I try to avoid that though.
Also, a character named “Arendt” is briefly mentioned; this is Brandenburg. He isn’t really that important though, and really I’ve barely fleshed him out, so that’s all you need to know.
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The Key To Zorn
Part 1: And Then The Boy Went Mad
In a certain continent, there was a forest.
A serene, peaceful forest, where inside one could almost feel mystical energy in the clear, unpolluted air.
Until, under the evening sky, a gunshot sounded.
Ludwig Beilschmidt, a boy of merely 8 with innocent, cornflower blue eyes, ran through the forest he knew so well, a basket of wild berries and herbs in his arms and a small sack over his back.
Soon, in his view, among the trees and wild cornflowers was the only place he had known all his life, the little wooden cottage he called home.
The boy immediately checked his old, somewhat rusted mailbox, a look of anxiousness on his face - one which immediately turned to disappointment upon finding there was nothing there.
He sighed.
“Nothing today either...”
He reached up somewhat, twisting the doorknob and opening the wooden door.
“I’m home!”
No one answered back.
As per usual.
He didn’t expect one anyway.
Ludwig went to the dining table, setting the basket and sack, as well as his small, old-model pistol, down on his side of the table. Inside the sack was a small rabbit; the poor little thing. He hoped it didn’t struggle for long after he had shot it.
He prepared dinner as he always did, the bubbling as the ingredients stewed the only sounds other than the cries of the wildlife outside.
And he ate in silence by the light of the lamp, staring at the empty, vacant other side of the table, the light of the sun dim and faint.
“Mutter, is it good?”
Nothing.
Ludwig sighed again, going back to shoving the stew into his mouth.
——-
Ludwig tucked himself into bed after a bath and a change of clothes, now in his old, almost too small pajamas, having finished the book in his hands an hour ago - while he had reread it and others several times already, it was a window into a world different from his, where friends supported each other and families told stories in front of the fire - but now that it was over, here he was, once again, stuck in loneliness, on his own, within the cold, dark walls of a small cabin.
Once again, it was quiet. All too quiet; except for the sounds of the forest.
Now as he had nothing to distract him, every rustling of the underbrush, every animal cry made him bristle. The forest was his comfort by day, almost a second mother, but by night, it was dark, feral.
He pulled his blankets up to his face, curling up, shaking like a leaf. He felt any moment, a beast could break through the walls and tear him to shreds.
He missed his mother so much, oh how he missed her. Her harsh but protective voice, her calloused hands squeezing his wrists. He missed his onkel Arendt, who told him stories of the battles he and Mutter had been through.
She’s dead. She’s dead, accept it.
No, no she wasn’t.
She couldn’t be. She had to be alive.
She was too strong to die.
She would come back. She always came back.
His mother wouldn’t want to see him like this anyway. He was being pathetic.
“Einz, zwei, drei...”
He took a deep breath. He was stronger than this.
Imagining his mother was standing by his bed, staring at him with disapproval at his fearful behavior, finally his shivering started to lessen ever so slightly.
He needed to make it so that when she came home with another medal shining on her chest, she could come home to a son she could be proud of, after all.
“Good night.”
He said to no one in particular, as he let the faint moonlight be his comfort, finally closing his eyes.
Lu li la la lu li la la la...
A soothing, calming melody played in his mind; Ludwig didn’t know where he knew it from, but as it surrounded him in soft, almost familiar gentleness, the shivering stopped, his muscles loosened, and he was finally lured into the welcome embrace of sleep.
Lu li la la lu li la la la…
Lu li la la lu li la la la...
———-
“FIRE!”
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Birds flew away in massive numbers, disturbed by the sudden noise.
Ludwig blew the steam off his pistol, seeing that the bullets had all landed near-target. Almost there.
Not bothered by the recoil anymore, he lined up the shot again, swearing he would get it right this time.
Every two days he did this, before 10 sets of running, marching, and every parallel bar routine; this wasn’t how most children his age passed their time, willingly anyway, if the books he read were any indication, and surely he felt sorry for the animals who had to hear such things, as they were the closest things to friends he had. But it broke the silence.
And most of all, he could almost sense his mother beside him during these practice drills; he could feel her hands on his arms guiding him in his aim, and hear her voice shouting in tandem with him as he shouted “FIRE!”. In fact, sometimes he swore she actually was there, by his side.
He took a deep breath and aimed again.
“FIRE!”
-----------------------
When he came home, he once again saw a basket of supplies.
They always puzzled him. They came at such random, unpredictable intervals, filled with food, a few bottles of milk, several cartridges of bullets, and even occasionally a book, toy, bar of soap, or other extra, but by the time he found them no one was ever there.
He should be grateful. Though he wished someone would explain to him.
Oh well.
-----------------------------
Days passed, then months.
Once again, on the night of his 9th birthday, Ludwig laid alone, the weak moonlight unable to brighten his gradually deepening pit of despair.
The silence was maddening. He craved for any touch, for any warmth of another person, for anything. But even that simple wish was too much to ask.
He bunched up the worn blanket, the cold, frigid winter air seeping into the cabin.
Every day, he wondered if he was slowly going mad.
Holding a cornflower and his mother’s black cross necklace to his chest, looked out into the moon, to the night sky peeking from a clearing in the trees.
A star shot through the night sky, and Ludwig was quick to make his wish.
I hope Mutter will answer my letters soon.
She had always told him that believing in such things was foolish.
But what was the pain in hanging onto the little light he could find?
-------------------
Now’s your time.
Alright. I’m going in. See you.
------------------
One cold, chilling day, towards the final days of the year he turned 9, Ludwig stepped outside to check his mailbox again.
Snow lightly dusted the ground, softly landing on his old, worn coat.
He had checked his homemade calendar; Sancbruma. Such a lovely holiday. But now, just yet another cold, freezing, lonely day. Oh well. He had known Pater Natalis wasn’t real for years to need confirmation.
But this day, after creaking the old thing open, he found something.
His heart almost stopped.
Immediately, he ripped the envelope often, his heart pounding in his ears, his breath quickening, and he immediately glued his focus to the words, written specially to be understandable to a child.
Ludwig Beilshmidt, we are sorry to inform you that…
Time seemed to stop. He swore his heart stopped.
Dread shot through his body like lightning.
He read on, clinging onto the little hope that still remained with him all those years as they escaped from him, flying away as he fell deeper.
…
…
Tears fell from his face.
She was gone.
She was really gone.
Finally, suppressed despair replaced dread, filling every corner of his mind and body, every nerve, every muscle.
But mixed with it, and eventually almost overpowering it in the concoction of emotion, was wrath.
Pure, unbridled wrath.
He tore the paper and screamed, his screams piercing the serene forest air.
Tears fell from his eyes like a burst dam as he cried into his hands, cursing whoever had killed her, her fate, the cruelty of the gods.
If only he could get his hands on whatever bastard killed her, he would strangle them, he would gouge out their eyes, he would shoot them in the leg and watch them bleed to death, how dare they take his mother away!
He had always been told the best came to those who were patient.
He was proven wrong that day.
All those years, waiting, hoping, hoping for nothing.
Nothing.
His mother was never going to come back. Ever.
Grief, anger, and sadness gripped his small frame as he shook, on the ground, his young brain besieged with intense emotions and reality, dreaded, painful reality.
Don’t cry. How pathetic. Is that how I raised you?
Ludwig forced himself to take deep breaths, desperately fighting his tears and holding back the flow of the concoction of emotions any further.
No, his mother wouldn’t want to see him like this. He couldn’t let her be honored like this.
“Einz, zwei, drei, einz, zwei, drei...”
He took a breath with every word, forcing his emotions back and attempting to lock them away, until finally once again he could think somewhat coherently.
It was here he noticed something perched on the mailbox.
He looked up.
An eagle.
A stark-black eagle, its yellow talons sharp enough to pierce skin, its bright, intelligent, fierce eyes a rare violet.
He didn’t notice it before in his panic, but now the dominant emotion in his mind was confusion.
As he sniffled, the eagle cocked its head, staring at Ludwig.
“...An eagle?”
Ludwig’s mind immediately jumped back to the beginning of the year.
I hope Mutter will answer my letters soon.
“Are… are you from my Mutter?”
Silence.
Immediately, he embraced the eagle, causing it to screech loudly and flap its powerful wings in shock.
“It’s adorable! I love it Mutter! Thank you!”
The boy’s short arms wrapped around the first living thing it had embraced, nay, touched, in years.
He was actually holding something living. Oh, it had been so long. Oh so long.
He had almost forgotten what it felt like to hold life in his arms, to feel its warmth, to feel its gentle rising and falling, to hear the subtle sounds of another’s breath in his ears.
For the first time in years, despite the unforgiving cold of the winter morning air, warmth reached Ludwig’s heart, happiness brewing with and overpowering now subdued despair and rage.
<Sure… Whatever makes you happy, kid.>
------------------------------------------
“Oy vey… I was too late again.
...This world is fucked.”
-------------------------------------
Ludwig put some meat in front of the raptor, which surely enough soon started picking it apart.
“It’s good right? What should I call you… I’ll have to give you a name.”
He stared at the eagle, deep in thought.
“Oh, I know… Schwarzchen!”
The eagle looked at him.
“You like it? Then Schwarzchen it is!”
<...I didn’t say anything. ’Blackie’? You cannot be serious.>
--------------------
That night was different from usual.
Ludwig pet the bird as it made a nest out of rags beside him, wishing it good night. It had seemed reluctant at first, clearly not used to such close contact but as Ludwig begged it to stay, as if it understood him, it decided to stay with him.
It’s fierce gaze felt protective in the silent darkness, as if his mother really had returned, watching for anything that could harm him.
Oh, he almost forgot something.
He took his mother’s necklace from his bedside table, putting it around the eagle’s neck.
“There. Perfect. It suits you.”
It squawked.
“Good night, Schwarzchen.”
That night, sleep came to Ludwig easier than usual, watched by the protective gaze of his new companion.
----------
“Hallo. Kid. Wake up.”
Ludwig awoke, his eyes fluttering open.
Once his eyes focused, he almost yelped in shock.
He was somewhere he didn’t recognize, some formless void; Schwarzchen was nowhere to be seen, nor were the walls of his cabin or even his forest, all that remained was his bed.
In front of him was a man clad in what seemed to be a long white lab coat and some type of mantle, or at least Ludwig assumed, his clothing style almost resembling that in illustrations in one of his novels, ostensibly chronicling ancient legends; but not just any man.
A man who looked almost exactly like how one would imagine Ludwig would look like when he was older, save for his unnatural purple, almost magenta eyes that shined with a calculating glint, a scar under his left.
“H… hallo?”
“Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you.”
“I… Who are you?”
The man smiled at him softly; despite his harsh features, it calmed some of Ludwig’s nerves, just a little.
“That isn’t important. But you’re lonely, right? And it’s causing you pain, yes?”
His voice was deep; much lower than Arendt’s, the only other reference he had for an adult man, surprising Ludwig a bit.
The boy nodded.
The man dug into one of his pockets, taking out a key.
“Here. I’ll be your friend; all you have to do is take the other end of this key, and you won’t feel any of that loneliness and pain any more…”
Tentatively, Ludwig took it.
The boy gasped as he suddenly felt something overwhelming and indescribable other than energy blitz between him and the strange man through the key; it was painless, in fact almost manic energy, bright lights flashing in his vision.
Ludwig woke up.
The boy laid there, his eyes wide, his mind mulling over what he had just seen.
“A dream… it was a dream… Who was that man?”
He turned, and there Schwarzchen was.
“Never mind… Good morning, Schwarzchen.”
<Are you really going with that name?>
Ludwig blinked.
“...Did you just…”
<I thought children were supposed to be creative?>
Ludwig’s eyes widened. He held his head; it seemed to be coming from within his head, like a thought, instead of from his ears.
“...Schwarzchen? Is that you?”
<Yes, this is the eagle. And I have a name.>
Ludwig took a few seconds to process the information.
“...What? ...Mein Gott, I’ve really gone crazy…”
<No. This is real. I’m speaking to you through something called telepathy. Speaking to you through your mind. I could explain all the intricate details but it would probably short-circuit your child brain.>
“I know what it is. But it’s just like in the stories! Wow! I didn’t know they really happened!”
<Well you could say that.>
Ludwig sat up on the side of his bed.
“You keep insulting my naming sense. So what is your name?”
“Schwarzchen” looked him directly in the eyes.
<Well, well, it’s the same as yours, funnily enough. Ludwig.>
“We have the same name? What a coincidence.”
<But I know that is confusing. Just call me Lutz. That is what everyone calls me.>
“Alright… Lutz it is. ...I liked ‘Schwarzchen’ though.”
<...Whatever, kid.>
---------------------------
Like that, Ludwig and Lutz became friends.
His 10th birthday had been the best birthday he had in years, even if it was just the two of them.
Over time, Lutz taught the boy how to use telepathy; and without him saying a word, he became a third hand to him, especially in hunting; more meats were amassed with every session, and fruits even from the highest trees were now accessible.
...Sometimes. Other times, the eagle merely preened itself, telling him to “Do it on his own.”
Ludwig wondered if all eagles were like this. But even then, he didn’t mind. Even if Lutz was a cold, snarky jerk sometimes, it didn’t matter.
Every day, they ate together, went hunting together, bathed together, and at the end of the day slept together.
He could almost forget his loneliness, and the fact that his mother would never return.
Almost.
——————
As Ludwig braced himself on his bed, he once again counted his breaths.
The wrath he felt that day; it was coming back. From within, it seemed to spread to his entire body, to the point it was unbearable.
He would never forget that pain. He couldn’t. But mindless rage was for the foolish.
He wouldn’t forget. But he would remember, silently.
When he looked to Lutz, Lutz didn’t seem afraid at all. He merely stared at him with those violet eyes.
Ludwig embraced Lutz, not letting go.
-----------------
Lutz stared at the young boy as he slept, his chest rising and falling.
<How cute.>
It was easy.
A bit too easy.
What did he expect from a child though.
<Still, would have liked a bit more of a challenge.
Oh well. Sleep tight, kid.
...Though do I always have to be right next to you?>
--------------------
Over the next year, Ludwig grew. Now on the cusp of puberty, he became stronger, he could run faster and further, and he could shoot with more and more accuracy.
On the morning of his 11th birthday, Lutz presented him with a query.
<Kid.>
“Huh? What is it, Lutz?”
<Now that you know that your mother isn’t coming home…>
Ludwig froze.
<Don’t cry on me.>
“I wasn’t going to”
<Yes, yes. In anyway, since you know you mother isn’t coming home, what’s the point staying in this place anymore?>
The boy pondered it.
<I’m a bird and even I know it’s pointless waiting for someone if they’re clearly dead. Well maybe I’m not the one to talk here.>
He was right.
“But… This is all I have ever known.”
<Don’t worry about it. You’re smart. I think. You should find out what to do soon enough.>
“...Jawohl. I don’t know what my purpose is being here forever too… It’s not like this place will disappear either. And it’s not what Mutter would want me to do. ...We’re leaving tonight.”
————-
Ludwig opened his drawer.
There it was; the notice he had torn up all those years ago.
Why did he still have it?
Just so he would never forget, probably.
Ludwig sealed the notice into a pouch before the rage became too much to bear, stuffing it into his bag, going to fetch his clothing. He had a sailor suit saved up for “special occasions”; he hoped he hadn’t outgrown it already.
--------------
Ludwig looked behind his back one last time to the small cabin, the cornflowers, the trees he had known for his entire 11 years of living.
It felt so odd to know he would be away from it after so long
He quickly ran back, Lutz grumbling behind him, and picked a few flowers, pressing them between the pages of a book.
<Are you done now?>
“Jawohl. Coming, coming!”
-----------
When Ludwig entered the capital, the little truly important belongings he had on his back, he was in awe.
It bustled with energy, with people, rickety, clanking automobiles and trolleys spewing steam or smoke that made him cough if he went to close, radio commercials resounding through the air, as well as delicious smells the likes of which he hadn’t known in years, some never before, but mixed in with the inexplicable smell of whatever was coming out of the automobiles.
Ludwig wasn’t quite sure whether he liked it or disliked it, but most accurately he would describe it as a strange mix of the two; but more than anything, everything was so new.
He marveled at the sight of a trolley passing by, when he heard honking behind him.
“Get out of the way brat!”
Ludwig stepped back, hopping back to the sidewalk, and an automobile clunked on, its driver looking at him irritated.
But its movements fascinated him, how the machine seemed to move magically, how it seemed to have a life of its own.
“...Where should I even start?”
<Well? Do you have any relatives?>
“Not that I know of.”
Lutz looked to the right. His light of sight led to a small group of children.
<You could try living on the streets like them for a few days. See where it gets you.>
“...Oh.”
Ludwig sighed. He may as well.
————-
“Shoo! Shoo!”
“No money? We aren’t a charity, sorry.”
“Outta the way!”
————-
Ludwig slept in an alley that night, huddled in his old blanket.
He was so tired. He just remembered he hadn’t slept for an entire day, and it was finally catching up to him.
He had gotten some attention due to being cleaner-looking than the rest, though Lutz was far more charming in their eyes. But more often than not, the overwhelming message in the air was clear; he wasn’t welcome here.
“Lutz?”
<What is it, kid?>
“Why didn’t you tell me I needed money for everything?”
<Didn’t you read about it?>
“I didn’t know it was this necessary.”
<I can’t hold your hand all the time.>
“...Lutz?”
<...What now?>
“There’s so many people here. But I still feel so alone.”
<Well at least you got some to get through the night. Don’t be choosy.>
“Jawohl… Good night.”
————
Seeing no reason not to, Ludwig had decided to explore the city a bit more the next morning, after having helped himself and Lutz to a piece of bread and some beef jerky he had bought, plus the miscellaneous items he had been given the day before.
After a long while of walking, taking in the different sights, from the historical landmarks and building to new projects, some even in the midst of being built, neatly separated or together, working in at times harmonious and at times chaotic tandem. Every so often he saw stray animals run about. After some time he started to see schoolchildren, some about his age, run to school with their friends, adults dressed in suits on their way to work.
Until, Ludwig started to feel the air change.
It felt somewhat... sticky? The breeze seemed stronger. And inexplicably salty.
For he had reached the city harbor. Birds, they were called seagulls he believed, cawed above. Fishermen had far since left the dock, and in the distance, trade ships were being loaded to go who knows where. And they were floating on a vast, open field of water, water, nothing but water.
“Lutz... is this...”
<The ocean? What, you don’t even know what the ocean is?>
He had heard his mother’s stories about the ocean; while she had never been a woman of the seas per se, she was in the army, not the navy after all, he had heard her describe growing up near it. It was odd thinking that she, too, had been a child once like him.
This ocean was to her like the forest was to him, quite possibly.
She had also spoken about a rumor; a rumor that a wish put into a bottle and cast into the sea would, eventually, be granted. She had dismissed it as childish of course. And she did say that she much preferred the land after growing up.
Though according to Onkel Arendt, she would at times, despite this, just go to her childhood home, staring out into the eternal ocean.
He wondered what she had thought as her red eyes stared out into the distant horizon, the salty breeze flowing through her silver-white hair.
It was strange, imagining his mother like that. The sea was so free, almost careless; the complete opposite of her. But maybe that was exactly what drew her to it.
Ludwig started running along the dock, letting Lutz chase him, the briny wind rushing past him and through his hair. People had started to come to swim, and the city was starting to fully come to life.
Even if life was hard, at least he had some way of entertaining himself when everything was so brand new.
--------------
One day, a duo of teenagers spotted Ludwig.
And being the thugs they were, Ludwig suddenly found himself in confrontation with two kids much larger, older, and stronger than he; even if Ludwig was tougher than most 11-year-olds, these two seemed to be about 14 at least, if not, and probably, 15.
“Hey street rat, where’s your mutti?!”
Ludwig tried not to pay them any heed, even if he bristled at the rude words.
“...What business do you have with me?”
The shorter one grabbed him by the collar.
“I asked you a question, shorty!”
After the initial shock and fear, Ludwig felt a flash of anger. His fists clenched as he tried to struggle his way out. And worst of all was that he couldn’t do anything.
<Kid. Listen.>
“What?!”
<Listen to me. Tell me to “Intimidate”. Now. Don’t ask questions.>
“Of course! ...Intimidate, Lutz!”
————-
Ludwig stood there, dumbfounded at what he had just witnessed, as the teenagers ran away, screaming “DEMON BIRD! DEMON BIRD!”
Lutz flew back and perched on his head, looking terribly bored, as if nothing had happened.
“How… how…”
<I’m a Very Amazing Bird, you could say.>
————
A week passed; Ludwig counted, as he always valued timekeeping, no matter what. The other street children left him alone, eyeing him strangely. Occasionally, he heard extortionists threatening some unfortunate soul.
That was when, however, Lutz told him something vital.
<Hey. Have you ever considered asking the police if you have any relatives?>
Ludwig looked at the eagle perched on his arm, puzzled.
“What?”
Lutz pointed a wing at a building.
<There. It says “POLIZEI”. Can’t you read?>
“...Why? Won’t they throw me in jail or something?”
<Actually they have records too. They might have your mother’s family on file.>
Lutz looked to see Ludwig’s dumbfounded face staring back at him.
“...Why didn’t you tell me that?!”
He took flight and landed on his head, preening himself.
<Thought it would be interesting to observe you. Also don’t be too loud. Everyone will think you’re a crazy person.>
Ludwig took a look around, and indeed there were some passerbys staring at him.
Ludwig loudly sighed, his palm on his face.
“...Fine. Thanks anyway.”
--------------------------
“Your name?”
“Ludwig Beilshmidt.”
The officers looked at him for a few seconds.
“...As in Julia Beilshmidt? General Julia Beilshmidt?”
“Jawohl.”
They were in shock.
“...Excuse me? Is something wrong?”
“Erm… We apologize. Ja.”
“Do I have any relatives? I need some place to stay.”
“...Ja. We will search immediately. Please wait here. But it may take a while.”
————-
“Hallo? Is this the police? Why must you be calling?”
“Well, you see, sir… It appears that a relative of yours has suddenly shown up out of nowhere. ...He claims to be Beilshmidt’s son.”
“...Mein Gott. Julchen did say she had a son… I knew she wasn’t the type who should be able to take care of a child. I will be there as soon as I can.”
-------------
<This is boring.>
“I know, Lutz. Shut up.”
Lutz did something that resembled a yawn.
“He should be here soon-”
It was then that the door to the police station opened with just enough force to be noticeable without slamming.
Standing there was a dark brown-haired gentleman with a large, curly cowlick, probably in his thirties, most likely affluent from his clothing.
“Excuse me, I hear there was someone waiting for me here?”
Ludwig stood up, and their eyes met.
“Hallo. ...You are Ludwig?”
He adjusted his glasses, then his tie.
“Ja?”
He looked him over.
“Ah, I can see some of the resemblance. Though you’re actually somewhat adorable, unlike her.”
“...Is that an insult against her?”
Realizing his mistake, the man cleared his throat.
“Ah, sorry.”
He outstretched his hand.
“I am Herr Roderich Edelmann. Your mother’s cousin. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard about you, but it is nice being able to see you with my own two eyes.”
Ludwig took the hand, shaking it.
“Ludwig Beilshmidt. Nice to meet you, Sir.”
Then, suddenly, Roderich’s formal facade dropped and he pulled the boy into a hug.
“You’re so precious! You may call me Onkel Roderich! Don’t worry, we will take great care of you!”
Lutz looked on in amusement as Ludwig’s cries of shock became muffled in the man’s chest.
Ludwig was flabbergasted. It had been so long since he had been hugged. He only could relive them in his memories, and they weren’t frequent, but here he was, feeling it yet again, surrounded by warmth; he didn’t know how to process it.
But if there was one emotion he was certain about as the man smoothed his hair and cooed over him, it was that he felt loved.
————-
Ludwig held on tightly as the automobile rocked around them. Roderich didn’t seem to mind it whatsoever, but Ludwig had only heard of an automobile once, and had seen, much less ridden, none. Roderich was happy to make him comfortable next to him though, warning him whenever a bump or “pothole” was coming up.
“But really… What is such a magnificent eagle doing with you? A black Strix no less?”
<Someone called?>
“Black Strix?”
“You don’t know? They’re an exceedingly rare species! And this one is such a beautiful dark coal hue; I’ve always been partial to Black Strixes, they’re said to have a particularly strong mystical power.”
“I didn’t know he could be more special... His name is Lutz.”
“...Lutz? As in…”
“Jawohl.”
Roderich looked puzzled.
“Erm… Mutter named him.”
Roderich huffed.
“Ah, Julchen, of course...”
“He was my last Sancbruma present from her before she died.”
Roderich quieted for a few seconds.
“Oh… I see. We will accommodate him too. Do not worry. ...Also, no need to ‘jawohl’ around me.”
“Jawo… ja.”
—————
Onkel Roderich was a renowned musician; he was a master of many instruments and even knew how to compose, but his main forte was the piano. He was sought after for his talents across the land.
And he had the house to show it as well.
“Welcome to your new home, Ludwig.”
Ludwig took it all in; the house was already larger than average compared to others in town, and as a boy who had grown up in a small log cabin all his life, it seemed especially enormous.
A woman with long, light brown hair came up to them, looking from Roderich to Ludwig.
“Ah, Erzsébet! This is my nephew, Ludwig. He will be staying with us from now on.”
Roderich bent his knees so he was at Ludwig’s level.
“Ludwig, this is Erzsébet, my wife.”
“H… hallo. Nice to meet you, Tante Erzsébet.”
Ludwig outstretched his hand.
The woman merely eyed him for a few seconds.
“Hallo. I guess.”
She said, gruffly, with a distinctly foreign accent.
Roderich sighed.
“Erzsébet, why do you have to be like this?”
“Why do we have to take in this ratty-looking kid?”
Ludwig scowled.
“Hey!”
Roderich held Ludwig closer, glaring at her.
“Erzsébet! He’s a child! Have you no heart?!”
“Fine, fine.”
She shook his hand, roughly.
“But wow, an eagle! A Strix no less?! I didn’t think I’d ever be able to see one!”
Lutz merely yawned.
Ludwig couldn’t help but snicker as an unamused frown crept across Erzsébet’s face.
“...Whatever. Make yourself at home I guess.”
She walked off.
“Prepare the bath and extra room for the boy! Come on now!”
Roderich commanded, and soon after servants bowed and quickly ran upstairs in single file.
“Don’t mind my wife. She wasn’t exactly enthusiastic to hear from you. But she will warm up to you eventually. Though… you are in need of new clothes, aren’t you?”
He gave the boy a once-over, making Ludwig look down to his old, beaten-up and washed out child-sized military uniform.
“Sadly, we do not have any clothes your size as of now. I will have a servant hire the tailor immediately. Meanwhile I will order them to wash what you have now.”
<He’s awfully happy to see you, isn’t he?>
“Ja… he seems like a nice person.”
————
That might, Ludwig had the best dinner he had ever had.
He could only marvel at the dishes in front of him; even those he had heard of before looked so refined. And there was so much of it! The variety of bread available in particular was amazing.
But he couldn’t let himself forget his discipline. Even if it took all his willpower not to start gorging himself on everything like he had been possessed by some demon of gluttony.
“Onkel, what is this?”
“A chocolate torte, you see. A type of cake.”
Ludwig remembered actually having a cake a grand total of once. He still remembered its sweetness so well and it was probably the best thing he ever had eaten. And then there were two other things he had only read about before.
...And Lutz seemed unusually interested in it.
He couldn’t blame him though, it’s aroma was mesmerizing to Ludwig’s senses.
“Chocolate? Is that what the brown is?”
“You have never had chocolate before?! Mein Gott, Julchen, What have you done?”
Ludwig was quick to take a bite, and he froze.
The mellow, deep sweetness melted on his tongue, spreading throughout his mouth in such an indescribably perfect way, a tinge of bitterness within that instead of detracting from the experience, somehow harmonized with the sweetness in such a heavenly way.
“...Ludwig?”
“...It’s amazing.”
Roderich seemed somewhat amused by how floored the boy was.
“Even your mother was quite a fan.”
<Hey, hey. Kid.>
Ludwig was surprised by the unusual agitation in Lutz’s thoughts. He didn’t think he had ever heard anything like it before.
“Lutz? What is-“
<I need it. Now. Don’t ask questions!>
Ludwig almost panicked, giving a piece to the impatient eagle.
“Ludwig!”
“I… erm… It was unfair to have it to myself!”
“...Is chocolate even safe for eagles?”
Erzsébet questioned.
“Wait wha-“
<Don’t worry. ... Ahh, bliss...>
Ludwig smiled nervously.
“He’ll be fine.”
The couple just stared, confused.
“Erm…”
“Trust me! I know him well. ...Can I have more? Please?”
“Absolutely.”
His face absolutely lit up at that, and in the corner of his vision Ludwig saw quite possibly the most genuine expression of joy he had seen from Lutz in all the time he knew him.
“Why’s it that everyone in your family loves chocolate so much?”
Erzsébet asked as her husband took another piece.
“Why don’t you is the better question.”
“...Actually, yup, you two definitely are related. Leave some for me though!”
————
Roderich doted on the boy; he made sure he had the nicest clothes and the nicest food that he could afford.
He had made sure the room was in absolute best condition, that his pillows were always fluffed and bed always made, even if Ludwig insisted he wanted to do it on his own.
He taught him everything about the basics of civilization, how to read more complex sentences, how to play the piano and the violin, even how to dance. He took him with him to work, across the city and sometimes even country to places he had at best read about and to meet so many new people.
His next Sanctbruma and 12th birthday were the most extravagant he had ever had.
Yet…
Yet something was missing.
Despite the man’s kindness, he felt something wasn’t right. Ludwig couldn’t put a finger on what, and he felt awful about it to be sure; he did so much for him, what more could a boy ask for?
But yet…
Sure, Erzsébet never completely warmed up to him; even if she wasn’t as cold to him, according to Lutz she was merely tolerating him. And the same was true for many of the servants.
But that didn’t change the fact that Roderich himself was nothing but loving towards him. Even if he had curfews and other such rules, he never had trouble with rules. His mother raised him to obey rules. And while he was often busy, he still tried his best to spend time with him.
Finally, he actually had someone who resembled a parent after all those years. He should have been thankful.
But he wasn’t doing anything wrong.
Someone had to be doing something wrong.
At times, he still lay awake at night, those lonely days and nights and that fateful Sanctbruma playing back in his mind; as well as the accompanying emotions of pure hatred and wrath.
Once, Roderich has entered the room at an inopportune time to Ludwig curled up in his bed, seething, growling at him to leave him alone.
While he didn’t say anything about it at dinner, it was obvious he was disturbed by it.
“...Lutz. Why can’t I be happy? I still feel alone, but I don’t even know why.”
<Maybe you’ve been alone for too long. You’re past the point of return, kid. Maybe you should come to peace with it.>
“At least I have you.”
<Whatever.>
———
“Ludwig.”
“Ja, Onkel Roderich?”
The man sighed.
“It has been over a year since you started living with us. What is it with your standoffish behavior? Is something wrong? I will listen to it.”
“...I just can’t, Onkel.”
“Excuse me?”
“I… Something just doesn’t feel right. I don’t know why.”
The man looked so disappointed.
“I try my best to make you happy, Ludwig. I really do. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to satisfy your needs.”
“Nein. It isn’t that.”
Roderich shook his head.
“As I was saying… the chords for this piece are…”
—————
Ludwig continued to do his practice drills whenever possible, even if they had taken a different shape; makeshift targets became proper shooting galleries, improvised exercises became possible using an open space between buildings and proper equipment. And as he grew more and more by the day, his physical abilities took leaps and bounds above what he had been capable of before. He just wished he could go more than weekly. At first, Roderich objected, but it didn’t take long for him to cave in.
After all, he had to keep himself in shape, especially as he now had access to all the candy and chocolate that could be plausibly afforded.
After a while, Roderich started to continuously try to ask him to consider other options in this weekly time slot. He was never too forceful, however. And after a while, as Ludwig expressed his clear annoyance, it finally ceased just as it had begun.
There was another episode that irked Ludwig.
One night, as he went to get a glass of water, he had seen Roderich, seemingly sneaking away from his room.
“...Onkel?”
The man bristled as soon as he turned on the lights.
“Erm… Ludwig, I didn’t expect you to be awake..
Then, Ludwig saw it.
In his hands was his mother’s necklace.
“...What are you doing with Mutter’s necklace?”
He immediately stuffed it inside his pocket and turned around, a fake smile on his face.
“What necklace, my dear Ludwig?”
“I know you’re hiding it.”
The man sighed, taking it back out again.
“I… I wanted to put it in a place it will be safer in.”
Ludwig tried not to grill him further, even as he felt something fueled by doubt start to boil within him.
“I’m sure it will be safe with me. It’s been so for all the years I’ve had it. Can I have it back now?”
“...Ja.”
Ludwig swiftly took it back, going down to get his glass. He really needed one.
“You could tell a servant to get it for you?”
“No. I prefer to do it on my own.”
When Ludwig had returned to his room, he had quite the things to say to Lutz.
“Lutz. Why did you let him take it?”
<I was sleepy, kid. Why do you care about that thing so much?>
“It’s from Mutter. You should know. ...Lutz. If anything, protect this with your life.”
<Oh come on now.>
“I’m serious. It’ll be the last thing I ask of you.”
<Alright, alright. Whatever.>
“You aren’t sincere, are you?”
<What do you want from me? Good night.>
——————
One day, as Ludwig overheard some servants speaking to each other in hushed voices, glancing at him every so often.
He was able to catch two things; “...Mister Edelmann” and “barren”.
He wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. But for whatever reason he didn’t like the sound of it.
That night, after some shouting, once again Roderich stormed out of the master bedroom, telling Erzsébet to “Get a hold of yourself already, you indecipherable woman!”, to his own separate room, as Erzsébet shouted some words back that sounded really angry and probably inappropriate.
<There goes the lovely couple.>
Lutz thought, as Ludwig tried to sleep. Lutz, meanwhile, had no trouble.
————
13-year-old Ludwig stood outside of the bar, alongside Lutz, as always, and other members of his gang.
It was in a seedy, rough part of town. And it was where their rival gang frequented most often.
It wasn’t the most well-to-do of bars, to say the least; as soon as they entered, the air smelt pungently of alcohol, and ambiently of various nasties.
<Ergh. What a dump.>
They immediately saw their target; the offending gang’s leader.
Their leader went up to confront her rival, fists clearly ready to fly.
“Hey! We know ya killed him!”
“Who?”
The rival boss said, with a cheeky grin.
“Ya know who!”
The two continued to escalate their argument, until they became close to blows.
“Enough yammerin’! Get ‘em, boys n’ girls!”
Suddenly, they were grabbed by the rival gang bangers, including Ludwig, who held back a yelp, Lutz flying into the air.
“Come back, ya stupid bird!”
“We didn’t kill one of yer ratpack, asshole! Now get out or we’re gonna force ya out!”
“...You better tell us.”
Ludwig said, tersely, utilizing his now lowering voice and copying his mother’s tone.
The rival boss laughed.
“Or what, kid? What are ya gonna do, huh? Man your recruiting standards have gone down!”
His boss smirked.
“Ya better listen to the kid.”
“Or what?”
They laughed uproariously.
“Lutz. Restrain.”
Their laughing instantly stopped, their faces going sheet white, all the other bar patrons, the bartender, and staff turning to gawk.
For they bore witness to the gang boss being pinned down, on the floor, between the talons of a giant, terrifying raptor straight out of hell, its eyes glowing, its beak as sharp as an ice pick, with which it screeched in the unfortunate gangster’s terrified face.
Ludwig walked up to the rival boss with measured steps, the gangsters holding him having let go out of sheer terror, the thumping of his feet the only sounds other than his companion’s breathing and the squeaks and sputtering from bystanders and rival gangsters, and pulled out his old pistol, aiming it at the thug’s head, glaring daggers so sharp that they could gouge eyes out.
Show your enemy no mercy.
Once again, he thought he heard his mother's voice in his ear.
“Tell us the truth.”
The rival boss sputtered, shaking like a leaf, looking awfully smaller than the much younger boy.
“We… we… d-d-di…”
Ludwig cocked his pistol.
“Speak in a real language!”
The rival boss flinched, and the rest of the rival gang huddled, terrified.
“W-we didn’t do anything! I-I swear! I swear!”
Ludwig lowered his pistol slightly.
“...Really?”
“J-ja! I swear! I swear by both the Heavenly and Hellish Yards! P-p-please let me go, Sir!”
“...Alright. Lutz, release.”
The eagle shrank back down to size, returning to his perch on Ludwig’s outstretched arm.
His boss grumbled.
“Whoop. That was pointless. Lud, let’s get outta this dump.”
They turned to leave, the other people in the bar still staring at them.
“W-Wait.”
Ludwig and his boss turned back to the humiliated rival boss.
“We might’ve not killed ‘im. But I-I have a good idea who might’ve.”
———-
“So, Lud. Good job today. We’ve got ourselves a lead.”
“Jawohl.”
Their boss patted Ludwig on the head and gave the group a once-over.
“Ok. You’re all dismissed.”
Ludwig was quick to leave, the others staring after him.
“What’s it with him? I swear, it’s like he doesn’t wanna be associated with us.”
“He said something about a curfew.”
“Really? Kid still follows curfews? What is he, 10?”
-----------------
When Ludwig came back, Roderich was waiting for him.
“Ludwig.”
“Onkel Roderich?”
Roderich’s expression was serious and stern.
“...What have you been doing?”
“What do you mean, Onkel Roderich?”
Roderich held Ludwig’s shoulders.
“Let me state this plainly.”
He took a deep breath.
“You’re involved in gang activity, aren’t you?”
Ludwig was in shock.
“How…”
Roderich shook his head, his hand on his forehead.
“Ludwig. I am sure even Julchen taught you to obey rules.”
“I… I don’t want to depend on you for everything. I feel like a leech.”
Roderich was shocked.
“You’re only 13, Ludwig! It is alright! It isn’t worth putting yourself at risk like this!”
“I don’t know how to do anything else.”
Roderich shook his head.
“Don’t say that. You could deliver newspapers, or use those piano skills I taught you-“
“And they’re my friends.”
“Friends?! I care for you, why do you need them?! Do you even know any of their names?!”
“...”
“You’re going to get into trouble eventually, young man.”
“I… I know!”
Roderich flinched.
Ludwig looked down and stormed back into the house, into his room, throwing himself onto his bed.
“Hmph, teenagers...”
Erzsébet mumbled.
—————-
“Ludwig?”
Roderich opened the door to Ludwig’s room that night, peeking in.
Ludwig couldn’t bare to look him in the eye.
“I’m sorry.”
Roderich sighed.
“Is it because I’m not Julchen?”
The boy felt a pang of guilt.
“I’m sorry! I don’t hate you, I’m thankful for what you’ve done, and-”
“I see. Just try to forget about her, alright?”
Ludwig froze. He felt like someone had stabbed his heart.
“But…”
“I do so much for you. I give you everything. What was it that she had that I don’t? I’ve been a far better parent than that stone-hearted, cruel, cold-”
<Oh no. You’ve done it now.>
“DON’T SAY THAT ABOUT MY MUTTER!”
His voice cracked terribly, but he didn’t care.
Roderich stumbled back, his face pale, horrified.
Silence.
“Ludwig… I’m sorry.”
Ludwig buried his face into his pillows.
“...I’ll tell the servants to bring you dinner. I’m sorry. I really am.”
“Leave me alone!”
“...I’m happy with any path you want to take. Just please stay safe.”
Roderich sighed and closed the door.
From that day on, Roderich started informing Ludwig of where police may find him, and locations of stations across the city. Anything for his safety, he had said.
But from that day on Ludwig knew; he knew that his suspicions were true, that all this time he was trying to make him forget about his mother. He couldn’t let that happen. It was only confirmation when he heard him brutally disparage her one night in a drunken stupor during one of his binge-drinking sessions.
Once again, Ludwig could trust no one.
And once again, wrath simmered within him.
----------------
Their boss summoned Ludwig and the rest of the gang to a gathering; to sort out their clues, they had said.
Ludwig was appreciated for his abilities; but outside of the action, he sat somewhat removed from the rest. He couldn’t connect with them much either.
His mother had despised lawbreakers; “scum”, “rats”, she would call them. If she knew what he was doing now, she would have caned his palms until they were raw and bleeding. She would have told him he was better than this. He never would have imagined he could stoop this low too. After all, he was his mother’s only son. He should have been destined for greatness.
Quite honestly, he didn’t fully understand what he was doing here either. How did he even get here? Was it just a business affair? Were they really his friends?
Maybe it was because this was the closest thing to military service he could find. Even if it were on the other side of the law.
A girl a year or so older than him, the second youngest in the gang, came up to him attempting to speak to him. Ludwig hesitated, but in the end continued to be fascinated with the clues they had and Lutz.
“Hey give up on Herr Stick-In-The-Mud already! Bet he’s never even kissed a girl!”
A gangster said, using the nickname they often used when ribbing him.
“What’s with him? He to good for us?” One of them muttered when Ludwig refused a drink.
“Ja. Imagine being one of us and caring about drinking ages. Never can understand Herr Stick-In-The-Mud.”
“Ja. Where was he raised, His Majesty’s Elite Imperial Barracks?”
“Hey, hey, did you hear that Boss might have the hots for him too?”
“Why don’t you fuckwits shut the fuck up?” Their boss barked at the last one. “The kid’s basically an infant!”
<You’re the most rule-bound gangster I’ve ever seen.>
“Why do they treat it as a bad thing?”
<You’re the one who joined a street gang, genius. They’ve got different rules.>
Ludwig looked at the bottle of cheap moonshine he had been offered again, sighed, and took a gulp.
He immediately gagged.
The last time he’d had booze was when Roderich had allowed him to try beer, and even then he had basically diluted half of it with water and it definitely didn’t taste like... whatever this bottle of horse urine was.
“Ack! This is awful! ...I did it, are you happy now?”
“That’s the spirit!”
“Doesn’t count! He gagged!”
Ludwig took a deep breath.
“Let’s get back on topic. We are discussing the murder of a fellow comrade. This is no time for inane chatter.”
Finally, the air became solemn.
“Ja, reasonable, I guess…”
“Now, onto the information Scout 2 gathered...”
—————-
Ludwig, more than anything, considered himself a logical person.
He and his mother both despised vagueness. It seemed pointless, really, all the dancing around the true meaning of your words in the name of “politeness”. While apparently many in this part of the continent were considered similarly blunt and practical, it seemed even then he was exceptional.
So his own emotional turmoil, how he could never seem to explain himself, frustrated him more than anyone else. It angered him.
But one thing he knew for sure was that he looked forward to stopping by the library on the way home. Thank goodness Roderich had taught him to read to a level more appropriate for his age; it was difficult at first, but he was also fortunately a fast learner.
He always had taken a fascination with the sciences. They were at first glance unpredictable, but once broken down and observed, logical. They made sense, they were rational. Recently, he started finding them more investing than fiction, in fact. And his new reading skills finally made the higher levels of it beyond simplistic drawings attempting to explain the laws of physics and magic accessible.
Which was why today he sat outside the library in his usual spot, looking through a medical encyclopedia, munching on one of many bars of dark chocolate and a small loaf of bread.
Lutz nibbled on pieces of chocolate Ludwig had given him, peeking from above him.
“HERS?”
<Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome.>
Ludwig looked to Lutz in shock.
<A rare genetic, psychiatric disorder with no known cause. Those afflicted by Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome, a Hereditary Evil Raiser, or HER, is said to be at their core an incarnation of malice, "programmed" to destroy the gods, everything they created and everything related to them. Therefore, as a natural prerequisite, they typically show extreme cruelty and having the compulsion to increase their own kind and ensure the continuation of their "mission" to spread malice by any means necessary, taking immense pleasure in doing so. Currently there is no known cure, though in high-functioning individuals it may be managed, and manifest in lesser ways.>
“How…”
<I have my ways.>
He flew off, now by his side.
“Though… Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome? Who names this stuff?”
<Hey. They probably had their reasons.>
“Why do you care? Did you come up with it?”
<Maybe. Plus, that’s rich coming from the kid who literally named me “Blackie”.>
Ludwig sighed.
“I... Fine. And wait... are you reading with me?”
<Yeah, I can read. I never told you?>
Ludwig continued to stare at him.
“I... I just didn’t think you would...”
<Turn the page already. I already know this.>
"Maybe you could try reading a novel, Lutz?”
<Don’t care. Why should I care about what you flesh-apes think, much less fake ones? No one in the world knows what I’m thinking anyway.>
Ludwig closed the encyclopedia.
“You mean you feel that no one understands you, right?”
Lutz stared at him.
His words struck him like a spark of lightning.
“That makes two of us”
An awkward few moments passed. For once in his life, Lutz had nothing to retort back.
Why was he so shocked?
Ludwig blinked, confused.
“Lutz? What’s wrong?”
<...Nothing.>
Lutz didn’t know what he had just felt.
“That makes two of us”
It should have meant nothing, coming from this brat.
But yet...
Whatever. It probably still meant nothing.
-------------------------
“We’ve got our guy! Rich bastard’s not gonna know what hit ‘im.”
Their boss said, confidently, gesturing to an assassin she had bought into their abandoned factory hideout.
The assassin looked across the crowd of gangsters.
“So. Which one of you brats wants to come?”
“Actually, we’ve got a good clue already for who’s gonna be a good fit for this mission.”
Ludwig waited, anxiously. He would gladly take the job of avenging his fallen comrade, of course.
“Ludwig!”
Ludwig stood to attention.
“...You’ll be providing nice clothes for us to blend in!”
Ludwig was speechless.
“How… Why?”
<Turns out you aren’t as tough as you thought. Better luck next time, kid.>
But when all had left, he went up to his boss. He needed answers.
“Why am I excluded?”
She looked at him as if he was stupid.
“I don’t think ‘Giant Enemy Bird’ is a viable weapon to use on a cruise ship.”
“But… I can shoot well too! You said I was a great marksman!”
“You’re good. Gotta say that. Still, don’t know about your skills in stealth yet. Can’t risk it. Now, see ya.”
Then, she abruptly cut him off and left.
-----------------
Three days later, Ludwig and the rest of the gang not chosen for the plot awaited at the dock.
Soon, they spotted the assassination party, coming towards them.
One person was clearly missing.
“Hey! Boss! ...Boss? And where’s...”
Her face was dire.
“Shot dead. ...He spotted us. He saw all our faces. All of you are fucked. We’re all fucked.”
More silence.
“...WHAT?!”
Silence immediately gave way to panic.
Ludwig stood, frozen.
“How… Why…”
He clutched his head, overwhelmed.
“But it can’t…”
Emotions swirled inside the boy, overpowering all of his senses, all of his thoughts.
What was going to happen to him? His friends?
“No, no, no, nonononononono…”
<You know what to do, kid.>
Suddenly, he bolted.
Along the harbor, he ran.
Then, in a burst of emotion and without much thought, as if on instinct, he acted immediately as Lutz took off high into the sky, preparing to dive.
“SIC ‘EM, LUTZ!”
He didn’t even bother with the telepathy.
Everyone could only look on in shock and horror as monstrous, pitch-black wings appeared in the sky, seemingly not completely solid and with a godlike glow; to those who were watching from afar, it would have looked as if a demon raptor had materialized out of thin air.
The ship was no match. Before anyone could fully comprehend what was going on, the ship was swooped up into the talons of the avian monstrosity, and crushed into pieces, every single person on it with it.
----------------
Ludwig walked back to the gang, who all stood staring at him, utterly horrified.
Finally, someone broke the silence.
“...Holy shit.”
Another turned to him, their eyes wide.
“...Lud? Did you just…”.
The boy’s mind was blank. What could he even say?
He had killed all of them. Every single one of them.
But in the end...
“Mission accomplished…?”
“Am I trippin’?”
“Did we just witness a massacre?”
“...What the fuck?”
Ludwig took a deep breath.
“But we accomplished our mission. ...I did what I had to do.”
“Ja, but… Holy shit.”
“In anyway…”
Their boss cleared her throat.
“Let’s… Let’s go with this loot before the cops find out.”
The rest could only muster a “Ja” in unison.
Lutz flew up to Ludwig, as unbothered as always.
“Lutz…”
<Just did as I was told. Don’t complain to me. Here.>
In the raptor’s talons was a doll; an eerily faceless, unusual, porcelain-ish doll of indeterminable gender.
<Here. I brought a present.>
“What is…”
<Have it. Since I can’t give you Sancbruma presents, here it is, months early.>
“It’s… it’s probably from a dead child, Lutz!”
<Don’t be ungrateful. Oh, and your buddies are waiting. You should go.>
“...Ja. I did what I had to do. We killed him. That’s all that should matter…”
————-
The news of the shipwreck was all over the radio. They had listened to it in their hideout, huddled around the device.
“The perpetrator is currently unknown. However, many claim to have heard the voice of a boy or young man scream for the bird to attack…”
————-
When Ludwig came home, Roderich was standing in front of the door, in shock.
“Ludwig…”
“Onkel?”
“...It was you wasn’t it?”
Ludwig looked down to his feet.
“Lutz, specifically…”
<Hey.>
Roderich pulled him into a protective embrace.
“You could have put yourself in so much danger! What if the police find out about you?! Don’t you dare do that again.”
"...”
Roderich pulled him in.
“Now, come in before someone recognizes you.”
—————
Roderich rarely ever let him join the rest of the gang since that day; it was too dangerous, he had said.
He went out mostly in a dark hood for a disguise, at times without Lutz, for over the radio, one expert had identified the terror bird as “a black Strix transformed with powerful magic.”
Later that year, a month before Sancbruma and two months before his 14th birthday, he had heard something unusual.
<Ludwig… Ludwig…>
“Huh?”
Telepathy. But Lutz wasn’t with him; it came from the doll in his bag.
Ever since that fateful day, Lutz had told him to carry it for some vague reason he couldn’t understand; his alleged simple explanation was “It’s amusing to see you carry around a girly doll like that.”
<Ludwig...>
He took the bag off his back and looked in.
<Someone is after you. You have been found out. You must run.>
“What?! How do you…”
<Do not ask. Please, please run… you must.>
He slung it back over his shoulder.
“Lutz!”
He had to get Lutz. Now.
But by the time he had gotten home, it was too late.
“No, Sir, he is not here. You will not find him here…”
“There he is!”
Two figures stood with Roderich; two figures he didn’t recognize.
A tanned, hazel-eyed, otherwise unassuming man with his hair tied back and in a partially unbuttoned shirt, probably from the south of the continent, turned his attention away from Roderich, and pointed at Ludwig, gun in hand.
“Ludwig Beildshmidt! You’re under arrest!”
Ludwig’s eyes widened. Emotions and stress once again blitzed through him.
“Lutz! Restrain! ...Lutz? Lutz?!”
His eyes darted next to the man to the other figure, what Ludwig thought to be a long-haired, somewhat tall foreign woman in eastern attire, her dark, raven hair pulled back into a ponytail; seemingly holding Lutz back without touching the bird, but clearly struggling.
“Hurry!”
She shouted, in a foreign accent Ludwig didn’t recognize.
Ludwig bolted.
“Don’t you dare, you-“
“Herr Edelmann! Stop, you’re interfering with police procedure!”
“Don’t touch him!”
The mysterious man finally shoved the other man off him and gave chase, but Roderich grappling with him had given him some extra time...
“Ludwig! RUN! RUN!”
But before Ludwig could escape, all of a sudden he was blindsided by a third person, jumping on his back and pinning him down, the boy’s small body no match for the adult.
“LUDWIG!”
“Let me go, LET ME GO!”
That was the last thing he remembered saying before he had been slammed on the back of the head.
Ludwig blacked out.
To be continued in part 2...
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Author’s notes:
So I had to split this thing in half since it became much longer than I expected. Wow this is a monster. You will see the parts listed here after I write them. Parts, because this will have two different routes! Hopefully! Then again it seems like no one read this...
Also, the scene with the sea is even more ambiguous “canon” in this already ambiguously “canon” story, but I wanted to write it in because I liked it, having seen the idea that Prussia has some kind of connection to the sea before and liking it. I wish I could find it now. I think Alt-Prussia would have grown up with the sea when he was younger, and while he would stay very strictly a land fighter (in fact the Prussian navy was never all that good, being mostly a merchant fleet. Even the German navy, while it did go through a growth period in the 1880s in competition with Britain I believe, by WWII at least their Kriegsmarine kind of sucked. It’s why the invasion of Britain never happened, their navy would have been laughably curbstomped), and I still associate England, Netherlands, or Portugal way more with the ocean, maybe the North Sea has some kind of soothing effect on him.
Also adorable child!Germany is adorable. Why do I love this kid so much? Why is he so damn cute?!
(This is an alternate version of “Key to Zorn!”. You may read either version, as the differences are mostly superficial, but I thought this version may be more fitting considering how I write Alt-Germany)
[Summary: Crossover with the Wrath arc of the Evillious Chronicles. Everyone is searching for their very own Happy Ending... But where is his, if it exists at all?
Young Ludwig Beilshmidt lives alone in a cabin, waiting for the return of his mother. But one winter morning, a certain, seemingly chance encounter, changes his life forever, leading his life to become increasingly entangled with much larger plans...]
(Yes, lame summary, but I didn’t know how to write it without spoilers. The same text as the original is copy-pasted below)
Couldn’t come up with a better title.
Okay… so… holy hell.
This is the longest fic I’ve ever written. And it isn’t even finished.
I thought “Superbia” was long. But… I outdid myself. Over FORTY FREAKIN’ PAGES IN GOOGLE DOCS. And again, this is not finished, I’m splitting it so I at least have the hope of releasing something! With two routes! This is a novel, folks!
I’m probably going to repost this for the Christmas event since I want as much people to see them as possible. Because there are some Christmas elements here. So yeah, you can take this as an early Christmas fic too.
This will be a movie, folks. Grab a seat and some popcorn.
Also, look, it’s goddamn Ludwig torment again! For the fourth time in the span of a month! And this might just be the most elaborate way I’ve tormented the poor guy yet. But I didn’t really have many options.
So I wanted to enter Mirror Week, but in the main canons write in, Alt-talia and Hetalia Emblem, I haven’t come up with any use for 2Ps, and in the former case I can’t see how I could use them.
However, there was one Alt-talia spin-off AU I had been thinking they would exist on; I didn’t know whether I wanted to release media to it so early, and due to a reason I will explain in a moment, I was reluctant to release media about it in general. But… I went with it.
This is my Evillious Chronicles AU. Yes, an AU of an AU. What about that.
Basically, the Evillious Chronicles is what started as a series of Vocaloid songs telling a much larger story; it has since ballooned into a vast, tangled network of light novels and other such media. It’s as confusing as it sounds. Some of you may have heard of the songs “Daughter of Evil” and “Servant of Evil”; those were the first songs to be released in that series. Those two songs weren’t self-contained, oh no.
The thing is, for this AU I wanted to write just based on the seven sin songs (and Servant of Evil), with accompanying Hetaloid covers, and leave the rest of the story up to the audience. I’m still planning on that. However, I still wanted to enter the event, so here I am presenting a version of events for one of the arcs; however, it is merely the route that hews closest to Evillious canon from what I can gather of it. So yeah, NONE OF THIS IS HARD CANON. Especially since I wasn’t sure on the roles of some characters here.
Also, if I somehow ever get to publishing my main Evillious x Hetalia fics sometime in the future; first of all, hi. But more importantly, please, I implore you, do not read this before reading The Muzzle of Ludwig. Especially the second half. I tried to avoid spoilers, but someone becomes extremely obvious with contextual clues.
Also… it’s not like I wanted to write Ludwig torment again. But he was basically my only option, since he was the only one whose sin most likely overlaps with… well, it’ll become clear as this goes on. Ludwig’s story here is based on Nemesis Sudou’s story. Though since Nemesis and Ludwig are vastly different characters, there may be some plot holes, unfortunately.
And THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT: for those who have read none of my other works yet, Alt-talia has often vastly, vastly different characterizations. I based most of these characterizations off of their late 19th century to very early 20th century personalities in Alt-talia. Special OOC warning for the following characters: Austria, Hungary, and Prussia. Minor OOC warning for Germany. I used @askimperialludwig ‘s version of the character as a reference, along with my personal perception and research. may add more later.
Also, credit to my friend @tomboyjessie13 , my Evillious consultant, for helping me through this!
I can’t let this be too long, since the fic is long already. Let’s go!
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(Also... people who read my fics, please reblog them. I work hard on them, and want many to see them!)
And since I forgot to add this above the cut; this canon is also one of the few times Nyotalia characters canonically exist as their own entity in my works, if not the only one so far. It’s kind of necessary, since otherwise it’ll turn into a complete sausagefest. However, as I have no set personality for them in main Alt-talia canon, I basically write them the same way as I would their male counterparts, with maybe some minor changes. I do have some ideas for Nyotalia characters in “what if” stories for main Alt-talia canon, but since this would be an Alt-talia spinoff, most of my theoretical audience would be there for the Alt-talia characters who appear in most Alt-talia media. Not to mention male stereotypes for countries are usually more fun anyway. However, in this universe two counterparts of the same character can co-exist. I try to avoid that though.
Also, a character named “Arendt” is briefly mentioned; this is Brandenburg. He isn’t really that important though, and really I’ve barely fleshed him out, so that’s all you need to know.
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The Key To Zorn
Part one: And Then The Boy Went Mad
In a certain continent, there was a forest.
A serene, peaceful forest, where inside one could almost feel mystical energy in the clear, unpolluted air.
Until, under the evening sky, a gunshot sounded.
Ludwig Beilschmidt, a boy of merely 8 with innocent, cornflower blue eyes, ran through the forest he knew so well, a basket of wild berries and herbs in his arms and a small sack over his back.
Soon, in his view, among the trees and wild cornflowers was the only place he had known all his life, the little wooden cottage he called home.
The boy immediately checked his old, somewhat rusted mailbox, a look of anxiousness on his face - one which immediately turned to disappointment upon finding there was nothing there.
He sighed.
“Nothing today either...”
He reached up somewhat, twisting the doorknob and opening the wooden door.
“I’m home!”
No one answered back.
As per usual.
He didn’t expect one anyway.
Ludwig went to the dining table, setting the basket and sack, as well as his small, old-model pistol, down on his side of the table. Inside the sack was a small rabbit; the poor little thing. He hoped it didn’t struggle for long after he had shot it.
He prepared dinner as he always did, the bubbling as the ingredients stewed the only sounds other than the cries of the wildlife outside.
And he ate in silence by the light of the lamp, staring at the empty, vacant other side of the table, the light of the sun dim and faint.
“Mutter, is it good?”
Nothing.
Ludwig sighed again, going back to shoving the stew into his mouth.
——-
Ludwig tucked himself into bed after a bath and a change of clothes, now in his old, almost too small pajamas, having finished the book in his hands an hour ago - while he had reread it and others several times already, it was a window into a world different from his, where friends supported each other and families told stories in front of the fire - but now that it was over, here he was, once again, stuck in loneliness, on his own, within the cold, dark walls of a small cabin.
Once again, it was quiet. All too quiet; except for the sounds of the forest.
Now as he had nothing to distract him, every rustling of the underbrush, every animal cry made him bristle. The forest was his comfort by day, almost a second mother, but by night, it was dark, feral.
He pulled his blankets up to his face, curling up, shaking like a leaf. He felt any moment, a beast could break through the walls and tear him to shreds.
He missed his mother so much, oh how he missed her. Her harsh but protective voice, her calloused hands squeezing his wrists. He missed his onkel Arendt, who told him stories of the battles he and Mutter had been through.
She’s dead. She’s dead, accept it.
No, no she wasn’t.
She couldn’t be. She had to be alive.
She was too strong to die.
She would come back. She always came back.
His mother wouldn’t want to see him like this anyway. He was being pathetic.
“Einz, zwei, drei...”
He took a deep breath. He was stronger than this.
Imagining his mother was standing by his bed, staring at him with disapproval at his fearful behavior, finally his shivering started to lessen ever so slightly.
He needed to make it so that when she came home with another medal shining on her chest, she could come home to a son she could be proud of, after all.
“Good night.”
He said to no one in particular, as he let the faint moonlight be his comfort, finally closing his eyes.
Lu li la la lu li la la la...
A soothing, calming melody played in his mind; Ludwig didn’t know where he knew it from, but as it surrounded him in soft, almost familiar gentleness, the shivering stopped, his muscles loosened, and he was finally lured into the welcome embrace of sleep.
Lu li la la lu li la la la…
Lu li la la lu li la la la...
———-
“FIRE!”
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Birds flew away in massive numbers, disturbed by the sudden noise.
Ludwig blew the steam off his pistol, seeing that the bullets had all landed near-target. Almost there.
Not bothered by the recoil anymore, he lined up the shot again, swearing he would get it right this time.
Every two days he did this, before 10 sets of running, marching, and every parallel bar routine; this wasn’t how most children his age passed their time, willingly anyway, if the books he read were any indication, and surely he felt sorry for the animals who had to hear such things, as they were the closest things to friends he had. But it broke the silence.
And most of all, he could almost sense his mother beside him during these practice drills; he could feel her hands on his arms guiding him in his aim, and hear her voice shouting in tandem with him as he shouted “FIRE!”. In fact, sometimes he swore she actually was there, by his side.
He took a deep breath and aimed again.
“FIRE!”
-----------------------
When he came home, he once again saw a basket of supplies.
They always puzzled him. They came at such random, unpredictable intervals, filled with food, a few bottles of milk, several cartridges of bullets, and even occasionally a book, toy, bar of soap, or other extra, but by the time he found them no one was ever there.
He should be grateful. Though he wished someone would explain to him.
Oh well.
-----------------------------
Days passed, then months.
Once again, on the night of his 9th birthday, Ludwig laid alone, the weak moonlight unable to brighten his gradually deepening pit of despair.
The silence was maddening. He craved for any touch, for any warmth of another person, for anything. But even that simple wish was too much to ask.
He bunched up the worn blanket, the cold, frigid winter air seeping into the cabin.
Every day, he wondered if he was slowly going mad.
Holding a cornflower and his mother’s black cross necklace to his chest, looked out into the moon, to the night sky peeking from a clearing in the trees.
A star shot through the night sky, and Ludwig was quick to make his wish.
I hope Mutter will answer my letters soon.
She had always told him that believing in such things was foolish.
But what was the pain in hanging onto the little light he could find?
-------------------
Now’s your time.
Alright. I’m going in. See you.
------------------
One cold, chilling day, towards the final days of the year he turned 9, Ludwig stepped outside to check his mailbox again.
Snow lightly dusted the ground, softly landing on his old, worn coat.
He had checked his homemade calendar; Sancbruma. Such a lovely holiday. But now, just yet another cold, freezing, lonely day. Oh well. He had known Pater Natalis wasn’t real for years to need confirmation.
But this day, after creaking the old thing open, he found something.
His heart almost stopped.
Immediately, he ripped the envelope often, his heart pounding in his ears, his breath quickening, and he immediately glued his focus to the words, written specially to be understandable to a child.
Ludwig Beilshmidt, we are sorry to inform you that…
Time seemed to stop. He swore his heart stopped.
Dread shot through his body like lightning.
He read on, clinging onto the little hope that still remained with him all those years as they escaped from him, flying away as he fell deeper.
…
…
Tears fell from his face.
She was gone.
She was really gone.
Finally, suppressed despair replaced dread, filling every corner of his mind and body, every nerve, every muscle.
But mixed with it, and eventually almost overpowering it in the concoction of emotion, was wrath.
Pure, unbridled wrath.
He tore the paper and screamed, his screams piercing the serene forest air.
Tears fell from his eyes like a burst dam as he cried into his hands, cursing whoever had killed her, her fate, the cruelty of the gods.
If only he could get his hands on whatever bastard killed her, he would strangle them, he would gouge out their eyes, he would shoot them in the leg and watch them bleed to death, how dare they take his mother away!
He had always been told the best came to those who were patient.
He was proven wrong that day.
All those years, waiting, hoping, hoping for nothing.
Nothing.
His mother was never going to come back. Ever.
Grief, anger, and sadness gripped his small frame as he shook, on the ground, his young brain besieged with intense emotions and reality, dreaded, painful reality.
Don’t cry. How pathetic. Is that how I raised you?
Ludwig forced himself to take deep breaths, desperately fighting his tears and holding back the flow of the concoction of emotions any further.
No, his mother wouldn’t want to see him like this. He couldn’t let her be honored like this.
“Einz, zwei, drei, einz, zwei, drei...”
He took a breath with every word, forcing his emotions back and attempting to lock them away, until finally once again he could think somewhat coherently.
It was here he noticed something perched on the mailbox.
An eagle.
A medium-large eagle with pointy, perky ears and snout; a magnificent, beautiful coal-black Fernirhund, its bright, intelligent eyes a rare violet.
He didn’t notice it before in his panic, but now the dominant emotion in his mind was confusion.
As he sniffled, the eagle nudged him again with its nose, looking up at him with its soulful eyes.
“...A eagle?”
The eagle stared at him back.
Ludwig’s mind immediately jumped back to the beginning of the year.
I hope Mutter will answer my letters soon.
“Are… are you from my Mutter?”
Silence.
Immediately, he embraced the eagle, making it yelp, crying into its fur.
“It’s adorable! I love it Mutter! Thank you!”
It let him cry into its fur, as the boy’s short arms wrapped around it in the first living thing it had embraced, nay, touched, in years.
He was actually holding something living. Oh, it had been so long. Oh so long.
He had almost forgotten what it felt like to hold life in his arms, to feel its warmth, to feel its gentle rising and falling, to hear the subtle sounds of another’s breath in his ears.
For the first time in years, despite the unforgiving cold of the winter morning air, warmth reached Ludwig’s heart, happiness brewing with and overpowering now subdued despair and rage.
<Sure… Whatever makes you happy, kid.>
------------------------------------------
“Oy vey… I was too late again.
...This world is fucked.”
-------------------------------------
Ludwig put a saucer of stew in front of the eagle, which surely enough it soon started lapping up.
“It’s good right? What should I call you… I’ll have to give you a name.”
He stared at the eagle, deep in thought.
“Oh, I know… Schwarzchen!”
The eagle looked at him.
“You like it? Then Schwarzchen it is!”
<...I didn’t say anything. ’Blackie’? You cannot be serious.>
--------------------
That night was different from usual.
Ludwig nestled his head in Schwarzchen’s fur, holding onto him like a stuffed animal, running his fingers through his soft coat. It had seemed reluctant at first, clearly not used to such close contact but as Ludwig begged it to stay, as if it understood him, it decided to stay with him.
The eagle’s breathing neutralized the deafening silence he had gotten so used to, its warmth protecting his small body from the frosty air.
It was like heaven.
Oh, he almost forgot something.
He took his mother’s necklace from his bedside table, putting it around the eagle’s neck like a collar.
“There. Perfect. It suits you.”
He barked.
“Good night, Schwarzchen.”
That night, sleep came to Ludwig easier than usual, as he was surrounded by his new companion’s soft breathing and warm fur.
----------
“Hallo. Kid. Wake up.”
Ludwig awoke, his eyes fluttering open.
Once his eyes focused, he almost yelped in shock.
He was somewhere he didn’t recognize, some formless void; Schwarzchen was nowhere to be seen, nor were the walls of his cabin or even his forest, all that remained was his bed.
In front of him was a man clad in what seemed to be a long white lab coat and some type of mantle, or at least Ludwig assumed, his clothing style almost resembling that in illustrations in one of his novels, ostensibly chronicling ancient legends; but not just any man.
A man who looked almost exactly like how one would imagine Ludwig would look like when he was older, save for his unnatural purple, almost magenta eyes that shined with a calculating glint, a scar under his left.
“H… hallo?”
“Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you.”
“I… Who are you?”
The man smiled at him softly; despite his harsh features, it calmed some of Ludwig’s nerves, just a little.
“That isn’t important. But you’re lonely, right? And it’s causing you pain, yes?”
His voice was deep; much lower than Arendt’s, the only other reference he had for an adult man, surprising Ludwig a bit.
The boy nodded.
The man dug into one of his pockets, taking out a key.
“Here. I’ll be your friend; all you have to do is take the other end of this key, and you won’t feel any of that loneliness and pain any more…”
Tentatively, Ludwig took it.
The boy gasped as he suddenly felt something overwhelming and indescribable other than energy blitz between him and the strange man through the key; it was painless, in fact almost manic energy, bright lights flashing in his vision.
Ludwig woke up.
The boy laid there, his eyes wide, his mind mulling over what he had just seen.
“A dream… it was a dream… Who was that man?”
He turned, and there Schwarzchen was.
“Never mind… Good morning, Schwarzchen.”
<Are you really going with that name?>
Ludwig blinked.
“...Did you just…”
<I thought children were supposed to be creative?>
Ludwig’s eyes widened. He held his head; it seemed to be coming from within his head, like a thought, instead of from his ears.
“...Schwarzchen? Is that you?”
<Yes, this is the eagle. And I have a name.>
Ludwig took a few seconds to process the information.
“...What? ...Mein Gott, I’ve really gone crazy…”
<No. This is real. I’m speaking to you through something called telepathy. Speaking to you through your mind. I could explain all the intricate details but it would probably short-circuit your child brain.>
“I know what it is. But it’s just like in the stories! Wow! I didn’t know they really happened!”
<Well you could say that.>
Ludwig sat up on the side of his bed.
“You keep insulting my naming sense. So what is your name?”
“Schwarzchen” looked him directly in the eyes.
<Well, well, it’s the same as yours, funnily enough. Ludwig.>
“We have the same name? What a coincidence.”
<But I know that is confusing. Just call me Lutz. That is what everyone calls me.>
“Alright… Lutz it is. ...I liked ‘Schwarzchen’ though.”
<...Whatever, kid.>
---------------------------
Like that, Ludwig and Lutz became friends.
His 10th birthday had been the best birthday he had in years, even if it was just the two of them.
Over time, Lutz taught the boy how to use telepathy; and without him saying a word, he became a third hand to him.
...Sometimes. Other times, the eagle merely yawned, telling him to “Do it on his own.”
Ludwig wondered if all eagles were like this. But even then, he didn’t mind. Even if Lutz was a cold, snarky jerk sometimes, it didn’t matter.
Every day, they ate together, went hunting together, bathed together, and at the end of the day slept together.
He could almost forget his loneliness, and the fact that his mother would never return.
Almost.
——————
As Ludwig braced himself on his bed, he once again counted his breaths.
The wrath he felt that day; it was coming back. From within, it seemed to spread to his entire body, to the point it was unbearable.
He would never forget that pain. He couldn’t. But mindless rage was for the foolish.
He wouldn’t forget. But he would remember, silently.
When he looked to Lutz, Lutz didn’t seem afraid at all. He merely stared at him with those violet eyes.
Ludwig embraced Lutz, not letting go.
-----------------
Lutz stared at the young boy as he slept, his chest rising and falling.
<How cute.>
It was easy.
A bit too easy.
What did he expect from a child though.
<Still, would have liked a bit more of a challenge.
Oh well. Sleep tight, kid.
...Though why do you have to use me as a pillow?>
--------------------
Over the next year, Ludwig grew. Now on the cusp of puberty, he became stronger, he could run faster and further, and he could shoot with more and more accuracy.
On the morning of his 11th birthday, Lutz presented him with a query.
<Kid.>
“Huh? What is it, Lutz?”
<Now that you know that your mother isn’t coming home…>
Ludwig froze.
<Don’t cry on me.>
“I wasn’t going to”
<Yes, yes. In anyway, since you know you mother isn’t coming home, what’s the point staying in this place anymore?>
The boy pondered it.
<I’m a eagle and even I think it’s pointless waiting for someone if they’re clearly dead. Well maybe I’m not the one to talk here.>
He was right.
“But… This is all I have ever known.”
<Don’t worry about it. You’re smart. I think. You should find out what to do soon enough.>
“...Jawohl. I don’t know what my purpose is being here forever too… It’s not like this place will disappear either. And it’s not what Mutter would want me to do. ...We’re leaving tonight.”
————-
Ludwig opened his drawer.
There it was; the notice he had torn up all those years ago.
Why did he still have it?
Just so he would never forget, probably.
Ludwig sealed the notice into a pouch before the rage became too much to bear, stuffing it into his bag, going to fetch his clothing. He had a sailor suit saved up for “special occasions”; he hoped he hadn’t outgrown it already.
--------------
Ludwig looked behind his back one last time to the small cabin, the cornflowers, the trees he had known for his entire 11 years of living.
It felt so odd to know he would be away from it.
He quickly ran back, Lutz grumbling behind him, and picked a few flowers, pressing them between the pages of a book.
<Are you done now?>
“Jawohl. Coming, coming!”
-----------
When Ludwig entered the capital, the little truly important belongings he had on his and Lutz’s backs, he was in awe.
It bustled with energy, with people, rickety, clanking automobiles and trolleys spewing steam or smoke that made him cough if he went to close, radio commercials resounding through the air, as well as delicious smells the likes of which he hadn’t known in years, some never before, but mixed in with the inexplicable smell of whatever was coming out of the automobiles.
Ludwig wasn’t quite sure whether he liked it or disliked it, but most accurately he would describe it as a strange mix of the two; but more than anything, everything was so new.
He marveled at the sight of a trolley passing by, when he heard honking behind him.
“Get out of the way brat!”
Ludwig stepped back, hopping back to the sidewalk, and an automobile clunked on, its driver looking at him irritated.
But its movements fascinated him, how the machine seemed to move magically, how it seemed to have a life of its own.
“...Where should I even start?”
<Well? Do you have any relatives?>
“Not that I know of.”
Lutz pointed in the direction of some other children, in a way much like how a pointer or setter eagle would.
<You could try living on the streets like them for a few days. See where it gets you.>
“...Oh.”
Ludwig sighed. He may as well.
————-
“Shoo! Shoo!”
“No money? We aren’t a charity, sorry.”
“Outta the way!”
————-
Ludwig slept in an alley that night, huddled in his old blanket, snuggling against Lutz, who had gotten used to the close contact years ago.
He was so tired. He just remembered he hadn’t slept for an entire day, and it was finally catching up to him.
He had gotten some attention due to being cleaner-looking than the rest, though Lutz was far more charming in their eyes. But more often than not, the overwhelming message in the air was clear; he wasn’t welcome here.
“Lutz?”
Lutz looked up.
<What is it, kid?>
“Why didn’t you tell me I needed money for everything?”
<Didn’t you read about it?>
“I didn’t know it was this necessary.”
<I can’t hold your hand all the time.>
“...Lutz?”
<...What now?>
“There’s so many people here. But I still feel so alone.”
<Well at least you got some to get through the night. Don’t be choosy.>
“Jawohl… Good night.”
————
Seeing no reason not to, Ludwig had decided to explore the city a bit more the next morning, after having helped himself and Lutz to a piece of bread and some beef jerky he had bought, plus the miscellaneous items he had been given the day before.
After a long while of walking, taking in the different sights, from the historical landmarks and building to new projects, some even in the midst of being built, neatly separated or together, working in at times harmonious and at times chaotic tandem. Every so often he saw stray animals run about. After some time he started to see schoolchildren, some about his age, run to school with their friends, adults dressed in suits on their way to work.
Until, Ludwig started to feel the air change.
It felt somewhat... sticky? The breeze seemed stronger. And inexplicably salty.
For he had reached the city harbor. Birds, they were called seagulls he believed, cawed above. Fishermen had far since left the dock, and in the distance, trade ships were being loaded to go who knows where. And they were floating on a vast, open field of water, water, nothing but water.
“Lutz... is this...”
<The ocean? What, you don’t even know what the ocean is?>
He had heard his mother’s stories about the ocean; while she had never been a woman of the seas per se, she was in the army, not the navy after all, he had heard her describe growing up near it. It was odd thinking that she, too, had been a child once like him.
This ocean was to her like the forest was to him, quite possibly.
She had also spoken about a rumor; a rumor that a wish put into a bottle and cast into the sea would, eventually, be granted. She had dismissed it as childish of course. And she did say that she much preferred the land after growing up.
Though according to Onkel Arendt, she would at times, despite this, just go to her childhood home, staring out into the eternal ocean.
He wondered what she had thought as her red eyes stared out into the distant horizon, the salty breeze flowing through her silver-white hair.
It was strange, imagining his mother like that. The sea was so free, almost careless; the complete opposite of her. But maybe that was exactly what drew her to it.
Ludwig started running along the dock, letting Lutz chase him, the briny wind rushing past him and through his hair. People had started to come to swim, and the city was starting to fully come to life.
Even if life was hard, at least he had some way of entertaining himself when everything was so brand new.
--------------
One day, a duo of teenagers spotted Ludwig.
And being the thugs they were, Ludwig suddenly found himself in confrontation with two kids much larger, older, and stronger than he; even if Ludwig was tougher than most 11-year-olds, these two seemed to be about 14 at least, if not, and probably, 15.
“Hey street rat, where’s your mutti?!”
Ludwig tried not to pay them any heed, even if he bristled at the rude words.
“...What business do you have with me?”
The shorter one grabbed him by the collar.
“I asked you a question, shorty!”
After the initial shock and fear, Ludwig felt a flash of anger. His fists clenched as he tried to struggle his way out. And worst of all was that he couldn’t do anything.
<Kid. Listen.>
“What?!”
<Listen to me. Tell me to “Intimidate”. Now. Don’t ask questions.>
“Of course! ...Intimidate, Lutz!”
————-
Ludwig stood there, dumbfounded at what he had just witnessed, as the teenagers ran away, screaming “DEMON eagle! DEMON eagle!”.
And there Lutz was, looking terribly bored, as if nothing had happened.
————
A week passed; Ludwig counted, as he always valued timekeeping, no matter what. The other street children left him alone, eyeing him strangely. Occasionally, he heard extortionists threatening some unfortunate soul.
That was when, however, Lutz told him something vital.
<Hey. Have you ever considered asking the police if you have any relatives?>
Ludwig looked at the eagle, puzzled.
“What?”
Lutz pointed at a building.
<There. It says “POLIZEI”. Can’t you read?>
“...Why? Won’t they throw me in jail or something?”
<Actually they have records too. They might have your mother’s family on file.>
Lutz looked up to see Ludwig’s dumbfounded face staring back at him.
“...Why didn’t you tell me that, you mutt?!”
<Thought it would be interesting to observe you. Also don’t be too loud. Everyone will think you’re a crazy person.
Ludwig took a look around, and indeed there were some passerbys staring at him.
Ludwig loudly sighed, his palm on his face.
“...Fine. Thanks anyway.”
--------------------------
“Your name?”
“Ludwig Beilshmidt.”
The officers looked at him for a few seconds.
“...As in Julia Beilshmidt? General Julia Beilshmidt?”
“Jawohl.”
They were in shock.
“...Excuse me? Is something wrong?”
“Erm… We apologize. Ja.”
“Do I have any relatives? I need some place to stay.”
“...Ja. We will search immediately. Please wait here. But it may take a while.”
————-
“Hallo? Is this the police? Why must you be calling?”
“Well, you see, sir… It appears that a relative of yours has suddenly shown up out of nowhere. ...He claims to be Beilshmidt’s son.”
“...Mein Gott. Julchen did say she had a son… I knew she wasn’t the type who should be able to take care of a child. I will be there as soon as I can.”
-------------
<This is boring.>
“I know, Lutz. Shut up.”
Lutz yawned.
“He should be here soon-”
It was then that the door to the police station opened with just enough force to be noticeable without slamming.
Standing there was a dark brown-haired gentleman with a large, curly cowlick, probably in his thirties, most likely affluent from his clothing.
“Excuse me, I hear there was someone waiting for me here?”
Ludwig stood up, and their eyes met.
“Hallo. ...You are Ludwig?”
He adjusted his glasses, then his tie.
“Ja?”
He looked him over.
“Ah, I can see some of the resemblance. Though you’re actually somewhat adorable, unlike her.”
“...Is that an insult against her?”
Realizing his mistake, the man cleared his throat.
“Ah, sorry.”
He outstretched his hand.
“I am Herr Roderich Edelmann. Your mother’s cousin. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard about you, but it is nice being able to see you with my own two eyes.”
Ludwig took the hand, shaking it.
“Ludwig Beilshmidt. Nice to meet you, Sir.”
Then, suddenly, Roderich’s formal facade dropped and he pulled the boy into a hug.
“You’re so precious! You may call me Onkel Roderich! Don’t worry, we will take great care of you!”
Lutz looked on in amusement as Ludwig’s cries of shock became muffled in the man’s chest.
Ludwig was flabbergasted. It had been so long since he had been hugged. He only could relive them in his memories, and they weren’t frequent, but here he was, feeling it yet again, surrounded by warmth; he didn’t know how to process it.
But if there was one emotion he was certain about as the man smoothed his hair and cooed over him, it was that he felt loved.
————-
Ludwig held on tightly as the automobile rocked around them. Roderich didn’t seem to mind it whatsoever, but Ludwig had only heard of an automobile once, and had seen, much less ridden, none. Roderich was happy to make him comfortable next to him though, warning him whenever a bump or “pothole” was coming up.
“I forgot to ask… what is that eagle doing with you? A purebred Fenrir no less?”
Lutz was lazily sprawled out in the back seat behind them, his ears pricking somewhat at the mention of him.
“Oh, that’s Lutz.”
“...Lutz? As in…”
“Jawohl.”
Roderich looked puzzled.
“Erm… Mutter named him.”
Roderich huffed.
“Ah, Julchen, of course…”
“He was my last Sancbruma present from her before she died.”
Roderich quieted for a few seconds.
“Oh… I see. We will accommodate him too. Do not worry. ...Also, no need to ‘jawohl’ around me.”
“Jawo… ja.”
—————
Onkel Roderich was a renowned musician; he was a master of many instruments and even knew how to compose, but his main forte was the piano. He was sought after for his talents across the land.
And he had the house to show it as well.
“Welcome to your new home, Ludwig.”
Ludwig took it all in; the house was already larger than average compared to others in town, and as a boy who had grown up in a small log cabin all his life, it seemed especially enormous.
A woman with long, light brown hair came up to them, looking from Roderich to Ludwig.
“Ah, Erzsébet! This is my nephew, Ludwig. He will be staying with us from now on.”
Roderich bent his knees so he was at Ludwig’s level.
“Ludwig, this is Erzsébet, my wife.”
“H… hallo. Nice to meet you, Tante Erzsébet.”
Ludwig outstretched his hand.
The woman merely eyed him for a few seconds.
“Hallo. I guess.”
She said, gruffly, with a distinctly foreign accent.
Roderich sighed.
“Erzsébet, why do you have to be like this?”
“Why do we have to take in this ratty-looking kid?”
Ludwig scowled.
“Hey!”
Roderich held Ludwig closer, glaring at her.
“Erzsébet! He’s a child! Have you no heart?!”
“Fine, fine.”
She shook his hand, roughly.
“But the eagle is cute though. And wow, a Fenrir?! Hallo, come here!”
Lutz merely yawned.
Ludwig couldn’t help but snicker as an unamused frown crept across Erzsébet’s face.
“...Whatever. Make yourself at home I guess.”
She walked off.
“Prepare the bath and extra room for the boy! Come on now!”
Roderich commanded, and soon after servants bowed and quickly ran upstairs in single file.
“Don’t mind my wife. She wasn’t exactly enthusiastic to hear from you. But she will warm up to you eventually. Though… you are in need of new clothes, aren’t you?”
He gave the boy a once-over, making Ludwig look down to his old, beaten-up and washed out child-sized military uniform.
“Sadly, we do not have any clothes your size as of now. I will have a servant hire the tailor immediately. Meanwhile I will order them to wash what you have now.”
<He’s awfully happy to see you, isn’t he?>
“Ja… he seems like a nice person.”
————
That might, Ludwig had the best dinner he had ever had.
He could only marvel at the dishes in front of him; even those he had heard of before looked so refined. And there was so much of it! The variety of bread available was amazing.
But he couldn’t let himself forget his discipline. Even if it took all his willpower not to start gorging himself on everything like he had been possessed by some demon of gluttony.
“Onkel, what is this?”
“A chocolate torte, you see. A type of cake.”
Ludwig remembered actually having a cake a grand total of once. He still remembered its sweetness so well and it was probably the best thing he ever had eaten. And then there were two other things he had only read about before.
...And Lutz seemed unusually interested in it.
He couldn’t blame him though, it’s aroma was mesmerizing to Ludwig’s senses.
“Chocolate? Is that what the brown is?”
“You have never had chocolate before?! Mein Gott, Julchen, What have you done?”
Ludwig was quick to take a bite, and he froze.
The mellow, deep sweetness melted on his tongue, spreading throughout his mouth in such an indescribably perfect way, a tinge of bitterness within that instead of detracting from the experience, somehow harmonized with the sweetness in such a heavenly way.
“...Ludwig?”
“...It’s amazing.”
Roderich seemed somewhat amused by how floored the boy was.
“Even your mother was quite a fan.”
<Hey, hey. Kid.>
Ludwig was surprised by the unusual agitation in Lutz’s thoughts. He didn’t think he had ever heard anything like it before.
“Lutz? What is-“
<I need it. Now. Don’t ask questions!>
Ludwig almost panicked, giving a piece to the impatient eagle.
“Ludwig!”
“I… erm… It was unfair to have it to myself!”
“...Wasn’t chocolate poisonous to eagles?”
Erzsébet questioned.
“Wait wha-“
<Don’t worry. ... Ahh, bliss...>
Ludwig smiled nervously.
“He’ll be fine.”
The couple just stared, confused.
“Erm…”
“Trust me! I know him well. ...Can I have more? Please?”
“Absolutely.”
His face absolutely lit up at that, and in the corner of his vision Ludwig saw quite possibly the most genuine expression of joy he had seen from Lutz in all the time he knew him.
“Why’s it that everyone in your family loves chocolate so much?”
Erzsébet asked as her husband took another piece.
“Why don’t you is the better question.”
“...Actually, yup, you two definitely are related. Leave some for me though!”
————
Roderich doted on the boy; he made sure he had the nicest clothes and the nicest food that he could afford.
He had made sure the room was in absolute best condition, that his pillows were always fluffed and bed always made, even if Ludwig insisted he wanted to do it on his own.
He taught him everything about the basics of civilization, how to read more complex sentences, how to play the piano and the violin, even how to dance. He took him with him to work, across the city and sometimes even country to places he had at best read about and to meet so many new people.
His next Sanctbruma and 12th birthday were the most extravagant he had ever had.
Yet…
Yet something was missing.
Despite the man’s kindness, he felt something wasn’t right. Ludwig couldn’t put a finger on what, and he felt awful about it to be sure; he did so much for him, what more could a boy ask for?
But yet…
Sure, Erzsébet never completely warmed up to him; even if she wasn’t as cold to him, according to Lutz she was merely tolerating him. And the same was true for many of the servants.
But that didn’t change the fact that Roderich himself was nothing but loving towards him. Even if he had curfews and other such rules, he never had trouble with rules. His mother raised him to obey rules. And while he was often busy, he still tried his best to spend time with him.
Finally, he actually had someone who resembled a parent after all those years. He should have been thankful.
But he wasn’t doing anything wrong.
Someone had to be doing something wrong.
At times, he still lay awake at night, those lonely days and nights and that fateful Sanctbruma playing back in his mind; as well as the accompanying emotions of pure hatred and wrath.
Once, Roderich has entered the room at an inopportune time to Ludwig curled up in his bed, seething, growling at him to leave him alone.
While he didn’t say anything about it at dinner, it was obvious he was disturbed by it.
“...Lutz. Why can’t I be happy? I still feel alone, but I don’t even know why.”
<Maybe you’ve been alone for too long. You’re past the point of return, kid. Maybe you should come to peace with it.>
“At least I have you.”
<Whatever.>
———
“Ludwig.”
“Ja, Onkel Roderich?”
The man sighed.
“It has been over a year since you started living with us. What is it with your standoffish behavior? Is something wrong? I will listen to it.”
“...I just can’t, Onkel.”
“Excuse me?”
“I… Something just doesn’t feel right. I don’t know why.”
The man looked so disappointed.
“I try my best to make you happy, Ludwig. I really do. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to satisfy your needs.”
“Nein. It isn’t that.”
Roderich shook his head.
“As I was saying… the chords for this piece are…”
—————
Ludwig continued to do his practice drills whenever possible, even if they had taken a different shape; makeshift targets became proper shooting galleries, improvised exercises became possible using an open space between buildings and proper equipment. And as he grew more and more by the day, his physical abilities took leaps and bounds above what he had been capable of before. He just wished he could go more than weekly. At first, Roderich objected, but it didn’t take long for him to cave in.
After all, he had to keep himself in shape, especially as he now had access to all the candy and chocolate that could be plausibly afforded.
After a while, Roderich started to continuously try to ask him to consider other options in this weekly time slot. He was never too forceful, however. And after a while, as Ludwig expressed his clear annoyance, it finally ceased just as it had begun.
There was another episode that irked Ludwig.
One night, as he went to get a glass of water, he had seen Roderich, seemingly sneaking away from his room.
“...Onkel?”
The man bristled as soon as he turned on the lights.
“Erm… Ludwig, I didn’t expect you to be awake..
Then, Ludwig saw it.
In his hands was his mother’s necklace.
“...What are you doing with Mutter’s necklace?”
He immediately stuffed it inside his pocket and turned around, a fake smile on his face.
“What necklace, my dear Ludwig?”
“I know you’re hiding it.”
The man sighed, taking it back out again.
“I… I wanted to put it in a place it will be safer in.”
Ludwig tried not to grill him further, even as he felt something fueled by doubt start to boil within him.
“I’m sure it will be safe with me. It’s been so for all the years I’ve had it. Can I have it back now?”
“...Ja.”
Ludwig swiftly took it back, going down to get his glass. He really needed one.
“You could tell a servant to get it for you?”
“No. I prefer to do it on my own.”
When Ludwig had returned to his room, he had quite the things to say to Lutz.
“Lutz. Why did you let him take it?”
<I was sleepy, kid. Why do you care about that thing so much?>
“It’s from Mutter. You should know. ...Lutz. If anything, protect this with your life.”
<Oh come on now.>
“I’m serious. It’ll be the last thing I ask of you.”
<Alright, alright. Whatever.>
“You aren’t sincere, are you?”
<What do you want from me? Good night.>
——————
One day, as Ludwig overheard some servants speaking to each other in hushed voices, glancing at him every so often.
He was able to catch two things; “Miss Erzsébet” and “barren”.
He wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. But for whatever reason he didn’t like the sound of it.
That night, after some shouting, once again Roderich stormed out of the master bedroom, telling Erzsébet to “Get a hold of yourself already, you indecipherable woman!”, to his own separate room, as Erzsébet shouted some words back that sounded really angry and probably inappropriate.
<There goes the lovely couple.>
Lutz thought, as Ludwig tried to sleep. Lutz, meanwhile, had no trouble.
————
13-year-old Ludwig stood outside of the bar, alongside Lutz, as always, and other members of his gang.
It was in a seedy, rough part of town. And it was where their rival gang frequented most often.
It wasn’t the most well-to-do of bars, to say the least; as soon as they entered, the air smelt pungently of alcohol, and ambiently of various nasties.
<Ergh. Try coming here as a eagle.>
They immediately saw their target; the offending gang’s leader.
Their leader went up to confront her rival, fists clearly ready to fly.
“Hey! We know ya killed him!”
“Who?”
The rival boss said, with a cheeky grin.
“Ya know who!”
The two continued to escalate their argument, until they became close to blows.
“Enough yammerin’! Get ‘em, boys n’ girls!”
Suddenly, they were grabbed by the rival gang bangers, including Ludwig, who held back a yelp.
“We didn’t kill one of yer ratpack, asshole! Now get out or we’re gonna force ya out!”
“...You better tell us.”
Ludwig said, tersely, utilizing his now lowering voice and copying his mother’s tone.
The rival boss laughed.
“Or what, kid? What are ya gonna do, huh? Man your recruiting standards have gone down!”
His boss smirked.
“Ya better listen to the kid.”
“Or what?”
They laughed uproariously.
“Lutz. Restrain.”
Their laughing instantly stopped, their faces going sheet white, all the other bar patrons, the bartender, and staff turning to gawk.
For they bore witness to the gang boss being pinned down, on the floor, between the claws of a giant, terrifying hellhound, its eyes glowing, its fangs bared, its breath in the unfortunate gangster’s terrified face.
Ludwig walked up to the rival boss with measured steps, the gangsters holding him having let go out of sheer terror, the thumping of his feet the only sounds other than his companion’s breathing and the squeaks and sputtering from bystanders and rival gangsters, and pulled out his old pistol, aiming it at the thug’s head, glaring daggers so sharp that they could gouge eyes out.
Show your enemy no mercy.
Once again, he thought he felt his mother voice in his ear.
“Tell us the truth.”
The rival boss sputtered, shaking like a leaf, looking awfully smaller than the much younger boy.
“We… we… d-d-di…”
Ludwig cocked his pistol.
“Speak in a real language!”
The rival boss flinched, and the rest of the rival gang huddled, terrified.
“W-we didn’t do anything! I-I swear! I swear!”
Ludwig lowered his pistol slightly.
“...Really?”
“J-ja! I swear! I swear by both the Heavenly and Hellish Yards! P-p-please let me go, Sir!”
“...Alright. Lutz, release.”
The eagle shrank back down to size, returning to his original, fluffy, cute self.
His boss grumbled.
“Whoop. That was pointless. Lud, let’s get outta this dump.”
They turned to leave, the other people in the bar still staring at them.
“W-Wait.”
Ludwig and his boss turned back to the humiliated rival boss.
“We might’ve not killed ‘im. But I-I have a good idea who might’ve.”
———-
“So, Lud. Good job today. We’ve got ourselves a lead.”
“Jawohl.”
Their boss patted Ludwig on the head and gave the group a once-over.
“Ok. You’re all dismissed.”
Ludwig was quick to leave, the others staring after him.
“What’s it with him? I swear, it’s like he doesn’t wanna be associated with us.”
“He said something about a curfew.”
“Really? Kid still follows curfews? What is he, 10?”
-----------------
When Ludwig came back, Roderich was waiting for him.
“Ludwig.”
“Onkel Roderich?”
Roderich’s expression was serious and stern.
“...What have you been doing?”
“What do you mean, Onkel Roderich?”
Roderich held Ludwig’s shoulders.
“Let me state this plainly.”
He took a deep breath.
“You’re involved in gang activity, aren’t you?”
Ludwig was in shock.
“How…”
Roderich shook his head, his hand on his forehead.
“Ludwig. I am sure even Julchen taught you to obey rules.”
“I… I don’t want to depend on you for everything. I feel like a leech.”
Roderich was shocked.
“You’re only 13, Ludwig! It is alright! It isn’t worth putting yourself at risk like this!”
“I don’t know how to do anything else.”
Roderich shook his head.
“Don’t say that. You could deliver newspapers, or use those piano skills I taught you-“
“And they’re my friends.”
“Friends?! I care for you, why do you need them?! Do you even know any of their names?!”
“...”
“You’re going to get into trouble eventually, young man.”
“I… I know!”
Roderich flinched.
Ludwig looked down and stormed back into the house, Lutz running behind him, into his room, throwing himself onto his bed.
“Hmph, teenagers...”
Erzsébet mumbled.
—————-
“Ludwig?”
Roderich opened the door to Ludwig’s room that night, peeking in.
Ludwig couldn’t bare to look him in the eye.
“I’m sorry.”
Roderich sighed.
“Is it because I’m not Julchen?”
The boy felt a pang of guilt.
“I’m sorry! I don’t hate you, I’m thankful for what you’ve done, and-”
“I see. Just try to forget about her, alright?”
Ludwig froze. He felt like someone had stabbed his heart.
“But…”
“I do so much for you. I give you everything. What was it that she had that I don’t? I’ve been a far better parent than that stone-hearted, cruel, cold-”
<Oh no. You’ve done it now.>
“DON’T SAY THAT ABOUT MY MUTTER!”
His voice cracked terribly, but he didn’t care.
Roderich stumbled back, his face pale, horrified.
Silence.
“Ludwig… I’m sorry.”
Ludwig buried his face into his pillows.
“...I’ll tell the servants to bring you dinner. I’m sorry. I really am.”
“Leave me alone!”
“...I’m happy with any path you want to take. Just please stay safe.”
Roderich sighed and closed the door.
From that day on, Roderich started informing Ludwig of where police may find him, and locations of stations across the city. Anything for his safety, he had said.
But from that day on Ludwig knew; he knew that his suspicions were true, that all this time he was trying to make him forget about his mother. He couldn’t let that happen. It was only confirmation when he heard him brutally disparage her one night in a drunken stupor during one of his binge-drinking sessions.
Once again, Ludwig could trust no one.
And once again, wrath simmered within him.
----------------
Their boss summoned Ludwig and the rest of the gang to a gathering; to sort out their clues, they had said.
Ludwig was appreciated for his abilities; but outside of the action, he sat somewhat removed from the rest. He couldn’t connect with them much either.
His mother had despised lawbreakers; “scum”, “rats”, she would call them. If she knew what he was doing now, she would have caned his palms until they were raw and bleeding. She would have told him he was better than this. He never would have imagined he could stoop this low too. After all, he was his mother’s only son. He should have been destined for greatness.
Quite honestly, he didn’t fully understand what he was doing here either. How did he even get here? Was it just a business affair? Were they really his friends?
Maybe it was because this was the closest thing to military service he could find. Even if it were on the other side of the law.
A girl a year or so older than him, the second youngest in the gang, came up to him attempting to speak to him. Ludwig hesitated, but in the end continued to be fascinated with the clues they had and Lutz.
“Hey give up on Herr Stick-In-The-Mud already! Bet he’s never even kissed a girl!”
A gangster said, using the nickname they often used when ribbing him.
“What’s with him? He to good for us?” One of them muttered when Ludwig refused a drink.
“Ja. Imagine being one of us and caring about drinking ages. Never can understand Herr Stick-In-The-Mud.”
“Ja. Where was he raised, His Majesty’s Elite Imperial Barracks?”
“Hey, hey, did you hear that Boss might have the hots for him too?”
“Why don’t you fuckwits shut the fuck up?” Their boss barked at the last one. “The kid’s basically an infant!”
<You’re the most rule-bound gangster I’ve ever seen.>
“Why do they treat it as a bad thing?”
<You’re the one who joined a street gang, genius. They’ve got different rules.>
Ludwig looked at the bottle of cheap moonshine he had been offered again, sighed, and took a gulp.
He immediately gagged.
The last time he’d had booze was when Roderich had allowed him to try beer, and even then he had basically diluted half of it with water and it definitely didn’t taste like... whatever this bottle of horse urine was.
“Ack! This is awful! ...I did it, are you happy now?”
“That’s the spirit!”
“Doesn’t count! He gagged!”
Ludwig took a deep breath.
“Let’s get back on topic. We are discussing the murder of a fellow comrade. This is no time for inane chatter.”
Finally, the air became solemn.
“Ja, reasonable, I guess…”
“Now, onto the information Scout 2 gathered...”
—————-
Ludwig, more than anything, considered himself a logical person.
He and his mother both despised vagueness. It seemed pointless, really, all the dancing around the true meaning of your words in the name of “politeness”. While apparently many in this part of the continent were considered similarly blunt and practical, it seemed even then he was exceptional.
So his own emotional turmoil, how he could never seem to explain himself, frustrated him more than anyone else. It angered him.
But one thing he knew for sure was that he looked forward to stopping by the library on the way home. Thank goodness Roderich had taught him to read to a level more appropriate for his age; it was difficult at first, but he was also fortunately a fast learner.
He always had taken a fascination with the sciences. They were at first glance unpredictable, but once broken down and observed, logical. They made sense, they were rational. Recently, he started finding them more investing than fiction, in fact. And his new reading skills finally made the higher levels of it beyond simplistic drawings attempting to explain the laws of physics and magic accessible.
Which was why today he sat outside the library in his usual spot, looking through a medical encyclopedia, munching on one of many bars of dark chocolate and a small loaf of bread.
Lutz licked up pieces of chocolate Ludwig had given him, peeking from under him.
“HERS?”
<Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome.>
Ludwig looked to Lutz in shock.
<A rare genetic, psychiatric disorder with no known cause. Those afflicted by Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome, a Hereditary Evil Raiser, or HER, is said to be at their core an incarnation of malice, "programmed" to destroy the gods, everything they created and everything related to them. Therefore, as a natural prerequisite, they typically show extreme cruelty and having the compulsion to increase their own kind and ensure the continuation of their "mission" to spread malice by any means necessary, taking immense pleasure in doing so. Currently there is no known cure, though in high-functioning individuals it may be managed, and manifest in lesser ways.>
“How…”
<I have my ways.>
“Though… Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome? Who names this stuff?”
<Hey. They probably had their reasons.>
“Why do you care? Did you come up with it?”
<Maybe. Plus, that’s rich coming from the kid who literally named me “Blackie”.>
Ludwig sighed.
“I... Fine. And wait... are you reading with me?”
<Yeah, I can read. I never told you?>
Ludwig continue to stare at him.
“I... I just didn’t think you would...”
<Turn the page already. I already know this.>
"Maybe you could try reading a novel, Lutz?”
<Don’t care. Why should I care about what you flesh-apes think, much less fake ones? No one in the world knows what I’m thinking anyway.>
Ludwig closed the encyclopedia.
“You mean you feel that no one understands you, right?”
Lutz looked up, his ears erect.
His words struck him like a spark of lightning.
“That makes two of us”
An awkward few moments passed. For once in his life, Lutz had nothing to retort back.
Why was he so shocked?
Ludwig blinked, confused.
“Lutz? What’s wrong?”
<...Nothing.>
Lutz didn’t know what he had just felt.
“That makes two of us”
It should have meant nothing, coming from this brat.
But yet...
Whatever. It probably still meant nothing.
-------------------------
“We’ve got our guy! Rich bastard’s not gonna know what hit ‘im.”
Their boss said, confidently, gesturing to an assassin she had bought into their abandoned factory hideout.
The assassin looked across the crowd of gangsters.
“So. Which one of you brats wants to come?”
“Actually, we’ve got a good clue already for who’s gonna be a good fit for this mission.”
Ludwig waited, anxiously. He would gladly take the job of avenging his fallen comrade, of course.
“Ludwig!”
Ludwig stood to attention.
“...You’ll be providing nice clothes for us to blend in!”
Ludwig was speechless.
“How… Why?”
<Turns out you aren’t as tough as you thought. Better luck next time, kid.>
But when all had left, he went up to his boss. He needed answers.
“Why am I excluded?”
She looked at him as if he was stupid.
“I don’t think ‘Giant Enemy eagle’ is a viable weapon to use on a cruise ship.”
“But… I can shoot well too! You said I was a great marksman!”
“You’re good. Gotta say that. Still, don’t know about your skills in stealth yet. Can’t risk it. Now, see ya.”
Then, she abruptly cut him off and left.
-----------------
Three days later, Ludwig and the rest of the gang not chosen for the plot awaited at the dock.
Soon, they spotted the assassination party, coming towards them.
One person was clearly missing.
“Hey! Boss! ...Boss? And where’s...”
Her face was dire.
“Shot dead. ...He spotted us.”
“He saw all our faces. All of you are fucked. We’re all fucked.”
More silence.
“...WHAT?!”
Silence immediately gave way to panic.
Ludwig stood, frozen.
“How… Why…”
He clutched his head, overwhelmed.
“But it can’t…”
Emotions swirled inside the boy, overpowering all of his senses, all of his thoughts.
What was going to happen to him? His friends?
“No, no, no, nonononononono…”
<You know what to do, kid.>
Suddenly, he bolted.
Along the harbor, he ran.
Then, in a burst of emotion and without much thought, as if on instinct, he acted immediately as Lutz took a running leap into the sea.
“SIC ‘EM, LUTZ!”
He didn’t even bother with the telepathy.
Everyone could only look on in shock and horror as Lutz became an utter behemoth of a beast, seemingly not completely solid and with a godlike glow, his tail alone twice the size of the ship; to those who were watching from afar, it would have looked as if a demon eagle had risen out of the sea itself.
The ship was no match for the beast. Before anyone could fully comprehend what was going on, the ship had been sunk, every single person on it with it.
----------------
Ludwig walked back to the gang, who all stood staring at him, utterly horrified.
Finally, someone broke the silence.
“...Holy shit.”
Another turned to him, their eyes wide.
“...Lud? Did you just…”.
The boy’s mind was blank. What could he even say?
He had killed all of them. Every single one of them.
But in the end...
“Mission accomplished…?”
“Am I trippin’?”
“Did we just witness a massacre?”
“...What the fuck?”
Ludwig took a deep breath.
“But we accomplished our mission. ...I did what I had to do.”
“Ja, but… Holy shit.”
“In anyway…”
Their boss cleared her throat.
“Let’s… Let’s go with this loot before the cops find out.”
The rest could only muster a “Ja” in unison.
Lutz trotted up to Ludwig, as unbothered as always.
“Lutz…”
<Just did as I was told. Don’t complain to me. Here.>
In the eagle’s jaws was a doll; an eerily faceless, unusual, porcelain-ish doll of indeterminable gender.
<Here. I brought a present.>
“What is…”
<Have it. Since I can’t give you Sancbruma presents, here it is, months early.>
“It’s… it’s probably from a dead child, Lutz!”
<Don’t be ungrateful. Oh, and your buddies are waiting. You should go.>
“...Ja. I did what I had to do. We killed him. That’s all that should matter…”
————-
The news of the shipwreck was all over the radio. They had listened to it in their hideout, huddled around the device.
“The perpetrator is currently unknown. However, many claim to have heard the voice of a boy or young man scream for the eagle to attack…”
————-
When Ludwig came home, Roderich was standing in front of the door, in shock.
“Ludwig…”
“Onkel?”
“...It was you wasn’t it?”
Ludwig looked down to his feet.
“Lutz, specifically…”
<Hey.>
Roderich pulled him into a protective embrace.
“You could have put yourself in so much danger! What if the police find out about you?! Don’t you dare do that again.”
"...”
Roderich pulled him in.
“Now, come in before someone recognizes you.”
—————
Roderich rarely ever let him join the rest of the gang since that day; it was too dangerous, he had said.
He went out in mostly in a dark hood for a disguise, at times without Lutz, for over the radio, one expert had identified the beast as “a black Fenrir transformed with powerful magic.”
Later that year, a month before Sancbruma and two months before his 14th birthday, he had heard something unusual.
<Ludwig… Ludwig…>
“Huh?”
Telepathy. But Lutz wasn’t with him; it came from the doll in his bag.
Ever since that fateful day, Lutz had told him to carry it for some vague reason he couldn’t understand; his alleged simple explanation was “It’s amusing to see you carry around a girly doll like that.”
<Ludwig...>
He took the bag off his back and looked in.
<Someone is after you. You have been found out. You must run.>
“What?! How do you…”
<Do not ask. Please, please run… you must.>
He slung it back over his shoulder.
“Lutz!”
He had to get Lutz. Now.
But by the time he had gotten home, it was too late.
“No, Sir, he is not here. You will not find him here…”
“There he is!”
Two figures stood with Roderich; two figures he didn’t recognize.
A tanned, sturdy-looking man in a black suit, probably from the south of the continent, turned his attention away from Roderich, and pointed at Ludwig, gun in hand.
“Ludwig Beildshmidt! You are under arrest!”
Ludwig’s eyes widened. Emotions and stress once again blitzed through him.
“Lutz! Restrain! ...Lutz? Lutz?!”
His eyes darted next to the man to the other figure, what Ludwig thought to be a long-haired, somewhat tall foreign woman in eastern attire, her dark, raven hair pulled back into a ponytail; seemingly holding Lutz back without touching the eagle, but clearly struggling.
“Hurry!”
She shouted, in a foreign accent Ludwig didn’t recognize.
Ludwig bolted.
“Don’t you dare, you-“
“Herr Edelmann! Stop, or you will be arrested as well for interfering with police procedure!”
“Don’t touch him!”
The mysterious man finally shoved the weaker-looking man off him and gave chase, but Roderich grappling with him had given him some extra time...
“Ludwig! RUN! RUN!”
But before Ludwig could escape, all of a sudden he was blindsided by a third person, jumping on his back and pinning him down, the boy’s small body no match for the adult.
“LUDWIG!”
“Let me go, LET ME GO!”
That was the last thing he remembered saying before he had been slammed on the back of the head.
Ludwig blacked out.
To be continued in part 2...
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Author’s notes:
So I had to split this thing in half since it became much longer than I expected. Wow this is a monster. You will see the parts listed here after I write them. Parts, because this will have two different routes! Hopefully! Then again it seems like no one read this...
Also, the scene with the sea is even more ambiguous “canon” in this already ambiguously “canon” story, but I wanted to write it in because I liked it, having seen the idea that Prussia has some kind of connection to the sea before and liking it. I wish I could find it now. I think Alt-Prussia would have grown up with the sea when he was younger, and while he would stay very strictly a land fighter (in fact the Prussian navy was never all that good, being mostly a merchant fleet. Even the German navy, while it did go through a growth period in the 1880s in competition with Britain I believe, by WWII at least their Kriegsmarine kind of sucked. It’s why the invasion of Britain never happened, their navy would have been laughably curbstomped), and I still associate England, Netherlands, or Portugal way more with the ocean, maybe the North Sea has some kind of soothing effect on him.
Also adorable child!Germany is adorable. Why do I love this kid so much? Why is he so damn cute?!
#hhvdEvent#hws germany#aph germany#evillious chronicles#Key to Zorn series#alt-talia#2p germany#Evillious Chronicles x Alt-talia series
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The Author’s Dossier: “Remembrance of the Judicator”
@doctornolonger and @rassilon-imprimatur have both used their Tumblr blogs to write fun and informative “spotter’s guides” to the miscellaneous references in their licensed Faction Paradox stories. And, though they are of course further removed from Who than the further adventures of everyone’s favorite time-traveling goth cult, the adventures of Lady Aesculapius are indubitably another spinoff existing on the edges of the extended Whoniverse, no matter what a certain Wiki maintains. Besides which, I thought, “this looks fun”.
So while there may not be as much to say here as there might in future entries (fingers crossed on the existence thereof!), here is, without further ado, the official author’s guide to Remembrance of the Judicator, my short story from the Forgotten Heroines of the 10,000 Dawns 2020 April Fools’ Day event, available for free here. Obviously, this detail-attentive reread will spoil what little there is to be spoiled in this tale, so you should probably read it first if you haven’t already.
Enjoy!
REMEMBRANCE of the JUDICATOR
We kick things off with a classic “Phrase of the Creature” sort of title. The Phrase even begins with the letter “R”! This isn’t anything new ([1], [2], [3]) to the Crew of the Copper-Colored Cupids series, but I’d be lying if I said that classic Doctor Who’s famous use of such titles wasn’t on my mind when I chose this one; in fact, one of Who’s most famous “Phrase of the Creature” titles used “Remembrance” as its Phrase.
And you know what? Much as we might all admire 1988′s Remembrance of the Daleks, I think my plot justifies the use of the term “Remembrance” far better than Ben Aaronovitch’s. What are the Daleks remembering, exactly? Or is it that some other party is remembering them? If so, who and why?
So I hope you’re happy with finally having a “Remembrance of the X” story where what the X remembers actually plays a big part in the plot. Because to do this, I gave up on “Prisoner of the Jud…icator”.
“So on the bright side,” began Ashlyn Oswin, straining against her bonds, “we're not back with the talking cats.”
Starting ruthlessly in medias res: now there’s a trick that comes more from Duck comics than from Who. 1950′s and 1960′s stories, be they by Carl Barks or Vic Lockman, had a tendency to open with splash panels of the main characters in a ridiculous predicament and trying at half-hearted banter despite the situation, which would then spark a flashback to how they’d gotten there in the first place. Not that I employed a flashback.
Because who has time for flashbacks when you can instead reference a delightful bit of Ashlyn Oswin’s official James Wylder-sanctioned story? In fact, that Ashlyn spent some time in a dimension of talking cats was one of the things in her condensed character bio that came with the submission guidelines for the Forgotten Heroines Takeover event. The story, if anyone’s wondering, is The Days the Cats Spoke, from 2015.
When Ashlyn says “we” aren’t back with the talking cats, is she just referencing that story and using a rhetorical “we”? Or did the Forgotten Heroines run into the same talking cats again at some point between Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot and the opening of this story? You decide!
“Everybody wants to be a c...” Miranda began to hum sarcastically.
“Hush, you can't sing that here,” barked a guard.
It would be wrong to characterize Disney’s The Aristocats (1970) as a guilty pleasure of mine, in that actually, I wear my Aristocat fandom proudly. The Disney movies of the 1970′s are, I find, generally very underrated. They made up for the lack of showy big-budget effects with stellar character animation, great voice performances — and the earwormiest of earwormy tunes!
Pictured below: me, setting out to write this story.
Anyway…
“No copyrighted music, are we clear?”
“If you think I give a damn about that sort of thing, you have another thing coming,” the mysterious traveller in all of narrative space only known as the Tourist retorted, trying to take a daring stance.
The Collective of the Retconning Crocodiles’ policies regarding recognizable songs turns out to be uncomfortably familiar to anyone who’s tried to upload a YouTube video lately. And significance the Tourist’s flippancy at the idea of caring in the slightest about copyright is, of course, immediately made obvious by a slight twist on that classic “mysterious traveller in all of Time and Space known only as the Doctor” line from the Doctor Who Target novelisations, and not-so-recently made hip again by Missy in World Enough and Time (2017).
In other words, as a first draft of Lady Aesc, the Tourist belongs to the same long tradition of riffs and remixes of the Doctor Who formula, divergent stories which are very much their own characters and their own stories, but who are also very conscious of being just different enough from old Theta Sigma that the BBC won’t mind. Copyright, to her, isn’t some scary taboo to be bandied about by scaly bullies, it’s an ongoing game of cat and mouse.
Could... specimens of... of whatever species she was... drown like regular people? Clearly they could trip like anyone else. Or get chained up by sentient crocodiles like anyone else. The real question was, could you drown in a Time Sewer?
Just what is the Tourist, aside from a lovable grimdark prat? “Not a Time Lord”, say any lawyers worth their salt; as much a Time Lord as I can get away with making her, I suspect is more like what the younger James Wylder who made her up originally envisioned. Just like Aesc herself, the finished version of the 10k Dawns riff on the aesthetics of the Great Houses, namely the Firmament, would end up striking a perfect balance of the new and the familiar.
But in the meantime, the Tourist’s crew can get confused about whether or not she has a respiratory bypass system, albeit not in so many words.
I had mentioned some time ago, via in-character blog comments, that the Crocodiles get about through, and reside in, repellant Time Sewers. A take-off on that whole “alligators in the sewers of New York” thing, don’t you know? But this was the first time I took my readers into them and elaborated at any length on how they work.
The Tourist and her merry crew had stepped out in search of the fluid leak that was so rudely interrupting their lackadaisical rampage through the slice of omniversal reality known as the 10,000 Dawns, and been immediately set upon by—
Wait, liquid from the Sewers clogs up the Black Pyramid’s systems, and their response is to go out to look for a leak? Well, I’m sorry. But then, how else could I work in a reference to the reason that a certain rip-off of the Tourist had for stepping out of his own Ship back in Dr. Who and the Daleks (1965)?
If Pathway had been here, there might have been some hope. Things seemed to get suddenly more serious when Pathway was around. Possibly because of the katana. But, alack, Pathway was not here, being busy following a probable wild-goose-chase for a Numbered connection in Dawn 789.
In James Wylder’s Prototype, another story in the Forgotten Heroines Takeover which ran before mine, but which I hadn’t read when I submitted Remembrance of the Judicator, we see Pathway squaring off against one of the Numbered whose designation is… 789. Here’s the scary thing: I swear this is a coincidence. Dawn 789 was just supposed to be a random Dawn and I had no idea quite what the “Numbered connection” really was.
(Or did Wylder add that detail to his draft in reference to my story, even though his story happens first and was released first? Who knows!)
“You've kept us alive, so clearly we're valuable to you.”
“You're not talking to a Centro stooge, you know,” Ashlyn muttered with a glare in Shona's direction, which was rather impressive as they were tied back-to-back. “Maybe these guys aren't even capitalists.”
“I should say not!” grunted the Crocodile, waving its spear closer to them. “We are in fact a Collective! The Collective of the Retconning Crocodiles!”
Shona, like many other characters in the 10,000 Dawns series, has spent a significant of time fighting against the tyranny of various versions of Centro Systems, a world-spanning megacorporation who, in a lot of the Dawns, acts as a world government for whom capitalism isn’t just an economic system, but an actual political philosophy.
The Crocs aren’t meant to be actual communists, of course — in their case, Collective is to be taken in the more sci-fi-oriented, “Hive” sense of the word. But the joke was too good to pass up. And anyway, whatever they are, they’re not capitalists either, even if they do try to make people sign contracts.
“Oh? Isn't this part of the 10,000 Dawns?” Miranda asked with a disappointed pout. “We were rather heading for the 10,000 Dawns here.”
“Yeah, we had a whole thing going,” Ashlyn concurred.
The “heading for the 10,000 Dawns” made more sense back when I imagined that this would be the crew’s first adventure after escaping the draft universes, rather than the last before the finale.
Still, it all worked out: my story ran immediately after Alex Wakeford’s Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot, where some enemies whose tech has more than a little in common with the Crocodiles’ accidentally sent Ashlyn to a certain battlefield in what was clearly the bona fide Doctor Who universe. And of course, White Canvas (2018) established (if it still needed establishing) that this world isn’t part of the 10,000 Dawns, though it has had contact with them.
So maybe, just maybe, Miranda is actually talking about their having been on their way back to the Dawns from Earth-5556…
“I'm only a humble guard,” the Retconning Crocodile answered, “I'm sure I wouldn't know.”
Wholly meaningless reference to a beloved bit of Doctor Who dialogue? Or a hint that however the Time Sewers work, it’s similar to how Gallifrey in the Stasis Cube worked? Who knows! …Not me.
“Ugh! I know!” she cut it off moodily. “But don't say it in front of them!” She gestured at Shona and Ashlyn. “Miranda's like me, but they — they don't understand metafiction the way I do.”
Take it away, The Inexplicable Adventures of Bob:
“Behind those shades and that too-cool-for-school attitudes, you're just another intruder.”
“I am far more than just another intruder,” answered the woman with the pyramid. “I'm the Tourist.”
The only direct allusion to Remembrance of the Daleks in this story, title aside.
(“You’re just another Time Lord!” “I am far more than just another Time Lord.”)
“Even if I had ever been human,” the Tourist answered through clenched teeth, “which by the way isn't admission one way or another—my method of travel would have turned me into something... more than human, one way or another, by now. Also, shut up, didn't you hear the reptiles?”
When Doctor Who decided to retcon, in 1969, that the Doctor was from an alien civilization that only coincidentally resembled humanity, perhaps the most intriguing piece of canon that was lost was the suggestion in The Evil of the Daleks (1966) that it was the Doctor’s travels through Time and Space which had made him “more than human”. At the end of the day, that is where the EDAs’ concept of biodata got started, too, I think.
“A little chaos between friends is a wonderful thing,” the Tourist boasted.
Not only is the Tourist a bit of a Doctor clone, she’s an unwieldily sturm-&-drang, “darker and edgier” Doctor clone. Sound familiar? Yep, the Tourist thus finds herself (nearly) quoting Sacha Dhawan’s Spy Master from Spyfall (2020).
“Not in the eyes of the Firmament it isn't,” the Head Crocodile boomed, thumping his staff against the marble floor for emphasis, and the four realized that it had retconned itself into having held a staff all along, just so it could do that. “Don't you see? They'll never allow your wanton interference to stand. Before day's end, I expect they'll press a massive Reset Button on the entire thing. The entire thing.”
I think it was the idea of Lupan Evezan (@drleevezan), in The Frost King’s Treasure (2019), that the Crocodiles would have technological gizmos at their disposal which have the names of, and the ability to effect, various popular tropes. A literal Red Herring which briefly makes anyone who looks at it think it’s a major clue in whatever mystery they’re trying to solve, that sort of thing. Case in point…
(Do the Firmament also call it a Reset Button, or were the Crocodiles just phrasing it in a way that would make sense to them? I’m not the person to ask.)
“Hold on, you're just quoting the Judicator's introduction paragraph in the original 10,000 Dawns webnovel, aren't you?” the Tourist interrupted, unimpressed.
And they are, too.
“No!” cried the Head Crocodile as all the other members of the Collective collapsed back into him.
See what I meant about the sci-fi sense of Collective? The Crocodiles are plural, but they aren’t really a set of actual individuals, or at least not all of the time. Someday I’ll write a story explaining this in more detail.
“To come to its conclusions,” the Tourist explained, talking down to Shona slightly (to her displeasure), “the Judicator draws from a sense of morality and from every record it can find of every law ever passed in history. So, if someone were to, say, go back in time and spam all legal records with an overwhelming number of new laws, stating that we specifically have to be let go under all circumstances — well — its hands would be tied, wouldn't it?”
This is an obvious, twofold loophole that jumped out to me when I first read 10,000 Dawns: feeding every legal system ever into a computer wouldn’t really get you the perfect jurist, would it? It’d first risk getting a blubbering wreck who can’t deal with the mountain of contradictions between the laws of 11th century China and mid-19th century Holland; and even if you get past that, it’s liable to be polluted with a bunch of useless, anachronistic laws. Nonsense like laws against being ugly in public would take up unnecessary but uncrunchable space in its databanks.
Still, I suppose the “but also it has to act moral” element mostly rights the logic. Our heroines are only able to exploit the loophole here because they have limitless time travel and because, as the heroines, they’re assumed to be in the right opposite the Crocodiles and thus favored by the Judicator.
“Ugh, enough soul-searching!” Miranda suddenly declared, and sprayed a portal onto the nearest wall. “I don't know how long it is before day's done. But in the meantime, let's have some adventures.”
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