You know I frequently think about what Magnus Archive entities different characters from things would be warlocks for but I don’t think I’ve ever really talked about any of my thoughts on it before. Maybe I should start doing that, just for fun. Someone might find it interesting. This one is for IEYTD because I don’t expect this hyperfixation to die very soon. Spoilers for all the games. Oh and if you want to use this as inspiration for some weird crossovers you can, but please tell me if you do, because I wanna see it.

Agent Phoenix: The End This one is especially fitting if you think of the time loops as being in universe, stuck dying again and again, but it works even without that. Constantly close to death, feeling the fear of death, but never actually dying. Causing others fear because their friends have to deal with grief and their enemies have to be terrified every time they survive something they shouldn’t have. You could make an argument for The Beholding, you can for most protagonists, but it doesn’t make as much sense to me.

Handler: The Beholding He watches his agents do such dangerous things and can’t do much more than watch. He can help in someways but not too many. I imagine it would also be uncomfortable for Zoraxis agents to know they’re being watched by someone who they can’t see, someone other than the agent in front of them. Alternatively, he could be The Web. (“A mere puppeteer, they only enslave you,”) I just don’t think that works as well since he also has to answer to The Agency and he doesn’t have any malicious intent with his manipulations.

Dr. Zor: The Web Constantly orchestrating schemes from the shadows, has no loyalty to anyone and will kill their highest ranks without remorse if they interfere with their plans, too clever to ever be caught, and knows what Phoenix will do well enough to leave messages for them. Could also make arguments for The Stranger, The Beholding, The End, and The Extinction, but I think all of those connect back to their plotting and masterminding.

Daniel Sans: The Corruption Very minor character but I felt like adding him here. He made a super virus. That’s it that’s all I’ve got.

Zoraxis AI: The Buried Specifically the one in the escape pod. Does this even count as a character? No idea, but you can’t tell me that escape pod doesn’t sound like it would be the subject of someone’s statement if they got out of it alive.

Hivemind: The Corruption He’s literally just bees. Like, a bunch of bees. His name is Hivemind. What else can I even say?

Solaris: Uh The Vast Maybe? Because space? I’ll be honest I’m not really sure about this one, if anyone has any ideas I’d love to hear them.

The Fabricator: The Desolation She seems to enjoy the pain she causes with her inventions, whereas some of the scientists in game seem more like they’re just hurting people for the sake of their science. I’d also definitely accept The End for her since death traps are kind of her main thing.

John Juniper: The Stranger He’s got the masks, the acting and lying, he impersonates people, it seems like a perfect fit honestly. I guess he could maybe work for The Spiral but that’s mostly because it’s so similar to The Stranger.

Gibson: The Beholding Ok this one might sound a bit weird but hear me out. Phoenix pretends to be Gibson for a reason, his radio allows him to eavesdrop and he probably does eavesdrop just so he won’t miss Juniper’s commands. Gibson is just a butler, but he hears all about these worldwide conspiracies and gets caught in the crossfire, and there really isn’t much he can do about it. Except threatening to share the things that he’s heard, which is very affective, because he’s heard a lot of important secrets.

Shawn in HR: The Beholding Honestly he really does give me archive assistant or object storage vibes. Just doing his job hearing about and sorting the horrors. The big difference is that the horrors in this situation are corporate espionage and conspiracies.

Dr. Prism: The Extinction Ok once again, this may seem a bit weird, but hear me out. Her main goal in game is to replace the agents with robots and there is an element of humanity being replaced to The Extinction, not just everyone dying. Then there’s Zor’s betrayal destroying all her robots at once. Then she helps Phoenix save all the agents in the world from death. Even if it’s never an extinction of humanity she certainly has experience with extinctions. An alternate might be The Hunt because of her obsession with revenge and killing Phoenix or Zor, and the Agency trying to track her down.

Robutler: The Stranger or The Spiral He just seems so friendly and happy to talk to you while he attempts to kill you.

Ollie: The Lonely I swear this isn’t just because Ollie’s voice reminds me of Alexander J Newall’s. The poor guy just got abandoned in the ocean for like at least a month. His coworkers and bosses seem to be pretty mean to him too.

Director Morales: The Web He really is just running The Agency behind the scenes. We really don’t hear much about him orchestrating anything but maybe that’s just because he’s really good at it. Out of all these characters, he would probably be the creepiest to me if he was actually a warlock for an entity.

The Phantom: The Web We really don’t know much about them but they manage to leave coins for Phoenix to find everywhere they go knowing that they’ll find them. Very Web like behavior. Maybe The Hunt. The coin thing is kinda like a scavenger hunt and they do have to track down Phoenix to leave those clues.

Please (if you want to) expand on what you said about the different ways Roy and Jamie swear because that is extremely fascinating

I mean, I'll start by saying I am in no way a linguistics expert. I also lack the cultural and social background to speak about the swearing habits of Mancunians and Londoners with any authority. (Again, to clarify, I am Scottish.)

However, being familiar with the accents in question, being immersed in British media my entire life, and having had voice training does mean I have an instinctual 'feel' for what sounds right for their characters... or what does for me, at least.

Swearing and rambling under the cut.

Beyond just swear words, the cadence and tones of Roy and Jamie's voices are vastly different.

Jamie talks faster, for one. It is a bit of a trend that the further north you go in the UK, the speedier the speech gets. I slow down a lot, even if I'm just visiting England, in order to be understood by non-Scots.

Therefore, Jamie uses longer words or phrases more casually in conversation (if not always correctly, bless his heart) because the rhythm of his speech allows for it. This also means that if he swears mid-sentence, it's basically just punctuation and comes across as a habit.

Adding adjectives adds emphasis. So when he is intentionally swearing directly at someone, he would call that someone a "big hairy baby twat" rather than just a "twat".

(I will also point out that I think "fucking dickhead" is criminally underused by Jamie in both canon and fanon.)

Roy, on the other hand, has a slower rhythm. He still swears very naturally (obviously) but is more likely to use single syllable words i.e. "fuck", "prick", "shit".

The way that vowels sound in his accent also plays a part here. For example, he says "fah-ck", as opposed to Jamie's softer "foh-ck", which is immediately more tonally aggressive (the different way they draw out the vowels is important too but I can't think of how to describe it).

Roy doesn't need to add on anything extra because the harder tone of his voice gives every swear a weighty impact. However, that's not to say he can't get creative.

Let's take Roy calling the woman harassing Jamie a "nutty arsemonger" in the Protective RoyxJamie fic. I agonised over what Roy was going to say because when he takes a second to think about how he's going to insult someone, things get colourful.

Cultural influence plays a bigger part in these scenarios.

The use of "nutter" is pretty widespread in the UK. "Nutty" as a descriptor, however, is a bit more specific and something I'd personally associate with the South.

That has to be paired with something and, particularly as he's talking to a woman, that makes things complicated.

Now, if I'm being brutally honest, in reality, someone of Roy's background and age would probably have said "cunt". It's very much not as big of a deal over here as I know it can be in the States. Tat said, it still felt a bit harsh to me as something someone in the 'Ted Lasso' universe would say. It's also very gender-charged and if Roy were going to use it, he's more likely to say it to another man.

For similar reasons, I discounted him calling her a "cow" or a "bitch". Less severe, but still not quite right for a man in his (at this point) early 40s who goes out of his way to be respectful to the women he knows. (Moments of idiocy aside, of course.)

That brought me to "arse". Anyone can be one. Great.

But he can't just say "nutty arse" and call it a day. Firstly, because "s" is a soft sound, especially in a deep tone, and the insult sounds incomplete in Roy's voice if he doesn't end on a hard note. Say it to yourself, try out your best Kent impression - it isn't right, is it?

Jamie absolutely could just say "arse" because the "ah" sound is very harsh in his accent and the "s" is more pronounced by his higher voice.

But Roy needs something more to round out the phrase. I landed on "arsemonger" eventually because of the meaning more than anything. (Generally used for someone without class, implies promiscuity.) Introducing that "ger" at the end also sounded a lot better and more natural.

I don't know if I'm making any sense here but hopefully this communicates a bit of what I meant?

If you're looking to delve a bit deeper (without the swearing), a good point of reference might be the Ninth Doctor and Rose's era of 'Doctor Who'. It's not perfect (Christopher is from Salford, Billie from Swindon) but it's another really good example of North/South talking habits.

'Only Fools and Horses' might give you a good idea of the language Roy grew up around, just bear in mind it's more in tune with his parents' generation.

'Coronation Street' is the obvious touchstone for Manchester accents but I haven't watched it in a long time. The kids in 'Waterloo Road' might be a bit more relevant as contemporary examples.

“fitting a square peg into a square peg” or “and they both were tops”

Chapter 4: one-way ticket (it’s porn!)

work rating: E

chapter rating: E

characters: John “Soap” MacTavish, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick cameo, John Price cameo

Tags: Sexual Tension, terrible flirting, Masturbation, First Time Bottoming, Fantasizing

part 1

part 2

part 3

ao3 link

The walk to Ghost’s office was short in a physical sense, but experientially, it went on for ages. Soap’s psyche was dry heaving the whole way, and between the footfalls and rasping shifts of fabric, you could actually hear the retches if you listened close enough. So yeah, that was the terrific journey that landed them back in square one. Two gigantic men, one tiny room—an office-cum-bedroom, apparently—, and a world full of possibility. That sort of thing.

You see, that whole world of possibility thing—it included the good possibilities, yes, but also the bad ones. Among the bad ones were the “eh, that kinda sucks” ones and also the “ah damn, my neck’s been twisted and i’m dead now” ones, so naturally Soap was wound a little tight. Sue him.

And Ghost, the fucker, standing there all puffed up and pissed-looking, taking up half the damn room, did nothing to calm Soap’s nerves. In fact, his psyche was dry heaving even harder which made it an absolute bastard to find the words needed to break the ice. This was all internal, though. On the outside, Soap appeared to just be…standing there. Waiting. For what, exactly, was anyone’s guess.

 “Fuck,” Ghost said, graciously breaking the silence. Unfortunately, his tone was undoubtedly negative. The word “exhausted” came to mind, bolstered by how he deflated like a burst pool floatie. He took a step forward into the already-limited space and began explaining himself. “I reckoned we’d have to discuss this eventually—“

Soap made to cut him off, to, y’know, cut to the chase, but Ghost held out a hand as if to verbally say “down, boy” to an overzealous mutt. Apt.

“save me the bullshit about the bullshit intel, Soap. You’re a terrible liar and you’re even worse when you’re nervous,” he said, raising his brows to send a nice, pointed glance Soap’s way. 

This was a lot for Ghost. A lot of words, a lot of emotion. Soap was almost impressed. He just needed to mention—

“If you got me alone to apologize, fuck. You don’t—” Ghost sighed. “Last night was on me.”

“Ghost, it’s fine,” Soap urged, sensing his in was right around the corner, was practically buzzing with it. Waiting his turn to speak was always a struggle, especially now.

Ghost scoffed before Soap had the chance to move onto Sentence #2. “Is it? I went fucking mute when shit didn’t go to plan”

“Okay, that was a little weird,” Soap conceded, “but what if it didn’t matter?” 

Ghost’s face screwed into the very picture of confusion as the question flapped around his head like a disoriented bird. 

“Like,” Soap said, widening his eyes for emphasis, “ really didn’t matter?”

That just left Ghost looking even more confused, and this time, a little pissed about it. “Christ, Johnny, throw me a fucking rope, what the hell are you on about?”

A bleeding spotlight might as well have ve flooded the floor, velvet curtains might as well have parted. Fucking showtime. Finally. Soap cleared his throat in preparation for the opening line.

“Alright, no more beating around the bush, then. I’ve got the hots for you, obviously ,” he added as a harsh aside, “and I was pretty fucking pumped to do something about it last night, and pretty fucking gutted that we didn’t.” 

Now it was his turn to hit Ghost with the “ down, boy” hand. 

“Not to sound desperate, but eh, who gives a fuck? I was willing to do what I needed to do to make this…” he waved his hands in front of his chest, juggling for the right word, “viable. Right. So uh,” Soap slapped his hands together in an attempt to distract himself from the blush that was cooking his face to medium-well, “I. Fuck. I—“

“Spit it out,” Ghost barked, sounding more desperate than angry. 

Well, now or never, baby.

3… 2… 1…

“I fingered my ass.”

The words tumbled out with the elegance of a drunken body falling down a flight of stairs. Less of a said and was more of a shouted . Well, it was more of a fi nal exhale of someone getting boa-constricted to death . 

Soap hadn’t the slightest how Ghost was taking the news. Sure, he had balls to deliver it, but not so much as to watch it land. Or miss. He didn’t plan on finding out until he was finished monologuing. With the key point out in the open, it was slightly easier to flesh out the details. 

“I meant it when I said I wanted you, and I thought maybe, if you’d only have me one way, I’d try it. So yeah, fingered my ass just to see, and as generous Lady Luck would have it,” Soap sucked an inhale— wait, this sounded familiar . might as well ride the wave—and carried on, “not only am I open to the possibility of you fucking my ass into next week, I’m actually gagging for it. This is all to say—”

“Soap.”

It was like the sound was ripped out of Ghost’s chest in a bloody fist. Soap finally looked up and heavens to fucking Betsy, Ghost was in a state. Wild eyes, heaving chest, the works. Ideally, probably, he was horny as sin, but furious wasn’t exactly out of the question just yet. It still wasn’t out of the question when Ghost surged forward, hand snatching out to fist the front of Soap’s shirt, to yank him close. 

“Are you telling me,” he said in a wrecked whisper, his stare boring holes through Soap’s corneas, “that you left my office, here, to go off and fuck your fingers just so you could fuck me ?”

“Aye.” Soap’s dick was moments away from tearing through the front of his trousers. “That’s precisely what I’m telling ya.” No point in denying it, not like he felt like he needed to.

—-

And his intuition was right. In a pleasing repetition of history, they were kissing just like the night prior, the same ferocity and desperation, but with certainty this time. 

Ghost’s hands bracketed either side of Soap’s head, thumbs stroking down the hollows of his cheeks like he was something precious, something Ghost would be damned to lose. “You’re out of your fucking mind,” he said with a voice full of awe. 

“Nothing new there,” Soap hit back. Fuck, his own voice sounded just about unfamiliar—lower and raspier than usual. He thought shit like that only happened in porn. Nah, your voice actually does go all sexy when you’re turned on beyond reason. And he was, holy fuck he was. 

He kissed Ghost for the first time just yesterday, but it still felt novel, still was driving him completely, absolutely mad. Fuck. The tongue that licked onto his—that was Ghost’s . The lips that kissed so rough, the teeth that nipped against him, the fucking breathy groans, they all belonged to Ghost and were all the more delicious for it. 

 

It was a heady thing, hooking up with the man you’d been pining for since you met him, and now that he had a taste of it, Soap reckoned he was well on his way to addiction. Yeah, he’d give up everything he had just to keep that hand pressed to the low curve of his back, to feel Ghost hard through his trousers, how he rolled his hips. The sensation was reason enough, but knowing who was making it all happen made it worth dying for. 

Just tasting tasting it was hardly enough—after the nonsense of the past 14 or so hours, he wanted to fucking devour it, get sick on it. He wanted to overindulge in everything. If he didn’t get a hand on or in him, fast, he was going to lose his damn mind.

The clothing was a notable impediment, so Soap led by example and pulled away for just a moment to tug his shirt collar-first over his head, glancing to see if Ghost was following suit as he unbuttoned the fly on his trousers. 

“C’mon now, Ghost. Catch up,” he teased, and albeit with a derisive snort, Ghost obeyed. What a good boy, Soap thought, or maybe they were just on the same page for once, because surely, the starved gaze Ghost dragged across his naked skin was mirrored in his own eyes. Hot, hot damn.

Soap had seen his fair share of fine bodies, and Ghost’s definitely was one of them, but none of them garnered such a visceral reaction. Lily-white skin— almost delicate-looking—pulled over the biggest, baddest muscles, marked over with scars and cut through at the arms with bulging blue-tinged veins. A marble statue, the prettiest thing on earth, but fierce. Deadly. The duality wiped all sense from his brain for a hot second and in a rare occurrence, he was actually speechless. 

He had seen that capable body work with such precision, and it was going to be his, at least for the night. A pathetic, unbidden moan was all he had to offer by way of assessment.

Ghost smirked, the aggravating bastard. “Was gonna ask if you liked what you saw, but I don’t think I need to.” 

Soap wanted to rip his head off and eat him alive.

Instead, he told him to fuck off and let his hands do what they craved to do, one at the base of Ghost’s skull, the other at his waist, both wrenching him in impossibly close for another kiss.

“Gonna lose the mask?” Soap asked, feeling how the smoothness of skin, pliable fat, and solid muscle layered together, so perfectly grabbable. 

Ghost pulled away, which fucking sucked, but Soap could manage if only for the thumb that took the place of lips, stroking against the lower, sliding smooth through spit. “Only if you show me.” 

“Show you what?” 

Surely Ghost knew what kind of damage he was inflicting when he leaned so close—because apparently they could’ve been closer. Didn’t feel that way—and whispered with heavy, humid breath right into Soap’s ear, “Show me how you touched yourself last night.” And that fucking look .

Soap’s mouth went dry. How the hell did he do that? How did he set Soap on fire with just his eyes? They looked so fucking hungry and Soap was more than willing to be eaten up.

“I want you to open yourself up for me again. Get on the bed.”

Hot and holy hell. 

The command was welcomed because lord knew Soap had any sense left to direct himself in that moment. He followed the orders— like a good boy— and waited until Ghost’s eyes were back on him before he peeled off his boxer briefs. Why pass on the chance to put on a nice show? 

And fuck if it wasn’t worth it to see Ghost’s reaction, his full reaction, unbidden by that fucking mask. 

Aquiline nose and high cheekbones awash in blushing freckles joined what he already knew—gorgeous, absolutely tortured brown eyes and soft, parted lips—to paint the prettiest picture he’d ever seen. Take a photo of it and paste it in the dictionary under “John MacTavish’s Type”, synonyms including “perfection” and “shit worth dying for”. Ghost’s face was delicate and rugged, just like his body, and fuck, it had Soap feeling shy , like he needed to collapse into himself and hide, but at the same time, he knew how he looked and wanted to fall open, offer everything he had for the taking.

Confidence and apprehension warred in his mind, but he opted for the former, staring down his nose at Ghost as he stroked himself lazily, like he wasn’t gagging to get himself off right and there. “Got lotion or something?”

“Nah, just this lube,” Ghost drawled, throwing the squeeze bottle onto the bed and doing a way better job of seeming nonchalant. “Hope it will suffice.”

Soap smirked, “God, you’re fucking obnoxious.”

The bed dipped under Ghost’s weight as he settled himself between Soap’s legs, drawing his hand firm up and down the length of them. “And so are you, making me wait like this.”

“Anticipation, darling,” Soap explained. With a concerted effort, his hands shook only slightly as brought the tube up to uncap with his teeth, and then to squeeze its contents onto his fingertips. Ghost had nice taste in lube—perfectly slick and heavy to ease the grip along the length of his cock. He went slow because under the weight of Ghost’s eyes, the simple touch of his own hand brought him dangerously close to spilling. 

He distracted himself. “I started with something I was used to,” he explained, addressing that puzzled look on Ghost’s face, “last night. To warm myself up.” The tactic was working like a charm, and he could feel himself relax despite his racing heart. “Nice lube,” he remarked. A very normal thing to say.

“I like it.”

“Use it often?”

“Yeah.”

“Must make things messy, though.”

“I like it better that way,” Ghost said, “Messy.” His voice was husky and strained, probably not from the exertion of palming himself over his boxers, but from pure, unbidden want. Soap could see the outline of him in stunning detail, even through the fabric, and fuck, he was huge. So much for distracting himself. Imagining Ghost tugging at that gorgeous cock, filling the room with heaving breaths and wet sounds had Soap in a special kind of hell. 

Emboldened by the knowledge that he’d soon have that for himself, Soap ran the middle finger of his left hand along his cock, getting it slick before pressing it against his hole.  

“That so?” he asked breathlessly. He looked to Ghost for a response, but the man was focused on the hand stroking slow and steady circles between his legs. 

“Fuck, put it in,” Ghost groaned. 

Not how Soap imagined hearing those words at the start of all this, but it sent a jolt through his core nonetheless. 

Ghost’s voice saying those things.

A desperate voice.

Ghost’s desperate voice.

Desperate for him. 

It was too soon, probably, but Soap slicked the rest of his finger and acquiesced anyway. The stretch was a lot, had him groaning around the discomfort, but he swirled his fist over the head of his cock—a bit of pleasure to cut the pain while he adjusted. 

Ghost cursed and squeezed at the base of his cock, holding himself off. Well, didn’t that just go to Soap’s head? 

“Fuck, tight little thing can hardly take a finger? I’m gonna ruin you.”

Please do.

“Let me see you then,” Soap urged, as if he didn’t already know that Ghost was packing. He needed to see all of it. 

The way Ghost’s abs clenched and stretched as he shifted to fully undress was nothing short of pornographic, but that headtrip was quickly subsumed. Writhing swathes of shadow collected in the dips of muscle, pooling along the handsomest v-cut to guide Soap’s eyes down. 

Fuck, why was his mouth watering? No fucking wonder Ghost walked around in the way that he did, unwavering confidence bordering on arrogance. He was experienced, competent, and had a dick straight from PornHub. 

“I think you’re right,” Soap admitted on a weak exhale.

Ghost huffed a knowing laugh when Soap quickly added another finger. 

By all rights, Soap knew he should be terrified. His first time and he’d be taking that ? But he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge—if anything, it spurred him on, forcing himself to relax around the stretch enough to manage a third. 

“Easy now,” Ghost chided, almost mocking. “I could watch this for hours.”

“Who says I’m rushing for you ?” Soap panted. He angled the pressure, bullying right into his prostate and what was too much quickly became not enough. This really was addictive, all of it—the burn just as much as the pleasure, syrupy sweet. He’d just about given up tempering out the pain with his right hand.

“So eager to get fucked? Careful, I’d hate to see you crying trying to take me.”

“Liar,” Soap shot back.

“Oh, come on now, Soap,” Ghost drawled with the same infuriating voice, “I want you to feel good.”

“And I want your dick in me. I’m ready.” He couldn’t wait a second longer, he really couldn’t. With a nod, he gestured for Ghost to come closer, “Don’t believe me? Feel for yourself.”

This would be it—up to that point, the only touch he’d received was his own. Watching as Ghost slicked his middle and index fingers, Soap fell completely, irreversibly drunk with the knowledge that Ghost would be inside him . Those cold fingers, foreign, pressed to his hole and he just about came right there. 

The gasp Ghost let out was almost shocked as he sunk in to the knuckle. “You weren’t joking,” he muttered, finding the spot he was looking for once the surprise passed, practically petting it. Better than Soap could, more an expert in this body than its owner. “Fuck, Soap.”

“Ghost, please,” Soap whined, because fuck his pride, fuck his ego, fuck everything. He was so, so close. “Please.”

That was all the convincing Ghost needed, it seemed, because after a flurry of motion, Soap cried out, the space between his legs lit white-hot. 

Mercy, Ghost was huge, impossibly huge, and Soap was going to die like this, twisting and writhing to distract from the sensation.

“Fuck, you alright?” Ghost asked, voice thick with concern, and bless him, he seemed to be making a concerted effort to not move in either direction, though it didn’t help much. His arms trembled where they were posted on either side of Soap’s head.

“Hah, fuck. Yeah, I’m good,” Soap hissed, manually forcing his lungs to breathe in-two-three, out-two-three. He shifted his hips, “I’ve had worse.” 

The near-scandalized look on Ghost’s face would have him hysterical if he wasn’t so distracted, “No, not like that, you idiot. I’ve been shot, stabbed. Are you forgetting you’re my first?”

Ha, apparently Ghost had, because he went stock still except for the pupils that expanded, eating up the rest of his eyes to leave something purely animalistic, like a shark.

“Fucking hell.”

Soap threw his head back and groaned, tugging at his flagging cock. He was fine. The pressure was easing up. “You can move,” he assured with a nod, and he meant it, “just be gentle as you deflower me.”

Ghost’s brows screwed together, eyes squeezed shut, and with an exhale, he eased his hips back, rocked them forward to press minutely deeper. “You can’t just—“ a punched out breath, “say shit like that.”

“Why?” Soap whispered, “like it too much?” 

“Yeah, I do. Fuck,” Ghost said, shifting his weight to sit back on his haunches. “Look at that, darling, you took me all the way in.”

Made sense. Soap could feel him in his lungs, but he still looked down and the sight, Ghost’s muscled hips pressed flush against him, how his own body stretched where they were joined, it knocked the breath right out of him. Soap had never seen anything hotter in his life, and it left him hard again, precum pooling at his navel. 

“Sitrep?”

“Fuck off,” Soap chuckled, jolting at the new sensation of laughing while stuffed full like that, “I’m solid.”

“I’m gonna move now,” Ghost warned. He looked so focused. It was almost sweet.

Fucking perfect. “Good before I kill you, eh?”

Soap should’ve known better than to mouth off, especially when he was so vulnerable, because Ghost took that as his cue to draw his hips back just to snap them forward.

Intense.

Fucking intense.

Not painful, just. A lot. It punched a high-pitched keen from Soap’s mouth, punched all words from his mind except for “more.” It slipped down his lips easily, flowed like spit.

“You’re fucking incredible,” Ghost praised between shallow breaths as he fucked Soap in earnest now, unencumbered by the arms wrapped around his shoulders, hanging on for dear life. “Sound so sweet when you’re getting fucked.”

Ghost was relentless, perfectly unlike Soap’s fingers in every way that mattered. The size of him alone pressed heavy against that sweet spot, had Soap moaning against each thrust, whining then when Ghost aimed against it. 

Soap was fucking ruined for it.

His fingers would never be enough, not ever again.

His fingers didn’t get him drunk like this, completely out of body but simultaneously more grounded than he’s ever been. His fingers couldn’t fuck him senseless, couldn’t wrench the most pathetic noises from his chest. 

Just Ghost, the fucking perfect piece of shit, glassy-eyed and flushed, lips bitten red, choking out the sweetest grunts. It was like he was made to fuck Soap into oblivion, every part of him. Even his fucking abs, slick with precum and sweat and lube, how they shifted against the length of Soap’s aching cock. 

“Ghost, fuck,” Soap managed, “I’m so close. I’m gonna—I’m gonna—”

“Yeah?” Ghost breathed, not slowing his pace even as he lowered onto a forearm, twisting his fingers into Soap’s hair to force their eyes to meet. “Come on then, come for me. Wanna feel it.”

That fucking voice, whatever it said, he’d do.

Someone was moaning—screaming, really—maybe he was, his voice another thing out of his control now, just like his vision, like his body that rolled, clenched and unwound as he drowned under his release. 

Ghost looked so utterly wrecked when Soap came to, sucking greedy breaths through his gritted teeth as his rhythm failed him. “Fucking perfect,” was all Soap could think, begging silently to feel what it was like to have someone finish in him, unbelieving that it’d be Ghost.

“Please. Need it,” he begged, hoping Ghost knew what he meant. 

“Johnny”

Hips slammed against his ass, stayed there, and fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Soap could fucking feel Ghost’s cock pulse, feel as it filled him up.

His fingers could never. 

Ghost collapsed on top of him, heavy, heaving and sweaty, and Soap hoped the weight would crush him to death.

PART 5

Midam Appreciation Week Day 1: Can't Spell 'Illusion' Without 'Us'

„Adam?“ Michael asked, the couch dipping lightly as he sat down on it.

“Mh?” Adam made, not looking up from the Switch. He had just cleared another gym and was now checking the map to see what else was close. There was a Team Star base not too far off. Or maybe he should fly back to the school city and go out the other direction, do something there...

“Adam,” Michael said again, a little more sternly.

“Hmmm?” Adam blinked and looked up from the game while it was loading, flying him back to the city. “What's up?”

“You know, when you were so excited and said you would play for days, I didn't take it quite this literally.” Michael raised an eyebrow at him, looking about equal parts annoyed and amused.

“Well, that's kinda on you,” Adam said, but he shifted into a more upright position where he had been slumping against the back of the couch before. He hit the menu button when his character had landed, effectively pausing the game. “How long has it even been?”

Another raised eyebrow. But deep inside Adam, where Michael's grace sat snugly around his soul, there was a twinge of something... almost disappointed?

“Two days, three hours, and fifty-three minutes,” Michael said dryly.

“Oh geez. I really spent a lot of time catching those Pokémon, huh.” Adam's felt a little bad. But only a little. After all, his goal was not only to win every fight in the game, but also to 'catch 'em all'.

“You get very absorbed in that game,” Michael said, and Adam couldn't really interpret his tone.

“Yeah, I mean. It brings up memories from when I was a kid.” Adam shrugged. “And it's a good game.”

Michael made a non-committal sound.

“You're not jealous of the game, right?” Adam asked, and had to suppress a smile when Michael huffed.

“Of course not. That would be stupid.”

Adam bit his lip to keep himself from sighing. That was Michael's catch-all argument against accusations of being jealous, lonely or needy – that it would be stupid.

And yeah, it would be. After all, Michael was literally his best friend of over a thousand years, his match made in Heaven, and the guy who lived in his chest cavity.

And yet.

“You know, I've been thinking,” Adam said, because he couldn't let this stand, and also because yeah, he had been thinking about it. The plan had been pretty vague, but he supposed they could always wing it.

Heh. Wing it. Adam grinned, feeling Michael's wings rustle in suppressed agitation.

“Is this like the last time you had 'been thinking'?” Michael asked warily, wrinkling the nose of his projection. “I'm not going to clean up a bathroom flooded with milk again.”

“Oh come on, that was one time! And you can clean it with a snap of our fingers.” Adam snapped his fingers for emphasis, which of course did nothing for him. “And that's not even what I wanted to say.”

“So enlighten me, oh wise one.” Michael gestured for him to go on.

“Alright. So remember how in the cage, you made games for me to live in, like that farming simulation?”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “You mean the several farming simulations. You always wanted to change locations and NPCs.”

Adam gave a lopsided smile at the memory of trying to change or remove datable characters. He'd never cared much about the romance aspect of those games as a kid, and besides, he'd already had someone living with him on the farm: Michael.

But he hadn't exactly been able to tell Michael that he didn't want to date anyone there because he already had him.

“So could you do that, but for Pokémon?”

Michael's wings shifted in surprise. “But... we're in the real world now. On Earth. With actual people, and things happening.”

“Yeah, I know.” Adam shrugged, and looked away. “But I kind of miss when it was just us. When everyone else wasn't real, so we could just erase them from the world when we didn't like them.”

Michael looked at him for a long time. “I can do it, of course. But is that really what you want?”

Adam looked back at him. “Michael... You know that living in the Pokémon world was literally my childhood dream, right? The only reason I didn't ask for it in the cage was because you said you could only make things that you've seen before. Fields. Buildings. People. I figured that excluded any made up monsters from a children's game.”

Hesitantly, Michael nodded.

“Now that you've seen it all – and don't tell me you weren't watching while I was playing – you could do it, right?” Adam asked hopefully.

Michael hummed. “I could, though you can hardly say that I've 'seen it all'. This is the only of those games you've been playing, and there are many more, right?”

“Well, yeah, but we don't have all of them.” Adam frowned when Michael rolled his eyes.

“You can have everything you want forever,” Michael said, reminding Adam that he only needed to ask.

It felt wrong, though, to ask Michael to give him everything. And not just because Adam had no idea how it worked – did Michael steal a copy of the game from someone? Was it plucked from a stack in a store?

Adam supposed the latter wouldn't be so bad – no one would notice if one measly copy got lost.

But Michael wasn't his servant, or his tool. Sure, it was nice that Adam could rely on him when something went wrong (like said accident with the milk bath). But when Adam said 'Jump', Michael's response wasn't supposed to be 'how high?'. It should be 'But don't you want to cuddle me more?'

“We can do research,” Michael said, nodding. “We tube.”

Adam let out a sigh so long and deep that it could have killed someone who actually needed to breathe. “It's 'YouTube', Michael.”

“Yes, but we will be tubing together.” Squeezing himself against Adam's side, Michael fished their phone out their pocket. “There are those... 'Let's Plays', yes?”

“Dude, yeah, let's watch some nuzlockes!” Adam pulled up the page of one of his favourite groups of streamers. They should have covered most of the older games – he'd seen the video thumbnails, but hadn't had time to watch any of it so far. “This is gonna take us a while, you know.”

Michael butted their shoulders together. “You're the one who just wanted to spend untold hours in a projection.”

Adam elbowed him back. “Hey, that wasn't a complaint. Besides, I wanted to spend untold hours in a projection with you. Don't forget that.”

Michael blinked at him, and his wings rustled shyly. “We- we should be able to set these videos to double the speed, yes?” he eventually asked, managing a scowl again. “You should still be able to understand those.”

Adam couldn't take his eyes off his archangel, projection or not. “Don't worry about me, silly,” he said, a hand on Michael's thigh.

They spent days together on the couch, at some point switching from the small screen of their phone to their laptop. Sometimes, Adam had his head on Michael's shoulder, while other times, Michael's head was in Adam's lap.

It was a good time. Just watching and sometimes commenting. Relaxed. Happy. At times, it felt almost like back then – like they were the only two people in the world, and no one else mattered, or ever would matter again.

“Alright,” Michael said after the last video ended. “I think we have enough data.”

“Mh.” Adam wasn't too hyped about having to get up, or having to disentangle himself from Michael. But then Michael just told him to lay down on the couch.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his face far too serious for what they were about to do.

“Born ready.” Adam grinned when Michael rolled his eyes, and Michael made his projection vanish.

Close your eyes, he said from inside their head.

Adam followed his lead – and felt his consciousness fade away from their body.

When he blinked his eyes open again, he was somewhere else. In a room that looked oddly familiar...

There was a Pikachu plushie on a dresser, and several posters with Pokémon and items on them lined the walls.

Grinning giddily, Adam turned around to where he knew Michael would be standing – and was greeted by several balloons and a party horn almost hitting his face.

“Happy birthday, Addy,” Michael said softly.

Adam stared at him. The last thing he remembered was that it had been the middle of September – apparently, they had been watching those nuzlockes for a bit longer than he'd thought.

“And happy birthday to you, babe,” he said back.

“I wasn't born,” Michael recited their age-old argument, rolling his eyes.

“No, but it's your Feast Day. And what's the day that we feast on?” Adam said, also not for the first time.

Michael sighed. “Our birthday,” he completed their routine grumpily. “Fine. Now go get your Pokémon.”

“Only me? What about you?” Adam checked that he had everything ��� the obligatory bag, and the phone that would probably get updated with a Rotom, if he understood the newer lore correctly.

“I already have a team, of course, since I'm a lot older than you,” Michael said smugly. Then he strode out of the room – and Adam followed with an indignant gasp.

“How dare you! I'm over a thousand years old!”

“Exactly. You're basically still a baby.”

“Oh, honey, are you leaving?” a voice asked, and Adam stopped dead in his tracks on the last step of the staircase.

“Mom?” he asked under his breath.

“Oh look at you, baby, all grown up.” His mom came out of the kitchen and took his hands. “Ready to become the champ.”

“First, he will have to beat eight gyms,” Michael reminded them both.

Kate cupped both Adam's and Michael's face with a hand. “I'm so glad you'll be there for him,” she said. “I would be worried to death if Addy went out alone.”

“Moooom,” Adam complained. He knew that this wasn't his actual mom, since she was still in Heaven. But his indignation was real. “I'm not a child.”

“I know, baby.” She went on her tip-toes to kiss his forehead. “Now go meet the Professor.”

“I'll come by again afterwards,” Adam said, taking his mom's hands. “I promise.”

“Baby, I'll always be here when you want to come home.”

Adam squeezed her hands. Of course she would be there, he told himself. The mom was always home in the games.

Though of course, his real mom was always there, too, when he wanted to see her in Heaven.

He dropped her hands and gave her a smile. “I'll be off, then.”

“Be safe.” She turned to Michael. “Both of you.”

“Always.” Michael squeezed one of her hands too before they left, walking down the dirt path to the Professor's house.

Adam wasn't going to mention that his real mom wasn't quite as enthusiastic about seeing Michael than this one. In turn, Michael wouldn't mention that he was the current champ of this region.

Adam would find that out soon enough, anyway. And until then, he had a childhood dream to fulfil.

So I watched the Super Mario Movie finally

(Actually I watched it on and off with some friends but wanted to wait until I saw the full thing until I said anything. Also at the time of posting it's actually been like a month and a half oops.)

This does mean that I'll be allowing posts about it (I will make sure to tag spoilers tho).

Many excitements, many concerns, all questions finally answered (for now). Of course, I have many thoughts. Sooo, dump time!

I consider the movieverse to be an AU rather than directly tying to the game universe. Yoshi's Island supports the idea of Mario and Luigi being born in the Mushroom Kingdom (or that universe, anyways) while the movie has them living in a more realistic setting.

As we expected, Jack Black as Bowser? 👌

I originally thought that there would be multiple power stars instead of just the one, and that Bowser would be going kingdom to kingdom to collect them. I feel like it wasn’t given as much importance as it probably should have gotten.

SMB Super Show theme makes a return! They’re really pulling stuff from everywhere.

Just so I don’t sound like a broken record I’ll only say it once. The role for Mario should’ve gone to Charles Martinet. Pratt wasn’t grating but it really did just sound like Just Some Guy the whole time. I get Mario is our isekai protagonist but come on.

Following up on that thought: Good fucking lord the “do you think the accents were a bit much” line pissed me off SO much. Poking fun at your franchise is one thing, but announcing the first movie for the franchise in 30 years, giving the titular character’s voice cast to a guy who sounds nothing like him for the sake of Big Name Actor instead of to his original voice actor, telling people upset at the choice to essentially shut the fuck up, and THEN proceeding to joke about the— Jesus Christ I can’t type this anymore. On to the rest of the review.

Ohhh my god the Bros.' relationship is SO good in this movie. Luigi's adoration of his bro, Mario's adoration but also embarrassment at Luigi bringing up their mom, Mario IMMEDIATELY getting ready to throw hands for Luigi's honor, their MUTUAL protectiveness towards each other, it's all just *chef's kiss*.

When they announced Spike as a character I didn't think it was going to be Foreman Spike from Wrecking Crew (good reference tho) I thought Spike was going to be this thing

As unexpected as it came to me, I actually really liked them making Mario the underdog of the family. It adds motive to Mario's eagerness to be Helpful and gives him a good reason to stay in the Mushroom Kingdom at the end. I can also see this attitude shifting to Luigi in the sequel.

Pauline cameo hell yeah.

I actually like Toad in this movie--both his voice AND his role.

I love that they made the Dry Bones so... eerie. I would've liked to see some sentience from them (at least in a later scene), but I can understand that doing so would likely take away from the eeriness.

If you wanna see Mario being a pathetic wet paper towel then you will enjoy this movie.

I have... mixed feelings about this version of Peach. On one hand, I love that she's taking a more proactive role and that we get to see her as both a ruler and protector of the Toads. On the other hand, I'm. not particularly fond of how she treats Mario in the first half. Peach as a character has been defined by amicability and kindness towards both new and familiar people from the beginning, so her initial rudeness doesn't feel very "Peach", if that makes sense. It makes sense that she'd assume Mario to be an enemy, but after that point it stops feeling in-character.

The more serious tone they gave with Bowser was also something to wrap my brain around. Over the course of the games Bowser's been gradually "declawed" as a villain, so I love that they really put emphasis on his cruelty.

I'm surprised they actually touched on Peach's origins, if only briefly.

I love Donkey Kong's portrayal in this movie. A lot of games don't give him much personality beyond "monkey lol" so I love that they took his other personality traits and expanded on those.

Cranky Kong running a kingdom wasn't the role I expected, but it is a fun take that I like.

Wrinkly Kong isn't dead lol

Diddy Kong having to be told to be quiet was a fun touch.

Funky Kong cameo improves my opinion on the movie. However he is hard to get a look at and doesn't have speaking lines, so that score must sadly be reduced a little.

One of the few allusions to Bowser and King Boo's alliance we get. King Boo didn't stick around to help during the fight, but he did make it to the wedding so that was cool.

RIP to King Bob-omb. Poor dude didn't deserve what happened to him 😔

Peaches (the song) was funny but not what it was hyped up to be.

Sequel with Yoshi hinted after the credits 👀

No Bowser Jr. or Koopalings despite everything. I'm wondering if they'll put him in the sequel.

Uhhhh I'm not sure what else I can remember, but this is long enough as it is. I had some nitpicks with it but I did like it despite my complaints.

Someone to Watch Over Me

Part 1:  “Love is Blind”

Author’s Note:  Do you think the Duffer’s realized what they were doing when they brought Eddie Munson to life on paper?  I don’t think so.  Because it’s been, what, nine or so months now, and I’m still all in on my favorite ne’er do well metal head.

This is my first time with an Original Character standing in for “reader”.  Just like with my reader insert fics, our OC is female and plus size. Pairing:  Eddie Munson x Plus Size OC Amanda Patterson Summary:  It’s love at first sound, pitch perfect and fated, everything in harmony.  If only life were a love song.  

Amanda and Eddie meet by chance but their connection is real.  Some night music and milkshakes maybe all it takes to show that Hawkins’ resident bad boy is worthy of love.  The kind of love a misfit like Amanda is ready to give to the right guy.  Have they each found the right someone to watch out for them? Warnings:  This is a slower burn than my usual, but I think it’ll be worth it.  There will be SMUT in additional chapters, but for now, there’s making out, eating a lot of junk food, some size shaming and self doubt.  Oh, and a character gets slapped.

“There’s a saying old, says that love is blind”

1990

“So, Eddie, how’s the tour been going?”

Pulling a long strand of dark hair over his cheek, a nervous habit he couldn’t seem to break, Eddie raised his dark eyes to the reporter asking the questions, ignoring the video camera and boom mic hovering overhead.  It took everything in him to keep the sarcastic edge in his tone to a minimum, “Well, Chuck, it’s been a helluva time.  Me and the boys, we’re just taking what comes.  It’s been fuckin’ amazing to see so many cities and of course, our fans.” “Oopsie!  Can’t curse like that, Eddie.  Can we cut around that?”  Chuck was asking some producer, talking over Eddie’s head, ignoring him all in the name of being appropriate for television.  Already he was over this whole experience.  What Eddie really wanted was to get back to the green room, have a beer or a smoke- scratch that.  And a smoke, before having to play tonight’s show.

The conversation around editing was still happening, Eddie’s interview on pause.  It gave him a minute to evaluate the man asking the questions.  Smarmy, yea, that’s the word Eddie would use for a guy like Chuck.  Hair slicked back and suit a little too colorful to be classy, the guy was cheesy as hell, but he was going to film a piece about the band.  Something for MTV to use in promos or some shit.  Eddie didn’t really care to know.  There were people for that now.  The same people who kept assuring him that there was no such thing as bad publicity.  Not when there was a nationwide tour that needed to sell tickets and t-shirts and records, so he bit his tongue and smiled sheepishly, waiting for the next question. “We rolling?  Great.  Ok, ready Eddie?” Nodding in answer, Eddie gave him the green light.  The interviewer tapped his finger against the skinny microphone in his hand, picking up seamlessly from where they had stopped earlier, “That’s good to hear.  Now, Corroded Coffin plays specifically metal but who has influenced your musical journey?  Which artists do you listen to?” Blowing out an exhale, his lips parting, Eddie thought for a minute.  “Ya know, all the greats Chuck.  I mean, I cut my teeth on Led Zeppelin.  Heart, Black Sabbath, obviously-” he rolled his eyes for emphasis, “-Iron Maiden and Metallica.  You play metal music and I’m there, man.” Chuck nodded along, agreeing with everything coming out of Eddie’s mouth, trying way too hard to seem interested.  He seemed more like a Madonna kinda guy, too caught up in the look of something to worry about its substance.  It grated on Eddie’s nerves, set his teeth on edge. “Gotcha.  So, the people want to know-” Chuck drug out the question, clearly enjoying the way he baited his interviewee, “-What is Eddie Munson’s favorite song?” Toffee colored eyes widened.  Despite the movement around him, the roadies hauling in speakers and gear, the conversations between stage crew and security guards, the clicking of boot heels on parquet flooring, Eddie could hear it.  His favorite song.  Clear and distinct, the memory a perfectly preserved bubble of sight and sound.  From over his shoulder someone coughed, bringing Eddie back to the here and now.  “Uh, sorry.  Didn’t mean to zone out there.” “Don’t worry, we’ll edit it out.”  Chuck’s hand made a motion urging him to continue. Eddie’s ring laden right hand rubbed across the skin on the back of his neck, internally debating just how real to be with his response.  In the end, Eddie told the whole truth.  He spilled one of his deeply held secrets to a douche bag with gelled back hair and a smile that was too much teeth. Looking directly into the bubbled lens of the video camera, Eddie offered up a reluctant, almost embarrassed smile, “My favorite song?  That’s a great question, man.  And, uh, ya know, I wanna say something hard rocking and fast.  But honestly?  Someone to Watch Over Me by the Gershwin brothers.” Eddie’s voice was practically a whisper at his admission.  He was ready for a ribbing.  A hard rocker like him, known for bad boy behavior and leaving a lady behind in every city?  No way Eddie Munson could possibly be a romantic at heart, right? Fully expecting a laugh from smarmy Chuck, some jab about the softness of his choice, or a comment on it being a standard, something old fashioned or behind the times.  But Eddie only heard the insipid agreement of the interviewer, “Great song.  A classic.” “Yea.  It is.”

—

1987

It had always come naturally to Amanda.  She opened her mouth and the sound just came out, warm and round, with the right amount of inflection and sweetness of tone.  Singing was what she did.  From the time she could talk, Amanda was making music, using her body as the instrument. Church choir taught her how to sight read sheet music, her voice moving up and down the scale in time with the half and quarter notes.  Learning how to let her high Soprano melt in with the other members of the chorus so that no individual could be heard over another.  Discovering the power of dynamics; an effective hushed line that built into a climaxing crescendo, the rush of belting out a powerful note with all of the choir members doing the same.  Amanda continued to discover the best ways to utilize her voice, really only ever happy when she was humming or whistling or belting out a tune. One Christmas there was a tawny wooden guitar under the tree.  She carried it with her everywhere she could.  Teaching herself the chords from a beginner’s guide until she could play “Frosty the Snowman” without stopping.  And her unquestionable love of music grew with every new song she memorized until the entire book had faded from overuse. There were high school musicals, of course.  Grease, Annie, Guys and Dolls, Anything Goes.  And even if she was always the sidekick with no solo, hanging around in the back of the chorus lines, she loved performing.  Being on a stage, with the lights and excitement, the tension of anxiety turning into the power needed to propel her through the show.  Amanda lived for the thrill of it.  Something could go wrong or things could go incredibly right.  In either case, you could never truly know which way it would play out until it was happening.  Then, the curtain would fall and there would be bows and applause. Amanda loved the spotlight, absolutely and unequivocally.  Only, the spotlight didn’t love her back. Her round, full cheeks wouldn’t do to play Sandy.  The curvy, womanly figure she’d grown into wouldn’t work for Annie or Pepper or even Mrs. Hannigan.  Despite the lovely, lyrical quality to her voice, it wasn’t enough to outweigh her looks. So Amanda sang out loud and long from the back row of the chorus, her robe tight across her ample chest.  She learned the simple choreography for musical numbers and was told, “you’re so light on your feet” as if it was shocking to see.  Every year was a new chance to gain that place in the middle of the stage, singing for all she was worth for everyone to hear, but never making it due to a healthy appetite which made her soft in the places where people would rather she be firm. It was the bitterest of pills, but she swallowed it, happy just to be involved.  Pleased to have her name printed in the program as a participant even if she was living off of the scraps of lesser performers who just so happened to look prettier under the hot stage lamps.  She accepted hugs from the pretty boys who tried on singing and dancing as a way to meet girls, but wouldn’t give her a second glance.  The boys who saw her as the funny, talented friend of the group.  Always happy to drive everyone home, listen to everyone’s troubles, offering sage advice and asking for nothing in return.  That was Amanda.

All too soon, school was ending.  Over.  And college loomed in front of her, full of promise and secret worries.

She knew what she wanted, what she had always wanted.  It had never changed despite the wacky directors who hid her behind scaffolding or pushed her to the dim corners of the stage.  Amanda was on the earth to do one thing only: make beautiful music. It was, after all, her favorite thing to do. Unfortunately, it was also incredibly difficult to make a career out of, something her parents constantly felt the need to remind her about.  They only wanted what was best for her, that’s what they said anyways.  And what was best, in the opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Patterson, was a steady job as a hairdresser or nurse or preschool teacher.  Anything really to fill the gap until she met “the one”, got married and started having their grandchildren. Too bad Amanda loved the music so much more.  It had taken a lot of work, hours and hours of debating and shouting but somehow she had convinced them to let her go to school for music.  The catch?  She’d also study education.  It was a compromise Amanda was willing to make, just to get her foot in the door.  Worst case?  She’d wind up a music department chair at some high school or another, a great back up plan to her real dream: musical super stardom like Linda Rondstadt or Carol King. Only, school was expensive, especially when you were trying to make music your career.  And her parents did as much as they could, which she was incredibly grateful for, but everything cost so damn much.  So, almost broke and entirely desperate, Amanda searched around until finding a part time position at The Music Shop.  She started selling sheet music and drum sticks, auto tuners and guitar straps from a squat building painted an obnoxious shade of ocean blue that could be seen for miles in any direction. Occasionally there’d be a student in need of some musical mentoring and she’d drag out her acoustic guitar, the tawny one she kept in its cardboard case after all these years.  Showing them where to hold their fingers and how to press against the tough strings in order to get a pretty sound out of the instrument brought her a lot of joy.  It was still making music and that was enough for her between class work and socializing and generally trying to be a good person. The college classes related to music and music theory were fascinating.  Her collection of records and tapes had grown significantly.  It seemed as though every new person she talked to had a list of bands she “just had to listen to” and Amanda did. How could she ever thank her roommate’s boyfriend for turning her on to Lou Reed?  Did she live before knowing all the words to Pirates of Penzance?  How did Whitney Houston sound so incredible all of the time?

Writing a paper on the importance of Tom Petty’s ability to pen pretty lyrics, Amanda found herself surrounded by like minded musical folks.  She was invited to parties where everyone sang along to the radio, getting rowdy in the tame way theater kids everywhere are prone to do.  Drinking beers was fun.  Smoking cigarettes killed her throat through and Amanda refused to damage her instrument with nicotine like that.  Besides, she couldn’t afford them anyway. When she wasn’t studying or singing or stocking, Amanda did gig out.  Sometime during her first semester she had been approached by Jim, a cellist, Mark, a drummer and Carly, a pianist.  Having met the threesome at someone or other’s pre-Thanksgiving break bash, Amanda hadn’t realized it right away but she was casually auditioning for their band.  Not once did her size come up.  All the three seemed to care about was how quickly they could get her into a rehearsal.  They had a jazz trio and wanted someone to vocalize for them, someone with a soft tone, an easy timber that could get them playing in front of bigger crowds.  That she blended in with their group dynamic made it an easy fit and soon, the four of them were playing shows together all over the area and regularly too. Now, well into her third year at school, Amanda had a good idea of what her life was going to look like.  She would work the store, teaching a couple of private students the ways of the guitar, and sing out with the band on the weekends.  If they happened to get a wee bit drunk after a show, who could blame them?  After all, they were barely twenty and the world still had so much left to show them. At the music shop, one late September Saturday, Amanda took a minute to hang up the flier for Hawkins’ Autumn Concert Series.  Their quartet had been asked to entertain, practicing for weeks now getting the set list perfect for their biggest concert yet.  Smiling happily to herself, she gently forced the pushpin into the cork board where the typical announcements of used instruments for sale, lessons for keyboard or piano, and imploring alerts for new band members all co-existed in a colorful, clashing collage. Stepping backwards, Amanda wasn’t entirely paying attention, her mind already drifting to the highlight of the performance.  What she was going to wear, how she’d do her hair, all the little details that she liked to get right in an effort to make sure that the show went off without a hitch.  That’s how she missed the fellow who was crouched down behind her, ringed hands reaching for the Iron Maiden song book that was propped up on the bottom shelf. Her booted foot hit something solid, something that shouldn’t be in the aisle, and she turned quickly.  A blur of black leather and curls flew upwards fast.  The joint of her ankle rolled and Amanda reached out blindly, connecting with a solid wall of a person, holding on with a death grip to keep on her feet. Holy shit, did this chick have pretty eyes.  It was his first thought and boy, was it a doozy.  Eddie could see the shock clearing as worry crept in, crowding around the wide irises, her lips parted in a panicked “o”.  Clipped nails clawed into the denim vest he always wore, holding herself upright against the unfair tug of gravity, her forearms pressed tightly to his chest.  Bringing a steadying hand to her wrist, he shook his head, shyly smiling, “You alright there?  Took a bit of a tumble, didn’t ya?” Inhaling shakily, Amanda nodded dumbly, her heart still thrumming.  Still standing much too close to a stranger.  She had been certain of falling but having this, this guy break that fall, was disconcerting in an entirely different way.  “Oh, I am so sorry!  I didn’t see you, and-” “Hey, it’s ok.  No harm done, so long as you’re ok.  You are ok, right?”  There was a brief flash of concern that crossed his face, but it faded when Amanda bobbed her head at his question. She hadn’t moved.  Eddie was still looking down at her upturned face, the way her hair fell softly against her cheeks and the sweet sweep of her nose making her look about as precious as he had ever had the pleasure to see.  Eddie didn’t want to look away. For another beat they stood there, together, surrounded by score books and tutorial materials while an instrumental version of “Don’t Stop Believing” played through the store speakers.  Shifting in his Reeboks, Eddie swayed to the melody and Amanda let herself be carried along with him.  In another second, Amanda was certain that she would wrap his arms around her waist and call it a day.  Already, Eddie’s free hand was sliding towards her shoulder, another point of contact with this unknown, but very cute, man. “Yo!  Amanda?  Are you-”  Kyle’s voice cut through the force field around the pair.  At the sound of her manager’s shout she panic jumped back far enough to thud against the very cork board which held her proudly hung announcement, knocking the air out of her lungs with a grunted, “Oof!” “Jesus!  What are you doing?”  

Amanda’s eyes went wide at Kyle’s intrusion, and she pressed a hand to her chest to stop her startled heart from bursting free from the unused adrenaline, “Me?  Kyle, you scared the crap out of me!” Eddie’s head had snapped towards the interruption before pivoting back to the pretty lady he now knew was called Amanda.  His hand reached for hers reflexively, to help steady her, the same shy grin tugging at his lips.  That she took it and held it like a lifeline sent a zig-zag of energy from his fingertips straight to the muscles of his tummy which tightened at the contact. One of Kyle’s eyebrows shot skyward, his face skeptical, “What’s going on over here, anyway?”  He asked as if he already knew the answer, questioning eyes full of judgment. Amanda’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly.  What was going on back here?  She didn’t know, really. Luckily, Eddie did.  “Uh, your beautiful sales associate was just helping me find this-” holding up the song book with Iron Maiden’s logo splashed across the cover, he continued, “-and uh, then you came around the corner and, ya know, scared her half to death.” “Were you dancing?” Sneaking a quick glance her way, Eddie chuckled, “Dancing?  While she’s supposed to be working?  Naw man.  Like I said, she was helping me out.” His arms crossed over his chest, Kyle stared directly at Amanda, all but demanding her side of the story.  Running a palm up her neck, leaning into her hand, she exhaled loudly, “He’s- he’s right, Kyle.  I was just giving him, ya know, a hand.” Narrowing his eyes, not believing either of them, Kyle groaned in frustration, “Fine.  Whatever.  Just, I had a question for you.  Ya know, when you’re free?” Nodding, “Sure.  Yea, of course.  Just um-” she gestured towards Eddie, “-Give me a minute, ok?” “Yea.  Ok.”  Snorting, Kyle moved back towards the register, leaving Eddie and Amanda alone once more. Blinking those amazing eyes his way, Amanda locked her hands together to keep from touching the broad boy in front of her anymore, “So, thank you.  I’m not entirely sure what was going on, but I’m glad I don’t have to explain it to my boss.” “Right.  Well, I’m sorry for tripping you up.  Covering for you seemed like the least I could do.” Amanda heard the store’s music shift, something by Annie Lennox filling the space, and she took a tentative step away from Eddie causing him to lean forward, “Wait-” “Yea?”  Her hair swung over her shoulder, that’s how fast she spun around to face him, her stare open and curious. Nervously, Eddie bit his bottom lip as he rocked on the worn down heels of his sneakers.  For the first time in as long as he could remember he was almost unsure of what to say, “Uh, can I see you again?” Amanda didn’t laugh in his face and she didn’t shy away, both reactions he fully expected if he was honest about it.  Instead, and to his utter amazement, she reached behind her, yanking down the flier she’d only just hung up, “Absolutely.”  And she pushed the paper into his hand before scurrying toward Kyle. Shit.  He was in trouble already. Waiting just another couple of minutes, Eddie made his way to the cashier, patiently standing behind a flustered mom and her teenage son.  That the kid kept trying to get her to look at the cherry red electric guitar and amp set, already staged for Christmas, wasn’t lost on Eddie.  It’s exactly the type of gear he’d lusted after when he was young and eager, before he’d gotten his Sweetheart, and never looked back. Mind wandering, he didn’t hear her at first, “I can help you over here, sir.” Tilting his head towards her voice, Eddie took a shuffling step toward her register, “Ah, thank you, miss.” “No problem.”  But it most definitely was a problem, because Amanda couldn’t lift her gaze his way.  Not when her body rolled over hot at the memory of his chest under her fingers, his brown eyes peering down at her with sweet desire in their burnt caramel depths. Amanda punched in the code numbers, reading the price sticker and busying herself with recording the sale correctly.  “Amanda?  What’s the price for the Fender capo?” “Twelve fifty!”  It’s automatic and Eddie was astonished at how she kept focused on his sale while answering her colleague from memory. Finally, she raised her face to find Eddie’s smiling one already looking in her direction, and struggling to keep the flush of her embarrassment in control managed to ask, “Is uh, is there anything else today?” “Naw, Amanda.  I think this’ll do it.”  Giggling, a bit more timid now that she was safe behind the counter, Amanda bagged up the book and relayed the total.  Eddie pulled the bills out of his wallet, his chains clinking together musically, as Amanda made change for him quickly and precisely.  When he grabbed for the package, his fingers rested over her own for just a heartbeat, “I’ll see you soon then.  And uh, thanks for the dance, Amanda.” Stunned, all she could do was stand there, confused at the Dio patched metal head who pushed through the doorway and onto the street.  Under her breath, Amanda swore, “Fuck.  He knows my name.” —

Eddie didn’t know what he was supposed to wear to an outdoor concert in Hawkins Memorial Park at the beginning of October.  Was it a jacket and tie sort of situation?  Were jeans enough?  Was he going to stick out like a sore thumb if he was wearing a Metallica t-shirt? All of these questions and more burned through the bong ripped brain of Eddie Munson.  Pacing in front of his mirror, he fluffed his hair with his fingers, fidgety and fussing.  “Dude.  You’re fine.  What’s the big deal anyway?” Fixing Dustin with a stare that would wither lesser beings, Eddie folded down the collar of his red checkered flannel shirt, “The big deal?  I’ll tell you, Henderson.  The big deal is-” grabbing for his well used bottle of Aqua Velva and splashing a few shakes into his hands, “-I don’t wanna look like a jerk.  I want to blend in.  Just uh, enjoy some new music, and a nice night.” “Psst.  Bullshit.  Who’s the chick?” His eyes widened.  How could the little butthead know?  Eddie hadn’t said a word about the music store beauty and still, somehow, the pipsqueak was calling him out. “What chick?  Who said chick?  There’s no chick.” “Me thinks thou doth protest too much.” Pausing while he fiddled with the buttons on the sleeves of his shirt, confusion filling his face, Eddie blinked, “Wha?” “It’s Shakespeare.  You protest too much ‘cause, ya know, you’re covering up.”  Frustrated, Dustin shook his head, closing his eyes as he exhaled heavily, “Nevermind.  You’re clearly lying.  Tell me about her.  Who is she?” Looking over at his youthful friend, Eddie thought about it for a long second.  Tell Dustin about Amanda?  What was there to tell?  Shrugging safely into his shirt, Eddie bought himself some time fiddling with the buttons.  “Uh, well.  I don’t really know her all that well.  We, literally, bumped into each other at the music shop when I was picking up my new bible.”  He was now entirely focused on his hair which had decided to go fluffy.  Disgusted at what he saw, looking more pampered poodle than suave rocker, Eddie continued to run his hands through the curls as he chatted with his sidekick, “She’s uh-” “Pretty?” Dropping his gaze to the top of his dresser, Eddie’s cheeks colored at the word, “Yea.  So cute.  And, she seems smart.  Funny, ya know?” Nodding, Dustin came up behind his friend, plucking a stray hair from his shoulder, “Sounds pretty damn perfect, man.” “I’m sure there’s a catch.  There always is when it comes to women.”  Eddie couldn’t help trying to keep his excitement in check.  It was better to set his expectations low.  Less likely to hurt so bad when someone disappointed him and people always seemed to be disappointing Eddie Munson. Catching his older friend’s eye in the mirror, Dustin offered up a toothless smile, “I don’t know, man.  Maybe she’ll surprise you?” —

People were scattered around the park.  Some hovered near benches, others sat on blankets and a lucky few used their lawn chairs, dragged from home, all to get a good view of the small stage where the quartet would be performing tonight.  It was exciting. Amanda had unpacked her mic and cord, scatting a bit so that the guys could get a level on her voice and ensure a balanced sound through their mixing board.  She didn’t really understand all the technicalities, but in the end it helped make sure that they all sounded as good as possible, so Amanda played along.  “Testing one, two, three- testing one, two, three.  Can y’all hear us out there?” A smattering of claps and one enthusiastic “Woo hoo!” met her question.  Carly’s electric piano came next, banging out a couple of chords, before Jim slid his bow across the strings of his bass.  Not to be excluded, Mark took a couple of rim shots, making them all laugh. Now all that was left was waiting for the start of the show.  Seven o’clock and one of the town’s cultural council staff members used her microphone to blab about why they were hosting this event and to welcome Amanda and the band.  The lawn had filled in a bit, more people milling around which was always a good sign, so Amanda took a deep breath before greeting everyone, “Good evening everyone!  We’re the Indiana Four and we’re going to play for you tonight.  If you like what you hear, there’s a tambourine-” jingling the instrument to get everyone's attention, Amanda added, “-and I’ll leave it right here, in case you wanna put a little something in it!”

It was still too early for a full on sun set, but the sky didn’t know it.  Painted in bold streaks of orange that melted into petal pink due to the rays of the sinking sun, it created a warm glow which outlined everything around them with a gilded golden edge.  The moon was already a ghostly crescent barely visible in the rainbow tinted ether when Amanda let her voice rise into the oncoming night.  Mark counted them in with a broad smile in her direction and Carly’s piano joined the swell of music.  The deeper bass notes of Jim’s cello grounded the opening strains of their first song.  Amanda gently shut her eyes, letting her body feel every word of the song she was singing, just like she would do at home in her shower or behind the wheel of her tiny car.  Unaware of herself and completely at ease, letting her instrument, her voice, blend into the melody the four of them created together. Eddie was never going to get over the sound of her voice.  Sweet and soaring, she seemed to change the quality of its tone depending on the song, always leaving him guessing.  Which version of this lady was going to sing next?  A sultry vixen, heart broken and mournful?  The shy ingenue, new to love?  A plaintive bard, looking for answers?  Or some new character created to enchant him with only the power of her voice? In between songs, Amanda smiled brightly, joking with the people gathered and teasing her band mates playfully.  It made the entire concert feel comfortable- easy.  Like the folks who came down to see them were in on the funniest joke.  All one big, happy family who simply wanted to share music on a random October evening in the middle of Indiana. “Ok everyone, you’ve heard us sing a little of this and a little of that-” wrapping her hands around the microphone, Amanda pulled the silver stick closer, “-but now we’re going to do a favorite of mine, if that’s alright.” At the opening strains from the piano, a couple, older with matching graying hair, stood in front of their chairs and started swaying together, wrapped in each other’s arms.  Amanda’s lips spread in a wide smile pointed in their direction as she started, “There’s a saying old, says that love is blind. Still we’re often told, seek and ye will find. So, I’m gonna seek a certain lad I’ve had in mind.” Moving from the lamp post he had been leaning against, no longer content to watch from the shadows, Eddie stepped directly into Amanda’s line of sight.  She saw him.  How could she miss the leather wrapped, long haired guy who was peering straight into her soul?  And she wanted to look away, give someone, anyone else in the assembled listeners, her attention, but Amanda found that she couldn’t.

Had she expected him to be there?  Shaking her head for the crowd to see answered her own thoughts.  No, Amanda had no idea that the metal loving smooth talker would actually come to seek her out.  But, she had thought about it in the small moments between guitar lessons or while driving to her classes in the morning.

So, no.  Seeing Eddie stand there, bold as brass with his wide eyed stare and his hands in his pockets was not what Amanda had been expecting.  Hoped for, maybe.  Wished for, absolutely.  Reality though was better than anything her mind might have considered. “Looking everywhere, haven’t found him yet He’s the big affair I cannot forget, Only man I ever think of with regret.” Eddie swallowed hard.  The words she was singing wrapped around him on the night’s breeze and held on tight.  It was as if they were having a conversation that no one else could decipher, a conversation for only two. “I’d like to add his initials to my monogram, Tell me, where’s the shepherd for this lost lamb?” And she sounded lost.  Abandoned.  Alone.  Exactly like the type of person that Eddie was collecting for Hellfire or the band.  A person who needed someone like him to shield them from the big bads in life.  A guy who could protect her from the sort of wolves that a shepherd like him knew about all too well. “There’s a somebody I’m longing to see, I hope that he turns out to be Someone to watch over me.”

She was singing just to him.  Only Eddie.  There was no one else to look at, no one else who could understand or appreciate what the lyrics demanded.  “I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood, I know I could always be good To one who'll watch over me”

Eddie felt his smile slide into place.  It wasn’t the wide, dimpled, open grin that showed off his teeth and let you know he was happiest.  No, this smile was small, secret.  It drew his pretty pink tongue over the plush swell of his lips, something Amanda could see from a distance.  Then, just to be coy, his pearly top teeth bit into the pillow cushion of his bottom lip, teasing her from her position on the small stage. Even from this far away, Amanda could see that he had made an effort.  A shirt with a collar was buttoned across his chest, all red and black squares that looked soft and broken in.  Sure, it was still under his leather jacket, but the denim vest must have been left somewhere safe, because he wasn’t sporting the pins and patches that she remembered from their first encounter.  Jeans, dark blue or was it black?  She couldn’t really tell, but it didn’t entirely matter.  Either way, they fit snugly around his thighs and only sported a single torn knee.  The threads stretched across his joint, frayed and begging to be played with. His hair was wild.  It fell in waves of dark tendrils, looking to all the world like no care had been taken in its shaping and styling.  Amanda stretched the fingers of her right hand, the one not holding her mic, imagining how Eddie’s curls would feel wrapped around her fingers. He saw it all.  The way her hand fisted at her side before trailing up the chord of her microphone, tangling the slack in her fingers.  How Amanda let every note have its own moment before the next one rose to join it. “Although he may not be the man some girls think of as handsome, To my heart, he carries the key”

Eyes fluttering shut, Amanda took a breathy inhalation as the melody shifted, daring to break the spell by denying herself the sight of Eddie in the crowd.  Her heart thumped in time with Mark’s gentle drumming, thick hips swaying without her conscious approval, the crowd around her all but forgotten.  Sliding back to the original cadence, the song swelled up and out of Amanda, nearing the end. “Won't you tell him please, to put on some speed, Follow my lead, oh, how I need, Someone to watch over me”

Eddie was transfixed.  There was only him and Amanda and her voice and the falling sun burnishing everything rose golden in the fading light.  He caught the way her skirt curled happily at her ankles with every shift of her feet.  The way her mouth formed around the lyrics.  How her chest rose and fell with each expressive stanza. The words repeated: “Won't you tell him please, to put on some speed Follow my lead, oh, how I need Someone to watch over me”

Amanda let her eyes flutter open.  Closer now, unavoidable and un-ignorable, Eddie was standing directly in front of her.  The final note, held until her lungs burned from want of air, faded into the ether and she winked at him.  She couldn’t help it, really. Not when she had somehow managed to carry on as if the most handsome guy Amanda had ever bumped into wasn’t staring straight into her soul as she sang.  Not when every note was rich and ripe and reverberated across the people packed plaza even if, presently, she sang solely for an audience of one. Applause.  Clapping and whistling came from every corner of the park, jostling Eddie’s attention.  From the stage, Amanda giggled at his reaction, but smoothly covered her response, “We are just so grateful that you all came to see us tonight.  So-” tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, a shy smile pointed in Eddie’s direction, she continued, “-we’re going to do one more song before we say goodnight.” She didn’t look at Eddie at all this time.  Amanda wasn’t even sure she could, not after the intensity of singing, to him, for him.  But she could tell he was there all the same, with his elbows bending outward like leather wrapped wings, nervous energy causing him to bounce on his toes in time with the music.

The new melody started and Amanda let it take her away too.  This number is lively, the rhythm more rock than jazz, and she gave herself permission to have a little fun, show off a little bit.  Still, she actively ignored the one set of eyes that didn’t seem to stray from her own through their final song. Soon enough, it was all over and the Indiana Four began breaking down.  A few friendly folks from the audience came up and said kind words.  Luckily there were a few dollars in the tambourine and Amanda happily handed the take to Carly, “Not so bad.” “Not bad at all-” But her friend stopped mid sentence, a voice familiar and still foreign cutting through the conversation, “Um, excuse me?  Amanda?” Turning around, Amanda was surprised to find Eddie so close that the toes of her boots brushed against his Reeboks.  She looked up at him through the curtain of her mascara, “How can I help you?” Now her voice was breathy.  Husky.  And it made Eddie’s skin prickle hotly.  “Uh, I just wanted to tell you- all, tell you all just how much I enjoyed your set.” Only, Eddie never looked past Amanda’s face.  Couldn’t really.  Not when her wide eyes were staring into his own, their long lashes accentuating her curious gaze, her head tilted in a way that showed sincerity.

His calloused palm rubbed against the back of his neck, nerves getting the better of him the longer that Eddie stood there.  It felt like hours.  Long, silence filled hours where no one spoke and he dangled from a weak branch of his own social awkwardness. In reality it was only seconds before Amanda giggled like a crushing school girl, dropping her gaze to break the spell she had unwittingly cast, “Well, that’s awfully kind of you…?” Clearly she was prompting him.  It was unfair that she was at the disadvantage of not knowing his name when he had learned hers through the forced politeness of the customer service industry.  Behind her, Carly snorted as they watched Eddie extend a heavy ringed hand, taking Amanda’s in his own.  Raising it high enough to press a chaste kiss to the back, adding a saucy wink for good measure as he answered, “Eddie.  I’m Eddie.” “Eddie.”  Amanda wasn’t aware that she’d whispered it out loud until her friend was reaching past her, extending her own hand Eddie’s way for a greeting, using her flirty voice to try and charm the very handsome, very out of place guy, “Carly.  That’s me.  And-” dropping her hand when Eddie failed to take it, Carly laughed ruefully, “-you don’t care.” Carly was absolutely right.  Neither one of them paid her any attention because the world as Amanda knew it no longer existed.  Not anymore. There was a new sun, a new sky.  One with raven curls and plump, pink lips.  A center of the galaxy that smelled like Aqua Velva and cinnamon gum and something mossy green.  The world had shifted off its axis, tipping her right into the arms of Eddie Munson. For Eddie, well, he had been gone from the second Amanda had tangled herself around him so tightly that she’d almost fallen.  But it was amazing to recognize that these feelings he was having were mutual.  He got shy then, toeing at the patch of grass in front of her, hands in his pockets while he played at casual, “Wanna get outta here?” Nodding wordlessly, Amanda agreed, only to realize her unspoken intention.  “Yea!  Uh, yes.  Yes.  That would be nice.” When Eddie cocked his chin up, the smile on his face was dazzling, “Excellent.”

— She was sure that she told the band where she was going and who she was leaving with, but Amanda couldn’t be certain.  It felt like so long ago.  An age had passed since she had been standing on the simple stage, singing for all of Hawkins to hear.  Since then, the long ago days of the early evening, so much had happened. Eddie had held her hand as he walked her to his van, holding open the door and ensuring that Amanda was tucked safely inside.  Boys didn’t do that- not for Amanda Patterson.  Not for the chubby girl who still had her baby weight to lose. When he caught her nibbling worriedly at her bottom lip, Eddie asked pointedly, “Everything alright?” “Uh, yea, I just-” “Afraid I’m trying to kidnap you, huh?  I get it.  Vans do have a-” he waggled his eyebrows suggestively while pressing the tip of his tongue to the center of his top lip, “-certain reputation.  But I promise you, Amanda.  No funny business.”  With one hand over his heart, Eddie extended the other, holding his pinky finger out. She recognized the gesture.  Every school aged kid would.  “Is that- are you making a pinky promise?”

His cheeks split into a solar powered smile as he nodded, “Oh, yes.  Absolutely.  And it’s ironclad, since, ya know, we link our little fingers.” Chuckling with her whole body, her shoulders lifted as Amanda agreed by reaching out her own pinky, “Ok, ok.  No funny business.”

They wrapped their littlest fingers around the other, huffing out laughs like naughty children.  And it did comfort any nagging fears that might have flooded Amanda’s mind because it was so silly.  So unexpected.  It was also entirely sincere. Roaring to life like a beast roused from slumber, the van started and Eddie shifted into gear, “Are you, by any chance, hungry?”

He was hoping against hope that she was because Eddie wasn’t ready to say goodnight.  Not now when he finally had this beautiful songbird buckled into the passenger’s seat, looking at him with those electric eyes.  Eyes that kept pulling him in anytime he dared glance Amanda’s way, now fully focused on him and beaming. Normally a question like that would be fully loaded for a young woman very aware of her size and stature, but for the first time and without any hesitation, Amanda answered without reservation, “Starved.”

Exhaling through a grin, Eddie shook his hair off his shoulders, “Then let’s go!” The drive to the diner was filled with chatter.  He offered kind words about the band, the concert and her vocals.  “You, you’re just incredible.  Never heard someone sing like that before.” “Thanks, but truthfully, Carly and Mark and Jim, they make me sound better.”  Amanda did that thing where she deflected the words, the attention, to anyone else in order to minimize herself.  What she didn’t count on?  Eddie’s ability to see right through her. Blowing his bangs off his face, Eddie swiveled to face Amanda, his tone finally serious, “Uh uh.  Nope.  No way.  You’re gonna have to accept that you’re the star of the show, sweetheart.”  Then, he leaned over the center console, right into Amanda’s personal space to bump her shoulder with his own, “Please, take the compliment.” Her jaw snapped shut, hands in her lap where Amanda fooled around her with fingernails, fidgeting.  She swallowed thickly and bobbed her head, her voice gaining strength.  “You’re right.  I, uh, I appreciate you saying that.” “No problem at all, hun.  I’m only telling the truth.”  That’s when she noticed his little finger wiggling her way, “Pinky promise.” — Normally Amanda would frown at the idea of a booth.  They tended to be a tight squeeze, embarrassingly so when she’d have to slide across the bench, her supple thighs sticking to the tacky pleather. She desperately did not want to be embarrassed in front of the forthright dude in front of her. But Amanda didn’t need to worry.  Eddie, lacing her hand in his, tugged her to the back table, “My usual spot- out of the way and the most comfortable one in the place.” Deep and roomy, the color of jellied cranberry sauce from a can, the cushion was accommodating because of its indeterminate age.  She plopped onto the seat with room to spare, more than a little relieved, “Oh yea?” “Yea.  I’ve been breaking it in for years.” Cocking her head in a way that made Eddie’s breath hitch, a clever half teasing smile curling one corner of her mouth higher than the other, Amanda joked, “So you bring all your women here, then?” The deep barking laugh that came straight from Eddie’s chest made an elderly gentleman sitting at the countertop turn around with a scowl.  “All my women?  You make me sound like a lothario.” “Mr. Goodbar?  Is that you?”  She squinted her eyes, leaning into the bit. “Oh, Mandy, honey.  I am nowhere near that good with the ladies.” “I don’t know.  You’re doing pretty good with me, so far.”  And it was out of her mouth like a runaway rocket.  There was no way to pull it back, no way to reign it in.  It was there- out in the ether, like a comet bound to crash through the atmosphere. Amanda froze because now she’d done it.  She had pointed out her interest, revealed herself as wanting, knowing that any other time she had dared to give voice to her attraction it had always been met with let down and heart ache.  The embarrassment boiled through her. God, she had wanted so badly to play it cool.  To ensure that Eddie was really into her before making any kind of declaration that couldn’t be passed off as a joke.  Stewing, Amanda waited for the inevitable rejection from the man far prettier and sexier than she should ever hope to have for her own. But instead of a dismissive shrug or, worse, a comment about liking her as a ‘just friend’, Amanda got to watch as Eddie’s eyes lit up joyfully.  He couldn’t hide it either, apparently, since his smile widened enough to show off a pair of precious dimples, “Yea?  Ya think so?  That’s- uh, that’s good to hear.” Something about his own reckless enthusiasm caused the flood of worry to ebb away, leaving Amanda filled with a warm, gooey sensation that was not as familiar.  Could it be?  Was this what mutual attraction felt like?  Was this what love songs had been selling for generations and greeting card companies were always trying to find new ways to describe?  Was this… love? “Hey lovebirds, what can I get ya?”  It is a universal law that wait staff appear at the table when it is least convenient and this interruption by Cheryl ensured that all was right with the cosmos, her tiny pencil poised and ready to write. They had spent no time reading the menu, but Eddie had it memorized cover to cover.  Looking at Amanda, he nodded, “So, uh, do you trust me?” Again, her head tilted, appraising this nearly perfect stranger with the gorgeous grin and shaggy hair.  “Uh huh, yea.  I trust you.  Why do you ask?” Licking over his lips, he turned all of his unfiltered attention to their waitress, dialing the charm up to eleven, “Hiya Cheryl!” “Hi yourself, Eddie.  What’s it gonna be?”  There was a familiarity there that spoke of too many late night coffee cups and slices of pie.  It wasn’t friendly, really, but it was warm enough and Eddie’s puppy dog eyes moved the conversation into safer waters. “Hmm… patty melts.  Two please, with the curly fries, ok?” A curt nod answered his request, “Yea, and to drink?” He looked at Amanda, that impish twinkle shining bright in his cinnamon dark eyes, “Milkshakes?” “Oh!  Yes!  Vanilla for me, please.”  She beamed at Eddie, excitement at the consideration evident in Amanda’s face. “And I suppose you want chocolate, right Eddie?” Cheryl lifted her gaze from the scribble filled notepad to stare down at Amanda’s dinner companion. Placing his ring covered hand over his chest, Eddie batted his eyes, “You know the way to my heart, Cheryl.” Snorting approvingly at his antics, she jotted down Eddie’s preferred flavor, “All right kids, be right up.” And she wasn’t kidding because before either of them could let the silence grow, two tall and frosty milkshake glasses were being slid across the glittering formica, each topped with a mound of whipped cream and a luscious, over sweet cherry as a crown.  A pair of straws were tossed down without much thought and Amanda greedily grabbed one, eager to taste the delectable treat in front of her. “So, tell me about you.  What do you- like, what do you do for fun?”  Eddie was toying with his straw’s paper wrapper, making small talk and working hard at looking effortless.  He hadn’t been out like this, with a girl he was so into, in ages.  Maybe ever, really, and he was rusty, more than a little out of practice. Amanda swirled her own straw through the thick vanilla shake in front of her, biting into her bottom lip before replying, “Well, I work.  A lot.”  “At the Music Shop?” She shrugged, “Yup.  But it’s not all restocking sheet music and replacing guitar strings.  I teach-” “Like guitar?”  Something about the prospect was so exciting.  A fellow musician to noodle around with and she just happened to have the voice of an angel?  Was this paradise found, or what? Amanda nodded at his eager response, “Yea.  Also some keyboard, like, really beginner piano, ya know?” Eddie slurped at his chocolate shake, brain going a mile a minute.  Shaking his long hair off his shoulders, nearly gawking, he clicked his tongue before sighing deeply, “It’s not really fair.” Worry filled Amanda’s features.  Had she done something wrong?  It had all been going so well, maybe too well?  “What’s not fair?” Rapping his ringed knuckles against the tabletop before pointing her way, “You.  You’re like, too good to be true.” Shy now, Amanda turned away from his kindness, his honeyed praises, and fiddled nervously with the pendant of her necklace.  It wasn’t something she had a ton of experience with; flirting and compliments and genuine appreciation.  If she was on a stage, under a white hot spotlight, Amanda would know exactly what to say, what to do, but here on the worn out bench seat of a small town diner, Amanda found herself unmoored by all the attention Eddie was sending her way. “Oh, that’s like- I mean, I’m not-” she let her voice trail off, suddenly transfixed by something outside of the plate window. “Hey-” Eddie laid his hand, palm up, on the worn down table, his voice dropping to a whisper.  He’d said something to upset Amanda because she had taken those brilliant peepers away and that felt wrong on a primal level. “-Amanda?  Did I- uh, shit.  Did I do something, ya know, wrong?  Shit.” There was something in the defeated sound of Eddie’s expletive that brought her around.  She saw his open hand, still laying on the table and cautiously linked her fingers with his.  But she still could not meet his questioning look.  Twirling one of those big, heavy rings around his large and frankly, distracting fingers, Amanda finally huffed out a lungful of air. “I guess I should like, be honest here and tell you that I’ve never really done this.”  She motioned between the pair of them with her unoccupied hand as if that alone would explain her behavior. Eddie squeezed her fingers for a second, a trace of teasing in his tone when he asked, “Had dinner in a shitty diner?” Rolling her eyes skyward, she snorted out a small laugh, “No.  Well, kinda?  I mean, I haven’t really had a-” she let her eyes lock onto Eddie’s maple brown ones, holding him still, “-a date.  I, uh, never really had anyone, ya know, wanna take me out.  So, this is new.  For me, anyway.” Eddie could see what the admission cost her.  The once pleased smile now turned just a little pouty as her bottom lip puckered from the effort of opening herself up.  Her chest rose and fell rapidly as if she couldn’t keep the air inside her for too long, but perhaps the most telling was the way that Amanda’s hand clung tightly to Eddie’s. For a long second neither one of them said anything.  The kitchen crew could be heard, banging around pots and plates.  Another couple in a nearby booth was laughing loudly.  The radio was tuned to the oldies station so everyone could listen to Sam Cooke singing about Cupid. And when Amanda realized that Eddie wasn’t going to respond, she sat up, stiffer than before, readying to take her hand with her.  But Eddie closed his fist around her fingers, keeping his hold on her and tugging her gently forward, a pained pinch obvious in his voice, “Me either.” “What?” He closed his eyes and swallowed thickly, “I don’t date.  Uh, that often.”  Popping one eye open, just to see if Amanda was still with him, Eddie continued, “Um, I’ve got a bit of a, well, a reputation.  And for some reason, the ladies around here aren’t into that.” Shooting for levity, Eddie hoped to lighten the mood.  Moments like this, where he was on display emotionally, where he was open and vulnerable, made him nervous.  Anxious.  Twitchy.  It was fucking scary to be sitting here with this pretty bird and tell her how much of a disaster he really was with no bravado to use as armor.  And if Amanda wasn’t already heading for the hills, there was no way he would be able to stop her now. “It’s the van, isn’t it?  All the people you’ve attempted to kidnap, right?”  At her gentle jest, both of Eddie’s eyes popped open.  She was still there, sitting sweetly behind her melting shake, a tentative twist of her lips making it impossible for Eddie to stop imagining what kissing her would be like and he felt himself nodding with a hoarse giggle, relieved, “Yea.  That’s, uh, that’s it.  I’m just a creepy metal head with a super creepy van.” “You probably have candy too and uh, puppies?  For the luring of innocents?” “Of course.  What’s a kidnapper without his bait?”  “A weird guy with an empty van?”  And that absolutely shitty punchline was enough to send them both into a giggle fit, shattering any lingering tension created by being a touch too honest in the moment.  There would be a better time to talk about deep dark secrets and the reasons why two lonely people could find comfort in each other, but this wasn’t it. When Amanda pulled her hand back this time, Eddie let it go.  She used her napkin to dab under her eyes, clearing away the tears that laughing together had created.  Then she was dipping down to slurp at her creamy concoction, grinning, “This is so good!” “Right?  But, I gotta say, vanilla is-” “What?  What’s wrong with vanilla?”  Shaking his head with a laugh, Eddie raised his eyebrows, “Vanilla is kinda boring.” “It is not!”  Scalded by his choice of words, Amanda leaned over their shared table at the diner, motioning him closer.  When she was near enough for her now vanilla scented breath to skate across Eddie’s mouth, Amanda husked, “Vanilla is smoky.  Sweet.  It’s hard to grow, super hard to harvest and while there are many imitators out there.  Real vanilla.  The good stuff?  Well, that shit would rock your world.” Amanda, feeling bolder, pushed in tighter despite the formica between them, continuing in a hushed tone.  “And Eddie-” her voice dropped even lower, forcing him to concentrate on every word leaving her tenderly parted lips, lips that smelled like bourbon and sugar and cream.  Lips that Eddie wanted to taste so badly that he was sure he was going to go mad, right here in the goddamned diner, before their burgers ever made it to the table.  Lips that begged to be kissed stupid, carried on, unaware of his rising desire, “-never forget this: chocolate needs vanilla to taste so damn good!”  Sitting back, pleased as punch now that her point was made, Amanda slurped down another sip of her vanilla shake.  Eddie needed a minute.  Or seven.  He was still almost lying chest down on the booth’s table, having to cock his head up to look at the vanilla loving vixen gloating over him.  Spreading his broad hands over the tabletop, Eddie dramatically pushed himself back into his seat, eyeing Amanda warily, acting contrary for the fun of it.  “It’s a good story, kid.  But I’m still not convinced about vanilla’s superiority.  Maybe-”  He was pushing his luck, he knew it.  God, but he knew it only too well.  She’d admitted to being new to all this, inexperienced, but still, fortune favors the bold, isn’t that what some famous person had said once?  Amanda, unknowingly, waited for his follow-up, her mouth wrapped around the striped straw, her cheeks round and smiling, “Maybe?” Leaning onto one leather wrapped elbow, Eddie reclaimed the space at the center of their table, “Maybe I need to taste it again?” She’s confused.  Yea, definitely, confused.  So Amanda moved, ready to slide her icy half filled glass his way.  But Eddie shook his head slowly and waved her forward until their foreheads were almost pressed together.  That’s when he cupped her cheek, gently, softly and Amanda, powerless to stop her body, nuzzled into the warmth there. It felt natural.  Right.  Easy.  And there was no way that Amanda was going to deny herself this little bit of pleasure being offered so openly. If what Eddie had admitted was true, and the way his eyes had scrunched gave her a pretty good idea that it was, then he was in uncharted waters himself.  Something about that idea, that they were both in this raging waterfall of connection together made it safer somehow.  It made it easier to shut her own eyes and enjoy the calloused caresses of Eddie. Eddie slid his thumb over her plush bottom lip which parted without question, “Wanna taste you.  That alright, Mandy?” God, did she like being called Mandy.  She bobbed her head ‘yes’, her eyes shut from the want, already anticipating Eddie’s movements.  But he surprised her again, asking- no, telling, “Open your eyes, baby.  Please?” And only when Eddie could spy the blown open pupils of his dinner companion did he allow his mouth to surge forward.  His slightly chapped lips separated enough for his tongue to sweep across Amanda’s own and he was rewarded with a sultry sigh.  It made Eddie braver.  Bolder.  

Now he was intrepid in his search for the flavor of vanilla, teasing and taking a taste of every muggy corner of her mouth.  His tongue brushed against her own, the fresh flavor of vanilla sweetness everywhere.  Heady and exotic and exciting.  Amanda tipped her chin downward, ready to deepen this first kiss that arched over forgotten milkshakes and the paper napkins wrapping up their silverware, tentatively running the tip of her tongue over Eddie’s teeth.  Traces of chocolate and the syrupy sweet cherry from the top of his treat lingered on Eddie’s lips making Amanda hum harmonically.  Her fingers fisted into the collar of his flannel shirt, ensuring that Eddie couldn’t escape, at least, not without effort. But she wasn’t worried.  When his second hand molded to the curve of her other cheek, Amanda couldn’t avoid smiling, knowing that Eddie was as into this as she was.  As far as first kisses went, this one was ranking pretty high on the list of all time greats and both were reluctant to pull away first. “Ahem!  AHEM!  I have your order.” Two heads turned toward the intruding voice of the bored and bordering on disgusted server Doris but Eddie and Amanda didn’t jump apart like a couple of randy teens might have.  Oh no, Amanda leaned further into the cup of Eddie’s palm, offering their put upon server a small smile, dazed and almost drunkenly, “Hmm, thank you so much.” Eddie would have rather died than forfeit the pleasure of her trusting touch.  With his free left hand he reached for one of the two plates, “Here, lemme have that.” “Whatever.”  Without any further ceremony, Doris, because that’s what her name tag read, plopped both heavy ceramic dishes to the table, “Need anything else lovebirds?” Amanda lifted her head slowly, licking over her bee stung lips and nodded towards the pink cheeked shaggy headed boy still draped across their booth, “Uh, yea.  Could we have another vanilla shake, please?  It’s his favorite flavor.” Chuckling, Eddie let his broad thumb with the bitten down nail graze over the apple of her cheek, speaking to Doris but only looking at Amanda, “Two cherries, huh, Doris?” Rolling her elderly eyes, the waitress shook her head, “Right away.” Steam rolled off the two cheeseburger melts and stacks of seasoned french fries but they remained huddled as close at the table between them would allow.  Cocking his eyebrow, Eddie couldn’t help the teasing, “My favorite, huh?” “Oh yea.  You’re a convert now.” Settling back reluctantly, Eddie smirked your way, “Ever think that you’re my favorite flavor?” He was rewarded with a small kiss pressed to the inside of his wrist and what he realized was a trademark tilt of her head, “I told you that everything tastes better with vanilla, Eddie.” “Yea, you sure did.”  Biting into his burger, Eddie grinned through the grease on his face, sure he had never been happier in his short life.  And if the triumphant smirk Amanda flashed his way proved anything, she felt the exact same way.

— The second their empty plates had been cleared away, Eddie’s hand naturally kind of reached for Amanda’s, needy and greedy for the reassurance of touch.  Just as natural, Amanda slotted her fingers between his, “I gotta say, Eddie, that was a pretty amazing burger.” Pleased at the recognition, Eddie squeezed her digits for a second, “Thanks for trusting me.”  And then he seemed to realize the full implication of his statement.  Thanks for trusting him on the drive over.  Thanks for trusting his judgment about the restaurant and not just his menu choices.  Thanks for trusting his intentions. Her eyes rounded at the sentiment, giving Eddie a flash of sympathy before leaning into a flirty smile, “I had to.  You did pinky promise me that there would be no funny business and that’s ironclad.  At least, that’s what I’ve been led to believe.” “God, you remember everything, huh?”  But he sounded impressed.  Happy that she hadn’t lingered on his more revealing comment. Nodding, Amanda agreed, “Yea, I mean, I kinda have an ear and it’s always been easy for me to memorize stuff.  Lyrics, melodies, lines from movies-” Leaning forward again, engaged and interested, Eddie licked over his bottom lip, “No shit?” “No shit!” Eddie couldn’t help it.  He let his eyes roam over the pretty face in front of him, etching all of the details into his own memory, vowing never to forget the greasy sweet shine of her lips around the red striped straw or how she folded her disposable napkin up primly before laying it across her dinner plate.  The way Amanda’s hand felt so right in his and how her mouth tasted like vanilla ice cream with a trace amount of menthol throat drop lingering along her teeth. Eddie needed to remember it all for later.  For tonight when he went back to his trailer, like a gentleman.  For tomorrow or the day after or the day after that.  For all the days that would spread between this time together and the next time Eddie would be able to see her.  He was going to live off the sound of Amanda’s begrudging laugh when he made a joke that was funnier than it had any real right to be.  He planned to survive on the nourishment of her sugared sighs when those perfect, plump and pouty lips had welcomed Eddie’s own.  It was food for his soul.  Essential for life like oxygen or water. “Uh, Eddie?”  Amanda’s quiet question yanked him out of his own head and back into the present moment. He tugged the forward chunk of his hair between his long fingers, embarrassed at being caught, “Hmm?”  “You’re, uh, staring.” “Yea.  Sorry about that.  It’s just-” “Do I have something on my face?”  Panicked, Amanda patted at her cheeks to find the non-existent stain. And how could he help himself?  “Oh, yup.  A little higher.  No, lower- uh, nope, other side.  It’s right there-” he directed her wildly, pointing at the corner of his mouth to watch Amanda lick the same spot of her own, “-almost.  How do you keep missing it?” “You little shit!”  It was suddenly crystal clear that Eddie was full on fucking with her.  There never had been anything on her face. “What?  You got it.  Just now.”  Eddie’s impish grin made it impossible for Amanda to be truly mad so she settled for shooting him a playfully spiteful glare, “Uh huh.  Yea, sure.” His thumb rubbed along the side of her pointer finger, the gentle drag a grounding reminder of Eddie’s unwavering presence.  Amanda rested her chin against the flat of her right palm before sighing deeply, “What am I gonna do with you, Eddie?” Reflexively, re-actively, he answered, “Whatever you want, baby.” It was Amanda’s turn to stare.  There was an open honesty in the hot coffee color of Eddie’s eyes that hooked her right through the heart and tugged like a caught fish on a rusty lure.  He was being serious, there was no denying it. Around them the air shifted.  It was no longer funny.  It was no longer polite. The world narrowed once more, big enough for only the two of them and the dingy diner booth where they sat as everything else fell away. Her throat tightened and a lick of heated flame unfurled through her belly.  Words flooded her thoughts but Amanda couldn’t seem to settle on the ones that would say what she wanted desperately to express.  Eddie’s seemingly simple declaration had untethered her. Because it was too soon to speak with such clarity of purpose.  Too early for the implication of more to be made.  And yet, for the first time, Amanda saw the ghostly shape of possibility in the earnest expression Eddie wore. There was a promise there, stronger than one created when two little fingers linked, and something about that was spooky.  Scary.  Only, Amanda didn’t feel frightened like she thought she should, shrugging smoothly, “I- I wanna stay with you.” That was her truth, in the singular sparkling now.  Leaving Eddie, even for the comfort of home, was a thought so daunting, so disruptive, that she was actively moving against it.  Everything in Amanda Patterson said ‘stay’.  Eddie’s head bobbed in understanding.  He had no intention of letting the night end so early and without any plan in place for a follow-up rendezvous.  At Amanda’s declaration, he’d changed the grip of her hand, turning it so that their palms touched, textured heat melding together.  

He’d be lying if he denied the libidinous way his blood shot south at the whispered want in Amanda’s voice.  He was a young and virile guy, after all.  But Eddie wasn’t thinking with his dick when he said, “I don’t wanna let you go, Mandy.”

“Am I-” pausing to catch her breath, Amanda started again, “-are we crazy?” “I uh, I don’t think so.”  Conspiratorially, Amanda huffed, “Then what do we do now, Eddie?” His free hand brushed through his curls roughly before landing on the back of his neck, “Let me take you home?” It was a question born of chivalry and Amanda agreed with a thin, “Yes, please.” Eddie stood up first, somehow managing to keep her hand in his as he slipped out of the booth smoothly.  Once he was on his feet, he tugged lightly, bringing Amanda to the edge of the bench before offering his arm.  She watched as Eddie threw some loose bills on the table and then he was leading her outside of the bacon scented diner and onto the sidewalk. She floated at his side, the swaying of her skirt brushing against the stiff denim of Eddie’s jeans.  What had been an appropriate outfit for the early evening was now a bit too thin and he saw her shiver under the bright and clear Indiana sky.  Popping open the van’s door, he saw her settled inside and as she buckled her seatbelt, Eddie shrugged off his leather jacket, “Here.  Snuggle up under this, yea?” Gripping the body warm coat with greedy fingers, Amanda clutched it to her chest, humming her thanks.  He watched as she spread it over herself, nudging the collar with her nose, “Oh man, it smells like you!” “Cigarettes and bad decisions?” “Nope.”  Inhaling deeply, she thought for a minute, “Cologne?  Aqua Velva, like my granddad wears and uh, Green Apple shampoo?”  She couldn’t hide the surprised way her eyes widened or the knowing little smirk her mouth made at this discovery. “What?  I think it smells good.”  Lingering in the space between inside the van with Amanda and outside on the sidewalk, Eddie’s arms leaned into the rusted metal frame, effectively caging her in the seat. Not that she minded when every time he stretched his flannel shirt rode up just enough for an alabaster white slice of belly to peek over the waistband of his jeans.  She had already noticed splashes of black ink over each hip but couldn’t be sure of its shape.  His forearms were on display, the strong veins of his wrists visible under the artfully stained skin, and Amanda let her mind wander at the idea of what Eddie looked like under all that cotton and cloth. Amanda swallowed thickly.  She was very aware of the protective bubble Eddie had built around her, here in the cab of his vehicle.  The scent of him.  The sight.  It was a feast for the senses. And now all she wanted was to taste the plush and pillowy softness of his lips.  Lips that were moving, saying something but her mind had gone over into staticy silver.  She couldn’t help it.  Not when he was standing with his trim waist nearly at eye level, the belt of his jeans drawing them low on his hips.  “Huh?” That grin.  Broad and toothy, spread smugly over his face, “Uh, did I lose you for a second?” “Hmm, yea.  Kinda.  Sorry, what were you saying?” “I was saying, I don’t want to say goodnight, at least-” he raised a hand to her cheek, brushing the calloused pad of his thumb across her smooth skin, “-not so soon.” Having already melted into his touch, hoarse and throaty, she agreed, “Yea, no, me either.” “Yea?  So, if you’re up for a little adventure, I may have an idea.” Amanda lifted an eyebrow, questioning the boy before her with a sarcastic thread to her words,  “An adventure?” “Don’t worry, babe.  I'll make sure to get you there and back again.”  His pinkie finger was wiggling, just waiting for Amanda to link them together in a silent show of trust. —

Thanks for reading!  Part 2 is coming soon!

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BATDR Analysis/Post-Playthrough Theory Revision Pt. 2/4!

Fair Warning: Lots of spoilers and some pretty gruesome topics ahead (this game definitely lived up to the “scarier than BATIM” promise, wow)!

The unexpected key to understanding how the stories of BATDR, TLO, TIOL, and even DCTL intertwine: “The Mug and the Maiden: Vol. 1 by Sir Wilton Moore”

(This is my absolute favorite part, it made Wilson one of my favorite characters in the entire series~! 💕)

Let's just get this outta the way, “Wilton” is literally only one letter away from “Wilson,” this thing was definitely written by some version of him. Now, I'm sure most people skipped over this thing like my brother did, it's very long and seems borderline nonsensical at first. But I think it's much more important than it seems on the surface; not just comedic relief to break up your horror adventure or meaningless flavor text to fill out the world, but in fact a “twisted riddle that reveals more than meets the eye,” as Wilson's character bio says. Here's some screenshots, if you wanna read the story in full (described in alt text like everything else, if you can't make it out):

When I first read this, it struck me (when I wasn't busting a gut laughing) that several descriptions sounded very similar to characters in the Bendy games and books (and that there's a lot of returning repeated themes, like people going by two different names). The mouse who went to find cheese in the governor's basement, got crushed by the false wall, and eventually only briefly had the fact his wife worried when he didn't come home mentioned (also who apparently decayed much faster than he should've, his body practically reduced to nothing by sundown) sounded like Brant from TLO following Bill and Constance into the factory's secret moonshine basement hoping to get a scoop, getting crushed by the secret door, and eventually only briefly having Bill wonder if he had anyone who would miss and go looking for him (also who freaking turned into an ink bubble and popped moments after passing out from the pain so that the only remnants of his body were ink splatters). The cheese store man with big eyes and ears and belts of cheese around him sounded like Norman (I mean, besides how the man has a hobby of eavesdropping on and watching everyone from the shadows, just look at his ink form: The Projectionist). The ugly lizard man in the blue cloak with the distracting eyebrow hair sounded like Joey Drew in his blue bathrobe who many complained in BATIM was designed/animated too uncannily so that they found his face distracting. Riktor the Cracked sounded like Wilson with his scar (speaking of which, I'm not at all convinced that he's who Boswell Lotsabucks really represented. I'll explain more as we go)…

In fact, it occurred to me that Riktor's entire story sounded similar to the story Wilson tells about himself, both directly and through context clues (no, I'm not gonna bother with writing out sound effects/tones for this guy; that would add so much extra text that this would be incomprehensible. Just assume that the whole time he's talking he's wheezing like it's physically laborious for him to breathe and he has a Resting Villain Tone™).

“It seems that Arch Gate Studios, in all its misplaced admiration, was so eager to absorb the life's work of that crooked charlatan, Joey Drew, they didn't fully realize what they had acquired. Call it fate that I just happened to be there on the loading dock that morning. When the delivery boys dropped one of the crates, it smashed open, and inside there was something truly special. A mass of yellow steel and beautiful rivets. Some kind of machine. No one knew what it was. So the fools put it on display for all to see. But I could tell that this crude device held secrets. Secrets that could be mine.” ~ Wilson Arch, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “The Machine” audio log (emphasis added)

(I'll come back to the red part later.)

“When I first entered this world, it was an untamed wilderness. A wretched, crawling slum, ruled by that grinning demon. From chaos, I brought order. From order, I brought peace. Once you cut the head from the snake, the snake bleeds out quietly onto the ground. Now the only question that remains is: ‘What if the head grows back?’” ~ Wilson Arch, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “The Snake” audio log

“The machine speaks to me revealing its many possibilities. What I can accomplish using its power is beyond any measure. Life and death can become a thing of the past. Poverty and hunger, a distant memory. I can remake the world anew. But does the world deserve such a gift? For now, I have bigger matters at hand. A man in a black coat came asking at the front desk about the machine. Said he was from the Gent Corporation. Fortunately, the receptionist knew nothing and he left quietly. Later, I found his name on the sign-in form. Mister Allen Gray.” ~ Wilson Arch, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “A Gift To Mankind” audio log (emphasis added)

(I'll come back to the green part later, too.)

“It's been years and my face is still a mystery to my co-workers. They don't know me. They avoid me as if I carried some infectious disease. At first, I felt this was an insult. But now… it is a gift. With the right costume, I can play the part of anyone. I can go completely unnoticed, hidden amongst the shadowed walls. As a clerk, an artist, a producer. Or even… a lowly janitor.” ~ Wilson Arch, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “In Plain Sight” audio log

Wilson: You must be very tired. A quick rest will do you good. Betty will show you to your room. She's my housekeeper, among other things. . . . Audrey: And… do you trust Wilson? Betty: This is the realm of the Ink Demon. His shadow hangs over us all. I don't trust anyone. But Wilson takes care of me. Keeps me safe. He once said I remind him of something he called his… “mother?” Tell me, is that a good thing… where you two are from? Audrey: I'm not sure. I don't think I ever had one. Betty: Well, no matter. Now, I was told to make sure you get some sleep once you got here. So get nice and comfy and relax. I left something for you on the table that might just help you nod off. It's my own recipe. Works very fast. Just follow the instructions. Carefully.

Riktor was a “distant descendant” of one of the Three Grand Flagon Kings whose ancient exploits were legendary, though which one he comes from he isn't sure. I think this 100% confirms that while Nathan Sr. was never officially involved in JDS, he was always pulling strings behind the curtain, cause that brings the count to Three Kings of JDS. We, the audience don't know which of the studio's three original “rulers” (as Audrey calls herself at the end of the game) Wilson is the apparently-estranged son of – Henry Stein, Joey Drew, or Nathan Arch Sr. – until right before he dies (I know when Audrey was confirmed Joey's daughter, he first said he wanted to save his father's life, and I hadn't yet questioned if “Fake Henry” was actually fake or not, I wondered if maybe he was Henry's son), but there's definitely a reason he told Audrey, “shh, don't fret. We're going home,” when he sacrificed both her and himself to the Ink Machine: they were going home, to the place their fathers ruled over so very long ago!

(Anyone notice that they literally call the Ink Dimension a “kingdom” right there in the game's description??)

Riktor is called “the Cracked” even though everyone can see that he isn't cracked at the time the narrator is telling us this, and the narrator basically calls us stupid for wondering why the heck that is; we find out he gets the crack from being used to shatter a lizard man's face (which must've gotten better seeing as he was seen again the next week) at the end of this story that begins with the deaths of two major characters. Sure sounds like Wilson being called “the Man Who Killed the Ink Demon” even though half the Lost Ones we run into say “he says he killed the Ink Demon, but I saw him” and we frequently get chased by him ourselves, and how he basically calls anyone who questions this filthy slanderers; we find out that he's been trying his darndest (describing his previous attempts at doing so as cutting off a serpent's head that winds up growing back) and the reason he sacrificed himself and Audrey to the Ink Machine at the beginning of the game was because he needed her for his big plan to finally kill Bendy for real.

Riktor was the second son of his parents; the first was apparently more well-known because the narrator says there's probably no need to tell us his name, and apparently nobody liked him. Sure sounds like how everyone just already knows that Nathan Arch Sr. must have a son named “Nathan Arch Jr.” since he's called “Senior,” and Exhibit A for Boswell Lotsabucks not being Wilson: we just got confirmation he's Nathan Jr.'s younger brother! Also, I can smell the intense sibling jealousy, roflol. Either that, or… did Nathan Sr. also dislike his Favorite Son™, but like him enough to make Wilson jealous?? I mean, he does only ever mention having one son throughout the whole series and, as @dreamfisher-nux pointed out, says that son is as important to him as Bendy was to Joey, but he actually rarely ever speaks of even him and, unless that “Nathan Arch” portrait in Archgate's animation department is actually a replacement one of Junior (or perhaps even Nathan III, either of which would support my “Nathan Sr./Nathan I is actually dead from old age, at this point, the reason the JDS museum is bankrupt is because his [grand]son is nowhere near as ruthless a businessman as his [grand]dad, and Nathan Sr./Nathan I's soul is the ‘new evil’ in the Ink Dimension” theory), then we don't even see his face where we see Nathan Sr. and Joey's; he claims Junior's the one who gave him the idea for a studio/etc., it doesn't make sense not to memorialize him in any way, shape, or form.

(Sidenote: we also get a year of birth for Wilson, here. Twenty years before Mr. Darble Mouse/Brant “died;” he was born in 1926, so he's only 47 in BATDR… The stress of being Nathan Sr.'s son really did a number on ya, huh, bud?)

Riktor was “accidentally” put under a sleeping curse by a seemingly kind witch who at first offers him cake, then when he's still convinced she's evil instead offers a scone, which he does accept. She seems confused when Riktor falls asleep after eating it, then just finishes her cake and walks away to get a civil service job like she doesn't care; when he fulfills fate's purpose by getting cracked and wakes up, she just nods from her faraway office like she knew what was gonna happen all along. This witch sure sounds similar to Betty, the seemingly kind doll-like housekeeper who “accidentally” winds up sending us on a convoluted and pointless scavenger hunt for the final sleeping draught ingredient that honestly felt like some sort of test to see what we'd be willing to do if we thought we were supposed to with the way she just happened to catch us right before we went through with killing the fish we already sent into shock with the suspiciously convenient piano… and when we finally do take the sleeping tonic we're captured by Twisted Alice— Wilson, buddy, pal, friend, did your dad have your mom put you through some sort of obedience test, at the end of which she drugged you with some kind of sedative, and that was the reason you happened to be on the loading dock when the crate broke (Betty, honey, I… don't think it was a compliment)…??? Also, wait— why did you make an ink creature who reminds you of your mother the housekeeper? And... oh gross, was my initial assumption as to the meaning of “among other things” correct—?? Wilson, are you not the son of Tessa Arch but Nathan Sr.'s illegitimate son from an affair he had with the housekeeper (a bit Soap Opera™, but… it happens)?!?! Is that why he hated you (also, clearly Nathan Sr. did not learn his lesson, seeing as he was looking for girls to dance with at the Sparkle Unicorn a year after Wilson was born… Tessa, honey, you need a better husband. Blink twice if you need help escaping your current one)?! Nathan, dude, it's your own dang fault if you can't keep it in your pants!! Don't take it out on your kid, ya @$$hole!!!

Riktor sits unsold on the cheese shop man's shelf for years. Sure sounds like how Wilson goes unnoticed by all his coworkers in his dad's studio (or wherever the heck he was working when he recorded that audio log) for years.

Riktor became a “hero” not through his own actions, but by “accident,” just happening to be in the widow's sack when she swung it at the ugly lizard man. Sure sounds like how Wilson just happened to be there when the crate containing the Ink Machine was “accidentally” dropped and broken, setting him on his seemingly noble mission.

Riktor goes off to fight another great Evil that awakened at the stench of death, his adventures not over yet. Sounds like Wilson setting his sights on Gent CEO Alan/Allen Gray/Grey (he spells it all the ways in different audio logs/memos), who's apparently been trying to get the Ink Machine since JDS was still around (I dunno if I believe that, except by a very specific technicality, which I'll explain later) and isn't happy Archgate has it now that Joey's dead, hm…?

My most important epiphany about this story, though, came while I was complaining to my bestie how creepy and nonsensical it was that the “who's the real villain?” attention seemed to be being pulled in even more directions than before, now, and even less attention was being paid to Nathan Sr., his audio logs making him out to be a genuinely friendly and grief-stricken man who didn't know what was going on with the ink machine and was creeped out by its apparent influence… Why the absolute heck was so little attention being paid to the man within whose animation studio/museum two of our main characters – one of them his own son – perished at the beginning of this game and so many of whose previous statements absolutely do not line up with what he's saying now?? Then, I noticed the weirdly specific discrepancies in The Mug and the Maiden, and I realized…

“I just received the call. Joey Drew is dead. What a quiet end to an extraordinary life. Last I heard he was staying in some cramped apartment downtown. You could practically hear the rats through the telephone when he called me last April. In spite of that, old Joey sounded quite happy when last we spoke. More like the excited, hopeful young man I knew once upon a time. Ah, well, farewell my friend. What will become of your creations now?” ~ Nathan Arch Sr., Bendy and the Dark Revival, “End of an Era” audio log

“I'm ready for something different in my career. I've built steel companies from the ground up, dabbled in petroleum, even tried political office once. ‘That Nathan Arch,’ they used to say, ‘He's got the magic touch!’ But I'm hungry for a bit of fun, I think. Something both the masses and I can enjoy. My son suggested movies. Open a studio! Now I love a good film as much as anyone, but the magic of animation, now there's something special! My old friend Joey knew the thrills of bringing characters to life, rest his soul. Maybe with a bit of elbow grease and a small cash investment, I can resurrect the past.” ~ Nathan Arch Sr., Bendy and the Dark Revival, “Inspiration” audio log

“The papers are signed! The animation staff is hired! Arch Gate Pictures is open for business! As of nine o'clock this morning, Bendy and all his little cartoon friends now belong to me. I'll admit, it's strange owning a dear friend's legacy. But I think Joey would be content knowing it's safely in my hands. ‘You just gotta believe,’ he used to say. He was such a showman. Well, I believe Joey. I wholeheartedly believe!” ~ Nathan Arch Sr., Bendy and the Dark Revival, “Grand Opening” audio log

“I haven't had much sleep the past few nights. I usually can separate myself from the office when I get home. But lately, I've been feeling something pulling at my mind. My thoughts fall to the Joey Drew exhibit we opened last week. Outside one or two of the artists, I don't think I've ever seen a single soul go inside. It's a shame how so many of us refuse to learn from the past. The past can give us our greatest lessons. But still, ever since we moved in Joey's old things, there's been a strange feeling around Arch Gate. Like the ghosts of long ago are wandering about. Calling out to me.” ~ Nathan Arch Sr., Bendy and the Dark Revival, “The Exhibit” audio log

…the widow symbolizes Nathan Arch Sr., and there are actually two characters that symbolize Joey— the ugly lizard man, yes, but also the widow's dead husband. We already examined, in small part, how similar her interactions with Riktor's story were to Archgate's interactions with Wilson's; let's get more in-depth examining her story, now.

The widow was already planning on adding her cheddar cider idea onto her preexisting business before her husband died, she was just using distraction from her grief over him as an excuse to kick her plans into gear. Sure sounds like how Nathan Sr. admitted to working on his museum for years before when we find out Joey apparently died, back in TIOL, but then he turns around and tries to gaslight us into thinking that this is a new idea he just had shortly after Joey's death to try and spice up his life while also preserving his beloved friend's memory in BATDR (and, by extension, that TIOL is no longer canon), doesn't it? Also, wow, the repeated theme of alcohol returns, once again. 👀

The widow just goes from grief-stricken, to making herself skip mourning her husband to move on with her life, to suddenly crying about her situation in front of the cheese store man with the big eyes and ears so he'll give her what she wants (including things that don't match what she originally said—? Swiss? You were supposed to be getting cheddar?? And how are you picking up things like some random cat, a personalized pen, and the cheese store man's cash box “on accident???”). Sounds an awful lot like how Nathan Sr. just goes from “oh no! Joey's dead!” to “oh well, wonder what'll become of the Bendy IP” and then kicks his aforementioned plans into gear (and how he, for some reason, grabs that random painting of Joey's I was confused about and keeps this machine which also makes no sense for him to keep if he doesn't know what it does— it could be completely unrelated to Joey as the engine out of some truck or boat that a previous tenant left behind, for all he knows), hm? I realized the cheese store man doesn't symbolize Norman, he uses Norman's image to symbolize all observers of Nathan Sr., Joey, and the situations surrounding them. 👀 Both Nathan Sr. and the widow are putting on a performance of grief to manipulate observers (this also feels like more gaslighting us into thinking TIOL is no longer canon)!

The widow is the best-looking creature in the kingdom, who all the men desire now that she's single, but that seems implied to only be because nobody knows about the beautiful deer woman who lives over the hill. I wonder if it's not an accident that nobody knows about the deer woman, cause that sure sounds like how Nathan Sr. makes himself out to be the most innocent, kind, and intelligent character in the whole series, especially after not only erasing the evidence of multiple people's existences but also writing a whole smear note against Henry in TIOL that seemed to successfully gaslight a lot of fans into believing that Henry might be the real villain. 👀

The widow gets angry when the ugly lizard man tells her he's reformed, saying right after previously saying that she has to go because she has no time and he eats people that it's boring if he's not gonna be the danger in the story which means she came all the way there for nothing (wait, I thought you supposedly came to the forest by accident because nobody in this place can read) and now that's why she should just leave, causing him to panic and beg her to stay while claiming that actually he's not reformed he was just putting on an act to manipulate her. Sure sounds an awful lot like all of Nathan Sr.'s manipulative self-contradiction (e.g. saying he wants to dispel the negative rumors about Joey and then turning around and saying things about him that he really shouldn't be saying if that were his goal) and how I pointed out in my original analysis/theory that he seems to get off on not just turning people into Murder Puppets but also seeing how absolutely brutal he can make them while still having them believe they're in the right and was not happy when one of his favorites' (Joey) conscience grew loud towards the end of his life, doesn't it? Is… this saying Nathan Sr. did something to make Joey play the villain again, after he was reformed…? Might this even be saying that it was under Nathan Sr.'s manipulation that Joey claimed responsibility for a lot of things that he didn't actually do…? 👀

*Stares at the ending of DCTL when Joey claimed that A: Sammy was nabbing random people who stayed at JDS too late at night under his orders when it was clearly implied to be because of his own hallucinations, and B: Buddy had been hired specifically for the purpose of sacrificing “a real person,” meaning someone who hadn't had their soul leeched out by the ink; which doesn't make sense because, for one thing, that should mean they'd already be in the Inkwell without having to die like in TLO, and for another, it's implied Buddy was hired before Bendy (the first ink creature, apparently soulless because Joey's soul failed to merge with him for some reason, seeing as it's heavily implied that Mr. Unger can tell that Joey's hand perfectly matches Bendy's handprint) was even created – heck, before the Ink Machine was even working, seeing as Buddy witnessed Tom bringing Joey blueprints – with Twisted Alice (the second ink creature, who definitely has a soul) being implied to have also been created by the time he dies, so he can't have been hired for that specific purpose*

The widow acts surprised that something in her sack of cheese smashed the ugly lizard man's face, despite swinging it at him like she fully expected doing so to save her. Sure sounds like how Nathan Sr. acts confused and creeped out by the strange energy contained within the museum exhibits in BATDR despite keeping this junker-looking machine as if he knew full well it was related to JDS and having made very ominous comments in TIOL about how he now understands all of Joey's unhinged musings which should also mean he definitely knows what it does, successfully gaslighting most players into thinking that he didn't take the Ink Machine for nefarious purposes (and, by extension, that TIOL is no longer canon), doesn't it? Not to mention his company's “accidentally” setting Wilson on his seemingly noble mission… 👀

Riktor winds up having a lovely friendship with the widow once he “saves her life.” Wilson wanted his dad's attention and approval (what child wouldn't want that from their parent? Poor baby /gen 🥺), but seems to know at this point that the best he's gonna get is showing him he succeeded at life despite what he thought of and how he treated him (or possibly… that he can be a useful puppet too); he tries to trick Audrey into giving him her soul with the lie that they'd be saving his dad's life with his big plans and doesn't even get the extremely messed up “good enough” ending because he gets freaking shredded in his own soul extraction machine (I was not expecting— there were pieces of him on the floor, my gosh 😰).

Now… I want to get into the widow's dead husband symbolizing Joey in addition to the ugly lizard man a little more. I still think I was right about Freaky Teeth Bendy's link to grayscale being a hint that he's Joey, but now I think there's more context around that. In my original analysis/theory, I mused about how it seemed like Nathan Sr. was trying to create a very specific image of Joey in the public consciousness with his notes in TIOL (a simultaneous A: genius and saint whose inventions should be accepted with open arms, and B: perfect scapegoat to take all blame in case we don't… *Stares long and hard at the fandom's reactions to the Memory of Joey*). I also mused on how several characters seemed to have become personifications of different parts of Joey's psyche once inked, but right now I want to make special note of the fact that Susie Campbell/Twisted Alice's story seems to parallel Joseph Dempsey/Joey Drew's in many ways.

I think that the dead husband symbolizes the Memory of Joey, who in turn is the image of Joey that Nathan Sr. has ingrained not only into official real-world history, but also into the memories of everyone trapped in the Ink Dimension. Did anyone notice that… the Memory of Joey literally introduces himself with the intro of the BATIM audio log I think directly addresses that Joey hated being who Nathan forced him to be (“I believe there’s something special in all of us…” Nathan Sr.'s just outright flaunting that this is his version of Joey straight out of the gate)? What about how the nasty mouth-spider monsters we fall into a nest of right before meeting the Memory of Joey for the first time… those were called “Widows…” and the boss one was called “King Widow…??” Or how the followers of Amok, who decorated everything including themselves with Widow motifs, had a whole thing about “passing on the name” when the previous holder dies…??? 👀👀

“Within our isolated walls, Lord Amok reigns. The drips and drops of the leaking world above cannot stop his rule. Those who oppose Amok's hand, have their bodies crushed and fed into the narrow pipes that lead below into forgotten sewers under our feet. Those tunnels are even deeper, even darker, than this one. There is only suffering down there. But, should anyone defeat Lord Amok, cast him down, our small kingdom will belong to the conqueror. This is the secret of Amok's immortality. Pass on the throne, pass on the name.” ~ Unknown, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “Next in Line” memo (emphasis added)

(Holy monkeys does the first red part reek of Nathan Sr.'s disappearing people mafia-style, as well… 👀)

The husband “didn't do much. Until he died…” Does that sound like Figurehead Joey having his image hijacked by his “good friend” Nathan Sr. postmortem to A: create a much more successful business in the real world than he did in his lifetime as a human, and B: meddle much more personally in Ink Dimension affairs, to anybody else…? 👀👀👀

The ugly lizard man, on the other hand, symbolizes Bendy and his Dapper and Freaky Teeth sides, who in turn are the Joseph Dempsey and Joey Drew sides of the real Joey. At the point in his life that Audrey knew him: the healing heart of the reformed old man who tried his best to be a good friend and uncle/father vs. the habitual remnants of the “become a manipulative abuser” survival mechanism brought on by Nathan Sr.'s manipulation and abuse. I'm especially convinced of this after listening to the experiment logs detailing how inhumanely the Keepers treated both Freaky Teeth and Dapper Bendy in their attempts to help Wilson vanquish the Ink Demon…

“Experiment thirteen: The Ink Demon is successfully sedated for transport. Laboratory 9 is prepared for arrival at the receiving bay. Be advised that sedation will not last long. Termination must commence immediately upon reception. Wilson will expect a detailed report of the creature's demise.” ~ A Keeper, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “Experiment 13” audio log (emphasis added)

“Experiment twenty six: Frequent delays due to the Ink Demon's refusal to terminate. Keepers have administered quarter hourly sessions of physical tortures and surgical invasions to wear down his powers. All of these efforts have been ultimately unsuccessful. A new method of control must be devised. Termination impossible.” ~ A Keeper, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “Experiment 26” audio log (emphasis added)

“Experiment forty four: We have successfully pressed the Ink Demon into the form designated as Bendy. He is smaller in size and harmless in this more timid state. His powers are also greatly reduced. Using lengths of steel wire to cut into the side of his body, he now registers emotional responses. There were tears of ink documented. Screams of pain. It was delightful to see such progress. The Ink Demon will remain in this small form indefinitely.” ~ A Keeper, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “Experiment 44” audio log (emphasis added)

…and the way Wilson said, “to truly destroy such a monster, he must be dethroned. Humiliated…” How the actual heck do you humiliate a soulless ink blob and why would that help you defeat him? That line just doesn't make sense, unless… Well, I'll just say that all sounds uncomfortably similar to some of the things I talked about suspecting Nathan Sr. did to Joey (loving to belittle him and watch him suffer, especially in front of large groups of people?? Having him kidnapped and tortured for failing/disobeying too many times, his mobility problems being caused by injuries he sustained during that time??? Etc????) in my original analysis/theory, based on things said in the books and BATDR archive images. Which… doesn't make me feel good about the ending of The Mug and the Maiden…

“…But for now, dear reader, we return to our own lives. So let us end this tale with one closing thought, shall we? Be we cracked, or small, or even dead, there's always a purpose to where we all are led. Be brave, and strong, and lest we forget: Fate isn't quite done with any of us just yet. The End” ~ The Mug and the Maiden: Vol 1 by Sir Wilton Moore, Bendy and the Dark Revival, ch. 5 (emphasis added)

“They promise us peace. But they bring us only more pain!” ~ The Ink Demon, Bendy and the Dark Revival, ch. 5

I think “fate” is symbolic of Nathan Sr.'s machinations, I was right to describe Joey as being “a very-long-term abuse victim who can't even escape his abuser postmortem” in my thought summaries… and this actually might still fit my “the perfection vs. imperfection of the ink creatures comes from the intactness vs. brokenness of their hearts, not the purity” theory, if we include healed/healing hearts like I said Dapper Bendy represents. Anyone notice that Dapper only seemed to turn back into Freaky Teeth after betrayal? When Audrey tells him, “it's okay. I won't hurt you. I promise. It's okay. See? I'm your friend. I won't hurt you,” only to accidentally hurt him with her powers? When she talked to the Memory of Joey in what I suspect was actually Dapper Bendy's hideout, not his (Dapper was just down the hall on both sides of it… the Memory of Joey might've literally just been camping the doors to keep Dapper out and catch Audrey)? When she promises him that they'll stay together and she won't let anything happen to him, then disappears for way too long talking to the Memory of Joey yet again before walking right up to the front door of the laboratory that tortured him alone because he's disappeared presumably in heartbroken fright?? Coming to kill Shipahoy Wilson after it freaking ripped her legs off (and had Wilson's soul banished from it, which – alongside the very fact that Shipahoy Wilson was capable of not just physically existing, but also being alive without his soul in it just like Bendy before Joey's human death and unlike, from what I can tell, literally every single other ink creature, which I'll come back to – tells me that his soul may have been powerful enough to defeat him just like Audrey's, but I'll come back to that, as well) and then save her when she's bleeding out on the cold laboratory floor??? Freaky Teeth literally even calls Audrey a traitor when she chooses to play the End Reel partly to resurrect the Memory of Joey in the end.

“It's time, Audrey. Your road is broken. Join the Dark Puddles and give in to your suffering. You have nothing. You are without purpose. Your very existence was a terrible lie. You're a mistake. A monster. Like me. But I will make you strong. I will make you meaningful. It's time… *Offers his hand, which Audrey accepts* We are one. The daughter of Drew. The power of the Demon.” ~ The Ink Demon, Bendy and the Dark Revival, ch. 5

“…The only important question is this: Who are we, Henry? I thought I knew who I was… but… the success starved me. Nothing left but lines on a page. In the end, we followed two different roads of our own making. You, a lovely family… Me… a crooked empire. And my road burned. I let our creations become my life…” ~ Joey Drew, Bendy and the Ink Machine, ch. 5

Sounds to me like what might've felt like freedom to Joey/Bendy (and Nathan Sr. certainly wanted him to think was freedom) – becoming a monster – was not actually freedom (*stares at my notes on Constance and Susie/Alice's personification of parts of Joey's psyche, particularly how they're both conflicted between feeling bad about doing/being forced to do bad things and doing them because it makes them feel so powerful/in control/etc., and then at how Dapper Bendy admitted he doesn't want to hurt Audrey like Freaky Teeth does* …It was odd how Audrey worded her apology, wasn't it? “I didn't mean to hurt you… and I really don't think you want to hurt me either, right?” It's almost like… she already knew that both Bendys were the same being…), like the kinds of circumstances under which I noted that Joey's “cruel prank” survival mechanism kicks in were when Audrey saw her dad's ugly side, and like Freaky Teeth merging with her in that moment was symbolic of her leaning on her dad's maladaptive coping mechanisms generational trauma-style.

“I reached up and pushed [Mister Drew] away, hard. Harder than I'd ever pushed anyone away before, and he fell back against the wooden stage with a crash. I felt strangely powerful. I also wasn't in any pain anymore. I stood up. I marched over to him. It was my turn to stand over him. He cowered. He actually cowered in fright. I felt really good about that. ‘What did you do to me?’ I asked. ‘Now, Buddy,’ he said, holding up a hand, ‘don't be angry. Just remember I saved your life.’ ‘What did you do?’ I took a step closer, placed my hands on my hips. I enjoyed that my shadow loomed over him like this, filling his small world with darkness. ‘You're angry. You're frustrated. You can't express yourself, I understand, but don't you see that I fixed you? And now you're, you're—perfect!’ . . . He was talking to me like I was stupid. Like I was him, the happy wolf who shares my mind. I know he was excited about it then. I could feel him pulling me, wanting me to go to Mister Drew. But at this moment, back then, I was much stronger than he was. Mister Drew didn't know that. That was my advantage. I turned to him. We stood face-to-face. He smiled. ‘Come with me.’ He extended his arm toward me and I grabbed it. I held it hard, and he cried out in pain. I wasn't going to kill him. I can't kill. That's not who I am. I threw him to the floor. And I stood over him. And breathed for a moment. I ran then. I ran away. Into the darkness of the theater, down the trapdoor and through the vents. I just ran. I disappeared into the building. Into its secrets that even Joey Drew himself didn't know. I hid. I hid and he didn't find me. He couldn't find me…” ~ Daniel “Buddy” Lewek, Dreams Come to Life, pg. 288 and 295 (emphasis added)

*Stares at my notes on how it seems like Joey went into hiding to escape Nathan Sr. after JDS shut down* Maybe I'll be right that there's yet another secret ending that will involve unlocking Grayscale Mode to fully reveal the truth (though I'm sure that'll take a while for anyone to uncover if it exists, considering what unlocking BATIM's Grayscale Mode was like)? Maybe something involving merging the Memory of Joey with Bendy the way Bendy merged with Audrey in the default ending, or separating the Bendys and revealing them both to also be Joey, either way symbolizing that we can only know the truth by looking at the full picture? Or revealing the Memory of Joey to straight-up be Nathan Sr. in disguise (which would support my “Wilson's not actually the ‘new evil’ in the Ink Dimension, it's Nathan Sr.'s soul” theory)?

Back to the fate thing, there's actually a freakish number of “accidents/coincidences” and weird amount of attention that gets called to the “accidents/coincidences” before they get brushed aside in this series. Remember all the ones I called out in my original analysis/theory? Remember that rant of Wilson's I mentioned earlier, about how nothing that's going on makes sense?

Audrey: You did this to me. You brought me here. Turned me into this… this thing! This doesn't make sense! I've never done anything to you! Wilson: Open your eyes and look around you! None of this “makes sense.” Drawn walls. Nightmarish creatures. An ancient studio that died out almost thirty years ago. It's all fiction. Utter nonsense! And yet… in here, it exists. It breathes. It flourishes! Reality guided by its master's pen. The foundation for a new reality we can bleed into our own. Just think of it. Anything we create in here, we can release out there. *Pours blob of ink into hand* But first, this world must be controlled. *Makes a mini Bendy out of the ink blob* Made safe. *Plops mini Bendy onto his suitcase and pokes it until it stands up* These… things. These angels and demons. *Mini Bendy waves at Audrey, she waves back* Are they really life? *Picks mini Bendy back up* Or are they just… *crushes mini Bendy* stains? Old mistakes ready to be cleansed away for newer, greater things?

How the flipping heck does this rant make sense as a response to what Audrey said? It doesn't, unless there's a hidden, second meaning to it. Another riddle? Is he telling us that there's a specific reason that this doesn't make sense? That there's a Puppet Master behind the curtain, pulling everyone's strings, altering our perceptions of reality through gaslighting, manipulation, and complex plots executed in secret, and who sees people as playthings to shape into monsters that may not be who they really are and will destroy and/or erase any who become a liability or that he simply grows bored of? That many of his victims turn to Joey's Illusion of Living “philosophy,” deciding that if they're not allowed to know what reality is then they're going to create their own, better realities in order to cope (which Nathan Sr. of course loves and encourages because that makes them easier to control, so it'll only be safe if someone takes control away from him)?

“…And I got to know the world underground. I got to know the theater and the studio. I watched, hidden, as they were merged together. I watched Mister Drew fire people and hire new ones, and I watched as he tried to make the machine work. I learned that pictures came to life. Like I always feared. Like I always knew. And so I decided to write this down. And I think, I think I'm done. I think I have to be done because, Dot, I'm so tired. And he's getting stronger. Now I'm really not Buddy anymore. I am also Boris. Descending deeper into this world of aging, yellowing madness…” ~ Daniel “Buddy” Lewek, Dreams Come to Life, pg. 295-296 (emphasis added)

Something tells me that the entire reason Wilson speaks in riddles is because he figured out that's the only way he can trick his dad into letting him say what he wants to say… and that the version of him who wrote The Mug and the Maiden did so because he could tell that his dad's Murder Puppet process was working on him… and that he indeed connected to the hivemind, as that one Lost One was worried about, but for much less nefarious reasons than they thought… *Stares at my notes on how Joey seems to have had to jump through hoops in order to be permitted to publish TIOL and then create the hivemind in order to get more S.O.S.es out*

“That Wilson! He's everywhere! Yet he's nowhere! I don't know how he does it! It's madness! Madness!! What if he's inside my head? What if he can hear my thoughts?! Can you hear me now, Wilson? Can you?! You won't get me! I've got a plan! If I tear out my brain then you can't hear my mind! Ha! I'll show you! I defy you! All hail the Ink Demon! Hail! He's not dead, I tell you! He will rise again! And his dark revenge will be terrible!” ~ Unknown, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “In My Mind” memo (emphasis added)

Maybe all that's another reason Nathan Sr. hated him, he really was “one smart mug of cheese…” Too smart to be kept alive— was Riktor putting the cowbells on the skunks symbolic of Wilson warning people about what his dad was doing?! And was the great skunk famine that forced Riktor to “seek a new purpose” and get a job as an adventurer symbolic of Nathan Sr. punishing him for doing so, starting him on his journey to Murder Puppet status?!?! @inkdemonapologist pointed out that TLO calls attention to how these teens seem to have been swept up in the mess they were “for no reason,” they just happened to be in the wrong places at the wrong times (I don't recall any specific parts to quote, myself); now this fairytale calls attention to how the mouse (Brant) and the widow's dead husband (Joey) didn't need to die because there was a nearby cheese store, brushing the reader's questions as to why the mouse did this aside as unimportant? Could… this be saying that the “accidental” events of TLO were not, in fact, accidents?

“Again I shook my head. Didn’t [Constance] understand that this was not how it worked? She hadn’t lived in my world. Any company that could afford such a machine, that could hide it, that had such dark huge secrets, they had to be protected by something huge as well.” ~ Bill Chambers, Bendy: The Lost Ones, pg. 191 (emphasis added)

Bill's right, not only did Joey definitely already have the investors money, at this point, based on DCTL, but he also must've already had Nathan Sr.'s protection, like I pointed out in my original analysis/theory… So, why, exactly, were Joey and Allison in Atlantic City schmoozing Bill's dad? Were they trying to get the richest, most influential, most dangerous man in Atlantic City on their side in order to get out from under Nathan Sr.'s thumb after whatever event happened in between DCTL and TLO to start waking Allison from his trance? And did Nathan Sr. decide to retaliate by causing the very same man to put a price on Joey's head for causing the “death” of his son so that Joey would have no choice but to come running back with his tail between his legs and beg for his protection from Mr. Chambers??? Was the diving board incident sabotage staged to see if Bill was as good at fixing things as the rumors said, and then were the blackout at the party and projector malfunctioning during the ad screening further sabotage staged to impress Scott so that he'd bring Bill into the Ink Machine situation???? Could everything have been orchestrated in order to ensure Bill would come back until he “died” (none of the kids in TLO actually died, remember. Brant and Bill were absorbed by the ink, and Constance was still alive last we saw her. For all we know, she's only in the Inkwell now because it became too much work to keep taking the very, very temporary “ink cure” every single day), specifically?! Except, perhaps… Well, I have a sneaking suspicion that Brant was the only person involved in this fiasco who was never supposed to be there… I'll come back to that in a bit.

Back to Nathan Sr.'s side of things, could it be that behind all the horrible events in this series that get written off as “accidents/coincidences,” there really is “always a reason, even when you can't understand it,” as the Memory of Joey says? There's another very specific and horrific incident in BATDR, itself, that literally gets described as “fate dropping a solution in your lap.” I wonder if this side story, told through memos and an ink window message…

“Management has come up with a new way to ‘reward’ us employees: Instead of paying out bonuses or overtime, they've started handing out these little tokens that you can spend in company vending machines. Besides that, these tokens ain't got value of any kind. Obviously, a lot of people didn't like the idea. But the best part about the whole thing is that, within a week, someone figured out how to make fake tokens that fools the vending machines. We started calling the fake ones ‘SLUGS.’ Now, I can't remember the last time I've seen a real token around here. Them SLUGS are everywhere! Probably costing the studio a TON of money in snacks alone.” ~ Hudson Doyle, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “The Slug Problem” memo (emphasis added)

“Fate is a strange thing. Just when you think you've run out of options, it puts a solution in your lap. Andre stopped by my office to say goodbye on his way out the door. As far as everyone else knows, he's gone home to Rio. But, he never made it. Never even made it out of the kitchen. Little Andre slumped over dead right in front of me. Barely even made a sound. And here I was worried about running out of meat for today's special. Fate is a strange thing. Just when you think you've run out of options, it puts a solution in your lap.” ~ Chef Buck, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “A Bit Of Fate” memo (emphasis added)

…could be yet another of the many incidences there seem to have been of Nathan Sr. A: disappearing anyone who displeases him mafia boss-style, and B: turning ordinary people into Murder Puppets through suffering that made them believe they were in the right by committing their horrific acts, all without anyone ever being the wiser Nathan Sr. himself was even involved? Did he hire the worker who figured out how to make the counterfeit tokens to do so and/or to share the info on how, in order to make sure the studio – especially the cafeteria and snack machines – would be so flooded with them that if he ever needed somebody to conveniently dispose of a body for him, all he'd have to do would be to ensure the person just happens to die in front of this chef in desperate need of free meat? 🤢🤮 And what if this particular story, centered around food, and the fact that so many characters now kill us by “consuming” us, is also a way of Nathan Sr. getting back at Joey, once again twisting his dreams into something horrific to continue punishing him for his disobedience postmortem…?

“An amusement park. A land. A fully immersive place where illusion and reality danced together to create something else. Something wholly new. It wasn't just about fun rides or tasty treats, though of course we'd have plenty of that, it was about an experience. A whole new way of looking at life.” ~ Joey Drew, The Illusion of Living, pg. 204 (emphasis added)

“(After Richie is sent to get Joey because the teens have no idea where else to turn for help and then Buddy describes in excruciating detail all the sensations of drowning and fatal injuries that the soulless Ink Demon inflicts upon him, leading him to beg Dot multiple times to just give up on him and save herself and Jacob because he was beyond saving and he knew it.) The five senses: Touch: nothing. Taste: nothing Sound: nothing. Smell: nothing. Sight: blackness. And then: Nothing [I was already dead when Mister Drew got there]. . . . I'm dead. That's my dead body. ‘You see, I saved you,’ said Mister Drew. . . . ‘That's your body, Buddy. But it isn't you,’ said Mister Drew, crouching beside me. He said it as if he could read my mind. I looked at him angrily. I knew now I couldn't speak. I didn't even bother trying. I pointed instead, at the body's face, torso, legs… Something is missing. ‘Those are just parts. The real you. The real you is here.’ Mister Drew reached up and touched my chest, placing his palm firmly on my ribs. ‘Your soul.’ . . . ‘I saved your soul, Buddy. And you saved me. You're going to save Bendy.’ . . . ‘This is going to be wonderful. You'll see, you'll see,’ said Mister Drew. ‘Now come with me. I've set up a nice little room for you. A nice place. You'll like it. There's food.’” ~ Daniel “Buddy” Lewek, Dreams Come to Life, pg. 284, 291, 293, 294, and 295 (emphasis added)

“Because ultimately there is no conclusion to this story. Even after my death I am certain the story of my life, of my studio, and of my philosophy will continue. Of course, I intend to live forever, so that will never happen! Ha, a joke indeed, but in a way not a joke, for what is art but a doorway to immortality? The greatest Illusion of Living then, living on after we are no longer alive. What is more of an illusion than that? All this being said, while forward has always been my direction, and backward has always been unnecessary to me, I will concede that there may indeed come a day in the far-flung future where I will revisit all that I have done, walk through the halls of my mind, and spend time with the characters of my past. I hope then we can all sit around a table and have a drink—the fictional characters and the real, Bendy, Boris, Alice, Dr. Squier, Isabel Newsome, Mr. K, and so forth—and toast to the great accomplishment they were all instrumental in helping me create: the Illusion of Living.” ~ Joey Drew, The Illusion of Living, pg. 248-249 (emphasis added)

…When I first read that second-to-last paragraph of TIOL, it sounded like Joey was saying he wanted to immortalize particularly interesting people alongside himself or something. But now, with the broader context, I think it's sounding like he was hoping to make a paradise for people who've suffered in life (the scene where Buddy notes he seems disgusted driving through a crowd of his neighbors in their poor neighborhood easily explained by his shame over his own poor-person origins that Brant became, in part, a personification of) and that he couldn't bear the thought of losing. If Norman and Dave were really already infected by the ink (as anyone who spent too much time around it definitely was, seeing as it could slip off pages to crawl into the mouths of sleeping people), they would've already been “safe” in Joey's mind. The only one in that pile of bodies who wasn't “safe” was this boy who reminded him a lot of Henry; these kids came to him for help and Buddy was already dead with zero chance of resuscitation when he got there. Of course he'd try to bring him back, why wouldn't he?? Of course he'd try to soften the pain of knowing his human body was dead for Buddy even if he had to keep up the ruse of the reason behind events to avoid Nathan Sr.'s wrath, why wouldn't he???

What if the Ink Dimension originally existed for Joey's regret but now exists for Nathan Sr.'s revenge? What if it started out as a poorly-executed attempt to rescue those who fell victim to Nathan Sr.'s machinations, including at Joey's hands under his influence (*stares at my notes on how Joey seems to have genuinely hoped his Illusion of Living coping mechanism would help people, and on how he seems to have used the Illusion of Living to pretend he'd saved Lottie's life rather than having lost her to suicide*), and eventually became a prison for whoever Nathan Sr. wanted, including Joey (similarly to my original theories)? Perhaps the machine was speaking to Wilson of Joey's true, original intentions? “Life and death can become a thing of the past. Poverty and hunger, a distant memory. I can remake the world anew…” Maybe the whole “entertaining the masses” angle was largely or even purely to get Nathan Sr.'s approval of the plan, like how it seems a lot of the horrible and/or nonsensical things he said and did were to keep Nathan Sr.'s approval?

“‘…but after that comes the team. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a good one?’ . . . …You have to find the right mix, you have to find men who can work without you looking over their shoulder but at the same time don't feel that urge to add their own personal improvements. At least not without your permission. You need loyalty, so you need people who share your vision. But you don't want them taking over either.’” ~ Nathan Arch Sr.'s business advice, The Illusion of Living, pg. 149 and 150 (emphasis added)

Did anyone notice all the Alice in Wonderland imagery in BATDR? The memo heavily implied to be from Dapper Bendy/Real Joey titled “White Rabbit,” Twisted Alice throws that “tea party” for Audrey where we have to play a game of riddles (remind anyone of the Mad Hatter and Wilson?) with the Lost Ones in Wilson's mansion… Alice in Wonderland imagery joined the hivemind when Bill Chambers was infected. This is all another callback to TLO…!! I wonder… was the Alice in Wonderland stuff how Wilson was trying to warn the kids about what his dad was planning to do to them…? It wouldn't surprise me if he chose Alice in Wonderland for his warning riddles because he could tell Bill was familiar with it and he hoped both of the other kids would have it as fresh and clear in their minds (much like he seems to have done in making his fairytale's main character a cracked mug, trying to communicate what happened to him to Audrey. I'll come back to that)… Was this incident how Nathan Sr. found out that Wilson was helping his victims escape, the incident that genuinely started all the trouble in Wilson's story as the mouse dying supposedly started the trouble in Riktor's…?? Was Wilson being punished off-screen while Joey was collecting the “oysters” who almost escaped as he now had no choice but to do…???

“‘“The time has come,” the Walrus said, “to talk of many things…”’ replied Bill, walking toward it. I followed him. ‘The Walrus?’ I asked, feeling a little concerned. . . . ‘From Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Have you ever read the book?’ he asked, still looking at the machine. I didn't want to admit that I was not much of a reader… . . . ‘I know of it,’ I replied. I was standing next to him now, but I didn't want to touch the machine. Something about it made me uncomfortable. ‘Well, it's a poem from the book. The Walrus and the Carpenter take several young oysters for a walk along the beach.’ ‘Odd,’ I replied. Perhaps odder still was why on earth he was telling me any of this. Why was he acting so strange? It occurred to me then how dangerous innocuous strangeness could be. The beginning of our night together had been such fun, but now it had turned, like overripe fruit. I felt my defenses rise. . . . (About what looking into the machine felt like) A hole, like Alice's from her book. I knew that much. She fell for forever and ended up in a completely new world. I felt a shudder rising in me. I didn't want to fall down any holes today. . . . ‘How does the rest of the poem go?’ I asked, trying to make him feel a bit better. I looked up at the machine. It rose up so high when standing this close. There was a pipe here, large and winding like a boa constrictor. ‘Oh, it just goes on and on, more absurdity, very typical,’ replied Bill, standing next to me and looking up as well. ‘Of why the sea is “boiling hot?”’ But of course that's not true. Was that what the absurdity was then? Just a lie? ‘What's the point of it?’ ‘They eat all the oysters,’ said Bill. He was looking closely at the pipe. ‘I don't understand,’ I replied. ‘They invite the little oysters for a walk and then eat them.’ He tapped on the pipe. It made a hollow sound. He moved his hand and tapped again. The same sound. ‘That's the point of the poem?’ Something about that horrified me. ‘I don't know. But that's what happens.’ Another tap. Another hollow sound. ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘It's what happens.’” ~ Constance Gray, Bendy: The Lost Ones, pg. 147-148, 149, and 151 (emphasis added)

(I'd already noticed, when I first read this, that it seemed like something was telling them that bad things were gonna happen to them. At this point, it definitely sounds like Wilson saying that he didn't yet know why, but he did know that Nathan Sr. was using Scott and Tom to take them on this adventure and “kill” them. Yup.)

“My beam landed on a wide toothy grin. Sharp teeth loomed above me. Like the Cheshire cat's smile, just floating there. But I knew the monster had claws. It looked at me, or at least seemed to. I was paralyzed. I couldn't move. I couldn't turn off the flashlight.” ~ Bill Chambers, Bendy: The Lost Ones, pg. 267 (emphasis added)

(Could this be Wilson saying that the smiling face everyone's so afraid of, aka Joey, is not the real danger, the real danger is the unseen claws who won't allow anyone to escape nor to look at anything but the smiling face, having found out what the reasons behind Nathan Sr.'s plot were?)

“Here we go. This was madness. But weren't we all mad here?” ~ Brant Morris, Bendy: The Lost Ones, pg. 273 (emphasis added)

(This is the line that made me realize we were dealing with a hivemind. Brant wasn't there when Bill was talking about The Walrus and the Carpenter, there's no reason for this line to cross his mind other than someone else's thoughts were entering his head.)

“I started running again. I didn't feel tired, even though my muscles ached. I felt grateful for my rage. It spurred me on. It made me want to get out of here, and most importantly it made me confident that I was right in all my decisions. I knew this was probably problematic in the real world, but in this strange underground world, I was like Alice from the book. This wasn't reality. It was Wonderland. I was falling down a rabbit hole except I was running along it and it was sideways. We're all mad here. . . . Something yanked me from behind. My head snapped in a whiplash and I fell hard on my back, dropping everything in my hands . . . I saw a shadow along the wall, a creature. The monster? No. It seemed to have two long ears. Like a rabbit, or possibly some dog. But it was tall and human sized. And fleeting. The shadow vanished down the hall. It left me. It had attacked me and then left me. I didn't understand. I turned to look at the mess around me. I watched as the poker rolled away from me a few inches and then suddenly vanished [over the edge of the cliff I'd just narrowly been saved from running off of].” ~ Constance Gray, Bendy: The Lost Ones, pg. 277-278 (emphasis added)

(First of all, Constance literally told us she hadn't read the book, so this can't not be more hivemind shenanigans. Second of all, could that second part be Wilson saying both that the reason Joey ran to Atlantic city after Buddy died was to try and prevent Nathan Sr. from hurting anyone else through him and that the reason Dapper Bendy runs away and hides so much, even tiptoeing away if he's not sitting down during battle, is to protect us from Freaky Teeth?? I'll come back to the first part in a moment.)

My gosh, that all adds whole new levels of chilling to the story… and sends me to whole new levels of “I hate Nathan Sr. and wanna adopt Wilson—” he was such a good, sweet boy, the poor baby /gen… 😭 Back to that sneaking suspicion… Does the amount of attention the story draws to the idea that Brant might just be a nobody whose disappearance won't even go noticed not seem… excessive, to anyone else?

“Knock knock! Who's there? Brant. Brant who? That was all my mind could tell me, repeating the same phrase over and over. Brant who, indeed. Did he have a family? Were they missing him? Would the police start looking for him? Brant who?” ~ Bill Chambers, Bendy: The Lost Ones, pg. 216-217

It feels like… this moment might not just be about Bill's emotions. Like it's not just him wondering this because he's been effing traumatized. It… feels like Wilson might be trying to tell us that his dad didn't have a reason to lure Brant in. Like, perhaps, he's panicking because he, himself, doesn't know if this boy's disappearance will garner attention. Like… he didn't think this through enough, and now he's regretting it hardcore. I wonder if it was Brant's “death,” specifically, that got Wilson caught because he did a little orchestration of his own trying to get our beloved Mr. Reporter-In-Training to expose his dad to the world just like Brant, himself, had originally planned to do to Bill's dad, but things really, really didn't go according to plan…?! 🤯 Moving forwards, I wonder if that especially important line of Buddy's at the beginning of DCTL was a message from Wilson, as well?

“This has always stayed with me: Of all the memories that are getting mixed up a bit in here, in this brain, in this head, this… this for some reason just sticks out. Right then when he clapped, the lights came back on. It was like they were waiting for him, it was like he was in control of them. He wasn’t. But I made that connection back then. Somehow it made sense that maybe, just maybe, he had the power to do that. He didn’t. And he doesn’t. Don’t let anyone make you think he does.” ~ Daniel “Buddy” Lewek, Dreams Come to Life, pg. 20 (emphasis added)

While we're on the subject of Wilson and the abomination that is Nathan Sr.'s deplorable parenting (this is the worst possible way I could've been right about Wilson being just another Murder Puppet, oof… 💔🤬), I find it strange that Wilson's scarred-blind (heavily implied to be his dad's fault by The Mug and the Maiden) vs. undamaged seeing eyes are switched in the real world vs. the Ink Dimension. In his human body, his right eye is whited out presumably due to the same injury that scarred that side of his face. In his ink body, the right glows just like Audrey's, Porter's, and so many other characters', suggesting he can see through it, whereas his left is dissolved into black ink on the same side of his head as what appears to be an injury from either falling and hitting it or being bludgeoned. And then both of his eyes are blacked out and he's undamaged in his posters— until you get down to his laboratory and discover that he's subtly colored his posters so that you can tell that his eye sockets are empty and bleeding? There's gotta be some sort of symbolism, there.

Where has left vs. right been important before, in this series? Anyone remember in BATIM…?

And what about in TIOL…?

Angel: Spending my time with a devil has been an enlightening experience. Working with you over these years with you sitting on that left shoulder, so far yet so near, all our debates, they were invigorating for the spirit Devil: So that is a yes [you'd miss me if our human has become only good and I have to leave]? Angel: I suppose it is. Devil: I won't miss you [if he's become only bad and you have to leave]! Fighting all the time, trying to trick you into agreeing with me, trying to push you off that right shoulder of yours. The violence and the anger. I won't miss it at all! Angel: Oh, but you will, dear Mr. Devil. (Pause) Devil: Maybe I would a little.

I think Wilson's posters symbolize the fact that if we allow Nathan Sr. to gaslight us into ignoring the evidence of his crimes, then we, the audience, are blind to the truth behind the horrors of the series. And I think that the difference between the two has to do with how Nathan Sr.'s manipulation and abuse completely and utterly fudges up his victims' consciences (“…most importantly it made me confident that I was right in all my decisions. I knew this was probably problematic in the real world, but in this strange underground world, I was like Alice from the book. This wasn’t reality. It was Wonderland. I was falling down a rabbit hole except I was running along it and it was sideways. We’re all mad here,” as Constance said… To people living in the literal and figurative real world, it looks as if Nathan Sr.'s victims just have no consciences and are evil for the sake of being evil; but, in the literal and figurative imaginary world that Nathan Sr. traps his victims in through gaslighting and so on, they're seeing the good intentions/desperation/etc. behind their actions, and therefore see themselves as good and their actions as justified even if they still have a sense that maybe they're not, in reality) and possibly also the different ways we perceive the results of Nathan Sr.'s actions in the real world vs. the Ink Dimension (not a fully formed thought, feel free to disregard that one). By the way, did anyone notice Bendy seemed to have control of the right hand – that's the hand he crushed the Memory of Joey with – while Audrey seemed to have control of the left hand – that's the hand she picked up the End Reel with – when they were first sharing a body? 🤔 This feels a possible hint that the End Reel was created by Nathan Sr., not Joey, as part of turning the Ink Dimension into a prison (“those tunnels are even deeper, even darker, than this one. There is only suffering down there,” after all)… and that the Memory of Joey/Nathan Sr. is not actually a good entity, but Bendy/Real Joey is, at the end of the day…?

As for Boswell's monocle meaning he was actually Wilson… Exhibit B: Boswell first appeared in 1932; Nathan Jr. and his baby bro Wilson were literally little kids at that point. Exhibit C: monocles usually aren't worn all the time in real life like they are in cartoons, they're usually used by farsighted/longsighted individuals and kept in one's pocket until one needs to pull them out for reading. If Nathan Sr. did have a monocle, he probably would not be wearing it to pose for a painting. Exhibit D: Ignoring that one slightly similar design detail, and regardless of whether the “Nathan Arch” portrait is of Senior or Junior, I think Boswell resembles the round, mustachio'd Nathan much more than the angular, bare-faced broomstick that is Wilson…

…In conclusion: honestly, it sounds to me like people being convinced that Wilson and Nathan Jr. are the same person and therefore Boswell must not be Nathan Sr. is literally just another example of Nathan Sr. successfully gaslighting everyone into an altered perception of reality (and you should just assume from this point forward that when any form of the phrase “Nathan Sr. is altering reality/memories” comes up, you can replace it with “Nathan Sr. is gaslighting us,” lol). Speaking of which, now that I think of it, I'm very suspicious of the fact that the comics where Boswell seems like a decent and oblivious person and Bendy seems to be (trying to) take advantage of him are sepiatoned, whereas the comic that I think got the two main comic artists disappeared is in black-and-white… *Stares at my notes on the possible symbolism of the sepiatone color pallet representing a preserved altered perception and the grayscale color pallet representing an easily destroyed purer perception* Also, my gosh, they make him look so goshdanged welcoming and saintly in his portrait. That smile is glowing with Santa Claus Vibes and I don't trust it.

Curious about Henry and Allison's story retcons being blatant lies and my theories on Audrey's origins, Gent CEO Alan/Allen Gray/Grey's true identity, etc? Read Part Three!

To Read the Original Analysis/Theory: Part One • Part Two • Part Three • Unexpected Part Four

what do you wish Vinnie would’ve had in the show?

favorite Vinnie dance move?

Oh boy, that's an interesting one. Well, first of all, a few smaller things like:

more songs, solo or a duet with someone, I especially crave Vinnie and Zoe duet. Songs where most/all pets sing are great of course, but often you can't hear each individual vocal hence I want something where I can hear him well. We all know he's a great singer B)

basically just more interactions with other pets apart from Sunil. I love my Vinnie/Sunil interactions of course, but after season 1 it seems those two just were glued to each other a lot and there was not many moments when he was interating alone with some other pet because they were always paired together

I'm not sure if that counts for your question, but there is one thing that I haven't seen anyone mention ever - his voice changed between first and second season, did anyone notice that and just never said anything or do I just pay too much attention to him? The voice actor remained the same of course, but it's like? A different tone? Really, if you compare Vinnie's voice from season 1 and any other season he sounds different and I'll be honest, I liked the season 1 voice more, so if it was up to me, I'd leave it like that.

I think that's all of the smaller things, I could maybe add here that I would personally redesign him a bit, but idk if that's what you're asking for so I'll leave it at that.

Now for bigger things that I would have loved to see with him:

this is a classic episode trope but I would have so loved to see it: Vinnie (stupid character [ugh]) by some means gets smarter (like a classic bonk on the head or something) and for an entire episode he and Russell compete against each other intelligence-wise, with Russell being considered the smartest pet Vinnie would want to beat him, and he does. Of course, by the end he somehow returns to his normal self and misses when he was smarter, thinking that he was much better than

another thing is from an actual epsiode, that episode being "Why Can’t We Be Friends?". When watching this episode for the first time I was so sure this was going to be Vinnie episode, with this beggining who could blame me, it pointed at that. Well, it turned out it was more so Sunil's episode, which tbh back then I was delighted about because he was then my favourite character. I still love him of course, but now, I would have loved if this episode (or some other one) was about Vinnie dealing with this whole "I want to eat flies and it's in my nature to catch them and because of my instincts I make a mess which pisses my friends" conflict.

While we're at it, also more emphasis on him being a reptile surrounded by mammals. There's a lot of potential here, you know? He could very easily get jealous of them: they're warm-blooded and so don't have to make double-efforts to be warm, which to him is a luxury; usually people like mammals more and think they're cuter, reptilies on the other hand are cold to the touch, scaly and sticky not all that cute; and what I mentioned before - they have families and he (maybe) does not. All in all, jealousy potential

speaking of which, I would have loved if there was something like that with his dancing. Let him be jealous, or even better - dissapointed when seeing someone else be a better dancer than him - someone who doesn't put nearly as much effort as he does and yet they're better. The thing is, there was very much an episode that could have easily done that - "Plane it on Rio!" when Minka was the one who lead the whole dancing part. It would have been so easy for Vinnie to have some sort of thought process that would go like this: "Wait, Minka is good at dancing and leading us? That would normally be me... A-And she never really dances, she's into painting, how come she's better than me?" or, different but similar scenario that plays with the same thing: one pet, let's say Russell, since in the "in the loop" episode he was shows learning other pets' talents, wanted Vinnie to give him some dancing lessons. So Vinnie does, but very soon he notices that Russell is better than him, he doesn't trip, and once he gains confidence in dancing after some practice he can do various moves easily. Vinnie has been practicing for years and it turns out that all it takes for someone to beat him are just a few days? Oh, the potential disappointment. I love it

Well shit, that's just a lot of angst, sorry :'(. I could probably go on, but I figured that's enough for now, I hope these answer your question because I'm honestly not sure xd.

Favourite dance move? Probably moonwalk, he did it a few times and I think it's great. But I also like when he breaks into some breakdance moves. There might be more that I can't think about on the spot, but if I do I think I will just reblog it and add it. It's important info after all :}.

American Dragon: Jake Long retro-review

American Dragon: Jake Long is a series that was created by Jeff Goode. The series aired on Disney Channel from January 21, 2005 to September 1, 2007. It has 52 episodes (22 minutes each, a few divided by two 11 minutes segments). The first season consists of 21 episodes. The second season has 31 episodes. The series also had a crossover episode with Lilo and Stitch The Series called  "Morpholomew".

Show premise

American Dragon:Jake Long is about a 13 year old Chinese-American boy named Jake Long who plays the role of protector for all magical creatures in United States. He is able transform into a dragon when he pleases, a power he inherited from his maternal side of the family. Guided by grandfather, Luong Lao Shi, Jakes tries to balance his life between being a regular teenager and dragon magical protector, something that it isn’t always as easy as it sounds.

Plot and structure

One thing that made this series stand out from other shows of its era was that there was a bigger storyline that developed through the seasons. Every 4-5 episodes there were events that changed the status quo or continued the story. Characters developed and were explored in different ways throughout the series too.

Season 1 is more episodic with the episodes often acting as standalone stories rather than adding to the bigger narrative. Every 4 episodes or so the main arc is explored or new lore is revealed. Despite of this, the stories still remained to fun. There is still character development and things that are set up for Season 2 arcs.  There are a few episodes that are divided in two 11 minutes segments for some reason. My only guess is that they were still experimenting with the format and seeing which one worked better for the show.

In Season 2 the writing and direction overall changes notably. There is a lot more emphasis in the main story arcs and there are some subplots in between as well, keeping the show more enganging. The series’ tone becomes more darker while maintaining the humor from the first season in character development episodes. In my opinion, this season has a good balance between ¨plot episodes¨ and ¨character episodes¨. For every 2-3 ¨character episodes¨ there is one ¨plot episode¨. That way it doesn’t feel it is going too slow or too rushed. Season 1 had less continuity when compared to Season 2. In addition to this, there is more emotional depth in the stories. As i was rewatching the series, i felt like the characters were given a lot more dimension to them. Their issues became more personal. Some episodes were dedicated to explore how they felt about certain important event and how they dealt with it.

If there is one complain i have of this season is that after the episode ¨Homecoming¨ the main story looses it focus and there isn’t more proper set up for the other main arc. This could be traced back to the fact that these two main stories were supposed to be in two different seasons and the team felt forced to writer them all in one long season in case the show got cancelled.

Another issue is that some important plot episodes like  "Homecoming" and  "The Hong Kong Longs" should have been 44 minute episodes to cover all the things that happen in them. Because they only last 22 minutes, this makes the events feel very rushed, specially in "The Hong Kong Longs" it ruins important character beats.

Characters and arcs

While i talked about how American Dragon has a big plot, the core of the series is its characters and their relationships. The main focus of the show is Jake trying to balance his teenager daily life with his guardian dragon duties. This means most episode conflicts center around him learning things or developing in some way.

The main cast consist in:

Jake Long: The main protagonist and star of the show

Luong Lao Shi: Jake’s grandfather and teacher. He used to be the Chinese Dragon when he was younger and is able to transform in a dragon just like Jake.

Fu Dog: A 600 year old magical talking dog that helps Lao and Jake in their missions.

Trixie Carter: One of Jake’s best friends. She earlier learns about his dragon identity and helps him in many missions.

Arthur P. "Spud" Spudinski: The other Jake’s best friend. He learns about Jake’s dragon identity at same time as Trixie and helps him in many missions.

Haley Kay Long: Jake’s little sister. She is a child prodigy and she is able to use her dragon powers yet not as powerful as Jake’s.

Susan Luong-Long: Jake and Haley’s mother and Lao Shi’s dauther. The dragon powers skipped her generation.

Jonathan Long: Jake and Haley’s father. He is a normal human and he doesn’t know anything about the existence of magical creatures, including Jake and Haley’s dragon powers.

Rose/Huntsgirl: A popular girl that Jake has a crush on. Very early in the series it is revealed that she works for the main antagonists, the Huntsclan. Over time she develops feelings for Jake and eventually learns about his dragon identity. This leads her to change her ways and help Jake with stopping the Huntsclan.

Main antagonists:

The Huntsclan: A fanatic cult like human group who is always hunting magical creatures and becomes a bigger treat as the plot advances. In plenty of episodes, Jake and other dragons’s role is to protect the magical creatures from the Huntsclan  They are lead by the the Huntsman, who serves as master figure for Rose. The Dark Dragon: Not much is known about him except that he is a dragon that once turned evil centuries ago. He is a powerful dragon and his human identity is never revealed in the series. He appears less often than the Huntsclan but he is still a very dangerous adversary.

As you can see, the series has a big cast. This doesn’t mention all the secondary characters there are in the show, which often new get introduced every 2-3 episodes.

Most of the episodes focus in exploring or developing Jake in someway. Jake is a very flawed protagonist who usually can be selfish and act without thinking. In the first episodes he has the habit of abusing his dragon powers to ¨cheat¨ through life and this ends up getting him in trouble. His huge ego is a facade he uses to hide his insecurities, which he learns to overcome over time. Despite his attitude problems, he always tries helping magical creatures in need and really cares about his family and friends. He takes pride in being a magical protector, a role that is important to him.

He also has a very complicated relationship with Rose. At the start of the series he falls in love with her without knowing that she works for the Huntsclan. The same applies to Rose, with her not knowing that Jake is also his mortal enemy. Over time they learn each other’s secret identity and Rose decides to help Jake with stopping the Huntsclan. Their relationship is one of the things that is constanly changing in almost every episode when the plot is about them and its one of the best written parts of the show. Usually there is a problem with how animated shows potray teenage romance but with Jake and Rose’s case is executed very well. What’s more, it a good example of how to do enemies to lovers right and the complications that cause to the characters involved.

If there is one problem i have about their dynamic is that i wish Rose could have had episodes or more scenes exploring her character without Jake having to be in it. I think the series does a decent job at establishing that Rose has a life outside Jake. However, more scenes developing how she feels or her story would have helped her character overall. For example: An episode about how she was raised in the Huntsclan.

Moving on to the rest of the cast, i think the series does a good job a developing most of them. They get their own episodes and side plots showing different sides of their personality and lives. One thing i appreciate about the show is that it has episodes in which the main focus isn’t on Jake but other characters. This helps giving the show more variety and developing these characters. For instance: One of my favourite episodes from Season 1 "Keeping Shop" involves Trixie and Spud taking charge of Jake’s dragon duties while he and his grandfather are busy elsewhere. Fu takes the role of master here and teaches Trixie and Spud how to use dragon powers with a enchanted dragon disguise.

There are episodes that develop Jake’s relationship with his family too. Most of them are great and have sweet moments. Jake has a good chemistry with every member of his family and, because of this, an episode can have a different ¨feel¨ to it depending on the relationship that is being developed.

American Dragon has tons of secondary characters. Some are more memorable than others depending on their story and their evolution. Some are funny while others are more interesting. It’s quite impressive how the writers were able to introduce new every 2-3 episodes and still managed to make it work.

However, in spite of having all these positive things, there are some problems. For starters, not all characters get the same level of development. Trixie is one character i believe that it should have had more than one episode about her perspective. Maybe having to choose between a career she likes and her parents career. Or her romantic relationship with Kyle.

Jake has a few episodes of him learning lessons that he already learned more than one time. Part of this can be excused because it this is a show from the earlier 2000′s and continuity was harder to execute back in those days. The biggest offender of this is  "Game On", an episode that would fit well in Season 1 or early Season 2. Not near the end of the series when Jake has grown past this lesson.

On last point, some secondary characters feel that they have potential was never given proper time to be explored. For instance, Nigel Thrall is set up to be a foil and friendly rival to Jake in his debut episode...to barely do anything with him. I think this comes from the writers trying to put to major plot threads that were supposed to be in two seasons and not in one. This likely lead to some concepts to not be given proper continuation. 

These flaws can be a bit frustrating but they didn’t take my enjoyment out of the show. I think that as long as one keeps in mind that this is an old show and the problems it had during its production, it is fun to watch.

On lore and worldbuilding

I think one of the aspects that kept me enganged during my rewatch was how each episode would introduce some new element about the magical world and how it works. It’s actually intriguing. Every magical creature has its own powers, culture and society. This helped the series with not making it feel repetitive and always have something new to be interested in. I really like how the show team didn’t limit themselves to have two or three types of magical creatures and instead did a little bit of everything. It gives off the impression that the magical world is as big, if not bigger, than the human world. The series often uses dragon lore to represent certain themes such as the changes Jake goes through with his powers as a metaphor for puberty.

Gerenal animation and sound aspect.

For most part the animation looks solid. It’s nothing amazing but it works well for an action adventure show. Some action sequences are entertaining to watch. The characters have fun expressions.

(Jake and Lao’s dragon form designs in Season 2 art style) If there is one aspect American Dragon is controversial for is the the huge change in art direction in Season 2. Most of the characters got a new design, the art style changed to a angular simplified one. Some magical creatures looked like different species from the ones of Season 1. I personally prefer the art style of Season 1. It has a cartoonish vibes to it. It’s more pleasant to see and it fits better the tone of the show. I don’t dislike Season 2 style, in fact, i got used to it rather quickly. My main issue is that it feels more ¨stiff¨ and less expressive the Season 1 artstyle.

As for the voice cast, it’s pretty good. There are some well known voice actors here such as: Dante Basco ( Jake Long), John DiMaggio (Fu Dog), Mae Whitman (Rose). Although there are maybe some secondary characters that didn’t have the best choice and aren’t that good, the main cast does have solid voice actors to make up for that.

On the soundtrack, it is okay from what i heard. It improves in Season 2, probably because there is better direction in that season. They music has a bigger emotional impact to it than it had in the first season.

Representation stuff

I don’t feel like i’m the best to fully judge this aspect of the series. There are some things that haven’t aged well, being a series of 2000′s. There are some innapropiate jokes that wouldn’t be get a pass nowadays and a few writing choices in a few episodes that are rather... questionable.

Something i appreciate about the series is how Jake is mixed race ( chinese-european). His mother and grandfather are chinese and his sister is mixed race. His father is white/european. They all get their own episodes to get developed. There some episodes that explore Jake’s chinese part of the family such as when he visits them in  "Feeding Frenzy" or when Lao teaches Jake about their culture.

One of my favourite episodes.  "Year of the Jake", is about Jake learning to be more involved with his chinese heritage and see to the value in it when he makes the mistake of cleaning the ¨good luck¨ out of his granfather’s shop. The episode takes place during Chinese New Year inuniverse. There are some scenes of the rest of Jake’s family participating in the parade, which is pretty cool.

The female characters in this show are able to stand on their own ground and are treated as their own person. I like the writing choice of not making Trixie Jake’s girlfriend and instead Jake having a crush in other characters. (Mainly Rose). I do wish that Rose had a few episodes about her without Jake having to be in it. Maybe some interactions with Trixie or Hayley, for example. I like her character but i feel like she could have had more screen time for her own.

About the episode order

In a minor note, American Dragon had its episodes airing out of order for some reason. This lead to errors in continuity if they are not watched in the proper order. Things that should have happened took place later, episodes that were supposed to take place before an specific plot point aired later.

Luckily some fans have found the correct watching order, which was very useful for me during my rewatch. This changes quite a lot the pacing of the series too. If any of you ever considers watching this series, i highly suggest using the episode guide to avoid continuity errors and confusion.

In conclusion

American Dragon: Jake Long is a fun series that has aged quite well despite all the years that have passed since it finished airing. It has good charcater arcs, interesting worldbuilding and solid story arcs. It’s capable of having emotional and dark moments without fully loosing the tone that was previously established.

While Season 1 is more episodic, i recommend watching all the episodes for the characters dynamics and development that becomes important in Season 2. Season 2 improves a lot in writing and direction. Most of the episodes are worth of watching since they add things to the characters or the overall story. 

After finishing my rewatch, i think it has become one of my favourites Disney shows from that era. It’s not perfect, but it still manages to be an entertaining show.

Alfyn, the Apothecary: Chapter 2

WARNING! Spoilers ahead for Chapter 2 of Alfyn’s story in Octopath Traveler!

Alright! Time to destroy our hopes of making a difference in the world with the harsh reality of the pharmaceutical business!

I swear, if this story kicks the life out of my sunshine boy...

Well, we made it to Goldshore at the right time! There’s a sickness going through town! And our boy Alfyn’s on it!

His first patient is a little girl! Again. Oh well, he’s on the case!

...Well he would be. Seems another apothecary’s here. One with very suspicious sounding voice clips....

Time to leave little Ellen then. Our sweet boy will continue on his way.

And to Ellen’s mother, ma’am! I was just trying to help! And there’s nothing wrong with being scruffy! Geez!

What a simple chapter! Now onward to...

...No one bought that, right?

Yeah, we got plenty more to cover. Especially about possibly one of the most twisted characters in this game; and frighteningly, one you could see in real life.

Let’s talk about Goldshore first. We’ve made it to the retirement town! Beautiful beaches and a district for the wealthy, you can just see millionaires flocking here to spend their last days. The water blends beautifully with the sand pixels, making use of the 2d-3d presentation. The sand looks great too, great job on the layering. I also like detail of the cliffs cutting into the bricks on the steps, it really sells the coastal vibe. And the sparkles simulating the shimmering reflection of the sun tie it all together. The city itself is simple, even in the fancier district. Just content to let the beach take center stage. This does make the church seem out of place, clashes with the tone. Still nice. Though, you’d think a town this fancy would clean up that boat wreck at the shore...

Alfyn continues to be a sweet boy, nothing new on that front. I am glad I got to see him figure out stuff on his own: he observed Vanessa’s behavior and while he believed her at first like everyone else, once he saw her act in a way contrary to how she was at first, he became suspicious and investigated thoroughly. It’s important to balance his kindness with his intelligence.

I like that this chapter doesn’t just demonize wanting money. Sure, more value is placed on love like the moral goes, but money is acknowledged as something necessary to survive. Love and helping others is great, but you need to support yourself while you’re at it. The problem is when you let your desire for money override your conscience.

Of course we end up having to cure a sick little girl after all. Who is poor. And was sick before this. All to show how depraved someone would have to be to not want to treat her. Hopefully her mom will be more grateful now...

Okay. Did not expect Ellen to say that.

The Caves of Azure were actually kind of pretty, especially the boss room. I really liked how the emphasis on blue worked, and how the lighting hit it.

Vanessa Hyzel...is a scarily realistic villain. Seeming to cure illness, only to give the patient a new one...Hiding behind a facade of charity to build believability so there’s less of a fuss when she overcharges...This could and does happen in real life. Scam artists are everywhere. And we don’t have a lot of Alfyns to stop them.

WAIT, SHE EXPERIMENTED ON KITTENS?! SHE’S GOING DOWN!

Of course she’s a summon boss. Well, at least she explains why they’re there!

Dang. That was cold, Alfyn. I underestimated you. I knew we couldn’t let her get away, but I didn’t think he’d drug her. Okay, he’s not all sunshine and rainbows.

Yeah, I deserve an apology! Not all scruffy drifters are bad guys, ma’am!

The ending was sweet. It’s nice to have your efforts appreciated, even if you only get seashells from some little girls. But, okay! Getting money in this game is not easy, but I’m not poor! And grown-ups can cry! Everyone has feelings! And you’ll get there Alfyn. You’ll be just like your hero.

Maybe even better.

As for the other’s thoughts on observing a pandemic:

H’aanit: It’s nice she appreciates how good he is with kids. It’s good for work! But she will smile when she feels like it, thank you.

Olberic: It’s nice to see someone whose work is fighting praise someone who works in healing. And I’m glad Alfyn doesn’t criticize Olberic for being someone who’s caused a lot of injuries. They both respect each other and share a determination to hone their crafts. It’s nice.

Cyrus: Dang it, Alfyn! Have some more faith in yourself! You’ll get there! And you’re already doing a good job! ACCEPT THE PRAISE!

Tressa: Way to get our hopes up, Tress. Don’t come at me with that sentimental stuff, we got a party to feed! Okay, I kinda like the mushy, value can’t always be measured in money.

Therion: ...Alfyn, you’re scaring me. How does a conscience get pricked? What does he need to be careful about, Theri? I think he has more of that stuff!

Primrose: You just defended crying, Alfyn. Now you’re trying to look tough in front of Prim. Make up your mind. But yeah, he’d be a great father. One day.

Ophilia: ...’Kay. TMI, don’t need to know about your nervous itching, or where it is, but okay. We’ll keep the praise to a minimum. Even if it’s well-deserved.

Now we go to Saintsbridge!

...I don’t trust that name. Kind of ominous.

But maybe that’s why they need an apothecary?

Rewriting Briarlight and Longtail’s Deaths

So I am disabled, like very disabled, I am %50 of the teenagers ever diagnosed with my special combination of pain disorders, and I also unfortunately hyper fixated on warrior cats, which is bad news for me because warrior cats is super ableist, and to add insult to injury, the fandom can also be pretty ableist.

My biggest problem with the majority of “anti-ableist” AUs is that they “fix” the ableism stemming from the narrative and able bodied characters by making the disabled character less disabled, this so bad for many reasons. I’ve talked more about in other posts. The justification that real life disabled cats are less doesn’t make it not ableist, since when was warrior cats meant to be realistic? If you’re making an au where the disabled cats function like actual disabled cats you also have to make all the cats genetically accurate, and retcon Lionblaze lifting a tree.

My problem with warrior cats is not that the disabled characters cannot become full conventional warriors, I’d like it if they got to choose what duties the perform instead of being crammed into the medicine den, but I don’t care about Cinderpelt not being able to complete a marathon. Most of the fandom seems to think the issue is that the disabled character are not useful enough, instead of the way that able bodied characters deny of them agency and make remarks like “you wouldn’t want to return to a life like her’s would you?”. Disabled people do not need to be “useful” to be worthy and empowering.

It’s very obvious that most of the fandom just wants the disabled cats to be more palatable to abled bodied people, so I’ve decided to make my own rewrite instead to hopefully make myself feel better. A lot of these things are inspired by my own experiences and not every disabled person is looking for the same things in representation, this is totally self indulgent.

The goal of this AU is to highlight the many unique and valuable aspects disability and how being disabled does not infringe upon anyone’s worth, ever.

- Longtail doesn’t die in the storm, Briarpaw is still injured, but he’s found besides her, trying his best to help her cling to life.

- after Briarpaw begins to recover he stands up to Millie and other cats insulting her quality of life, he says her journey will be hard, but it is one worth taking.

- She asks him why he’s an elder, and he decides to request to have his warrior ship restored as Briarpaw is dreading the life of an elder.

- On his first patrol the cats accompanying him insist on speaking to him in an incredibly infantilism tone, and whispering amongst themselves over what he can or can’t do, without consulting him,

- He initially gives up on patrolling after that insufferable experience.

- Briarlight begins to create marks and blobs on the wall of the medicine den using crushed up dead herbs she asks him to retrieve some berries for her, and he complies.

- Jayfeather shows him how he navigates the territory with the help of some of the sighted cats, and Mousefur is quick to volunteer as his guide. He finds her company surprisingly empowering. He realizes that it was not his blindness which was limiting his abilities, but the other cats attitudes.

- Mousefur and Longtail return with mouthful of berries and herbs, Briarlight describes to him what she’s drawing on the side of the den and he helps he mound the materials into paint.

- The cats begin to pop into the medicine den to see Briarlights painting and soon Jayfeather has to kick her out occasionally so they’d stop crowding him, she’s given the walls of camp to decorate instead.

- She begins to illustrate Longtails stories of the old territory and Bloodclan, and this new form of storytelling becomes a tradition amongst Thunderclan.

- because more young cats are aware of the clans history it becomes harder for the dark forest to recruit them, unfortunately, Blossomfall’s resentment towards her sister means she never cared to listen.

- Ivypool is still recruited and trained like in canon, given her relationship with the dark forest was much more emotionally charged and manipulative than just plain lies.

- at a gathering Longtail meets Grasspelt who inquires about Briarlight, Longtail is surprised about how little he knows as the she-cat had mentioned how well they got along as apprentices. Despite Millie nagging him not to tell him the truth about her daughter he does anyways, but puts much more emphasis on how well she’s doing than Millie expected. Grasspelt thinks this sounds really cool and decides that he is going to see her and her paintings, and that nobody can stop him. Longtail makes sure to put any opposing cat in their place, but Briarlight is a very respected Clanmate, so most warriors don’t say anything.

- Briarlight is nervous and doesn’t want to come out of the medicine den at first, but when Grassheart darts into the den holding berries and flowers for her to paint with she quickly warms up to her visitor.

- Grassheart is happy to tell Briarlight that he’s never been able to be a “functioning” warrior, and that he has always imagined that his spirit is shaped different, the medicine cat says his body is normal, but he’s never been able to keep focus in a fight or react as quickly as he should be able to while hunting. (He’s autistic because I say so)

- As dusk nears he’s visually hesitant to return to Riverclan and when Longtail inquires on why he says that he hasn’t felt so “here” for a long time. On the way back he wanders off and comes back with a chipmunk, when returning to Riverclan territory his father, Mintfur, is shocked to see his catch. After talking with his family a bit he realizes that it was the noise from the river that was making him so tense and dissociated, Brackenfur, who was escorting him, notices that he keeps rubbing himself on the ground and wincing.

- For the next couple moons Grasspelt returned to Thunderclan to bring Briarlight plants that only grow in Riverclan territory, he begins trying to fish from the quite lazy stream in their territory and soon both him and Briarlight have got it down.

- Longtail notices the sadness present whenever Grasspelt left and exclaims that it’s rather stupid that he’s living somewhere so unsuited for him just because of words long repeated.

- Grasspelt confesses that he feels the same, but knew he wasn’t supposed to say anything. Briarlight tells Longtail that her and the Riverclan warrior had been thinking of each other as mates for moons.

- Longtail accompanies Jayfeather to the next half moon meeting where he proposes his addition to the warrior code, “no cat should be confined to laws which harm them due to an inherent physical or spiritual difference.” (Cats don’t really know how brains work, so they see mental disabilities as a difference within a cats spirit)

- A moon later the leaders meet to discuss this proposition, it is accepted and Grasspelt makes the journey to Thunderclan for the final time.

- Grasspelt is renamed Grassspirit when becoming a Thunderclan warrior, unlike prior renaming of disabled cats this is a celebration.

- Grassspirit spends most of his time taking care of the elders and kits, he’s incredibly compassionate especially with kits and is able to solve many problems within the nursery.

- When twigkit and Violetkit arrive in Thunderclan Briarlight and Grassspirit help raise them, after Violetkit is taken Briarlight and Twigkit paint her on the side of Thunderclan camp.

- Briarlight still gets sick and her illness progresses without any treatment, Grassspirit notices her trying to hide it and when Longtail finds out he’s very upset. Jayfeather frantically treats her, expressing his frustration that she didn’t tell them sooner, the second Millie steps out she breaks down and explains that she just wanted to deal with it herself, and perhaps if she were successful Millie would finally treat her like an adult.

- Longtail gives Millie a stern talking to, he tells her that Briarlight is a warrior of Thunderclan and as her clanmate she should show her some respect.

- Millie is inherently very reactionary, as she had not realized the full extent of her suffocation, but eventually after a couple moons her and Briarlight begin to rekindle their relationship, like adults.

- Blossomfall sees how Brairlight wasn’t basking in their mother’s attention like she imagined, and feels the urge to seek out an actual sisterhood after ignoring Briarlight for moons and moons.

- Briarlight isn’t really mad at her sister, and understands why she felt the way she did. Jayfeather suggests that Blossomfall help Briarlight with her painting, Blossomfall seems put off with the suggestion of being her sister’s assistant.

- The interactions that follow are less than ideal, Blossomfall commends Briarlight’s able friends (Thornclaw, Poppyfrost, Alderheart, etc) for being so nice to her, as if that’s not what friends do. She seems very sad the entire time, sighing when her sister dragged her legs around with her mouth to sit more comfortably, even though she was completely fine. When watching her paint she comments that it’s good she has “something to keep her busy”, and finally she expresses her view, of Briarlight’s injury and her (Blossomfall’s) suffering being all worth it because of her talents, as if her life was not worth living to begin with.

- Briarlight tells her that if that’s truly what she wants she’s going to have to put more effort into understanding and respecting her way of life, and that she won’t apologize for their mother’s actions.

- When Blossomfall has her kits they take a liking to Auntie Briarlight, and Blossomfall seems to have reflected on their past interactions, trusting her sister to watch her kits. Briarlight teases a bit, a subtle way of telling her not to rush things, but they do begin to feel like something close to sisters.

- Right before Briarlight’s Nieces and Nephews are made warriors Longtail dies of Greencough. Throughout the entirety of his sickness he kept his sense of humour, his mean streak, and his immense love for what he had made of his clan.

- At his vigil Grassspirit began whaling like a bird in new-leaf, he insists that the vigil is too sad, and that Longtail wouldn’t want everyone moping around, for Starclan’s sake, his life was good. Standing amongst them, Longtail’s spirit can feel every cat in Thunderclan standing around him, singing the song of a life well lived.

Since the "outlaws & obelisks" tag is pretty barren, i thought I'd do an informational post for anyone who gets curious.

The setting is Utaram, a vast desert landscape that takes inspiration from both the US Southwest and Northern Africa, some decades after a magical apocalypse destroyed the powerful civilizations that had once sprawled across the desert, leaving sparsely-populated towns where people have to band together for survival. Reminders of that cataclysm are all around in the beings, both humanoid and beasts, who have been fused with other forms of life, like Onuris Budge, whose right arm is sometimes an elephant trunk and sometimes other things, and his animal companion (with a higher intelligence stat than him) Nebet, a leopard-flamingo. Wanderers like Chang Hushi, from the ancient Dulungai-Barun civilization far to the west, and Tovo Reeves, a bounty hunter with a mechanical exoskeleton, are not uncommon. With uncontrolled magic still heavy in the atmosphere, unreliable passages of time, and violent gangs seeking to gain influence in a chaotic landscape, threats abound. Budge, Hushi, and Tovo are thrown together in an unlikely quest for answers and a missing hat; as encounter breeds encounter, their goals, and the threats to Utaram, only seem to multiply like the time-displaced chickens in Hushi's bag.

It's quite brilliant, and unlike anything else currently being played that I know of. It's a POC-led, casually queer campaign with real stakes, wildly imaginative worldbuilding, and a series of fascinating unfolding mysteries as to the history of Utaram and the histories of the PCs themselves.

The DM is Jeremy Cobb (he/him), who has homebrewed the setting and cosmology from scratch, with a lot of research into ancient and medieval cultures of North Africa. Jeremy is one of the three hosts of Three Black Halflings, the podcast feed where Outlaws & Obelisks can be found. He also DMed their earlier campaign The Cub & the Caterpillar, using the Afrocentric Wagadu setting.

Hushi (they/them) is played by Connie Chang (they/he/she) of TransplanarRPG.

Budge (he/him) is played by Jonny Charles (he/him) of the_lonely_orchestra, who also provides the show's soundtrack.

Tovo (he/him) is played by Jasper William Cartwright (he/him), another of the hosts of Three Black Halflings.

Below the cut, there's some more spoilery information, including content warnings that people should know going in.

Later additions to the party include:

Episode 3: Panya (she/her), played by Luyanda Unati Lewis-Nyawo (they/them), the third host of Three Black Halflings.

Episode 6: Lu'Luh Jacksplit (she/her), played by Emily Axford (she/her) of Not Another D&D Podcast and Dimension 20.

The tone of Outlaws & Obelisks is among the most serious of the many actual-play and narrative-play podcasts I listen to. There's still plenty of comedy, because you can't have improvised narrative without it sometimes being silly, but it's an essentially dramatic story, with real weight behind much of the worldbuilding. All the players are deeply committed to their characters and unafraid to make big swings and accept the consequences.

And Jeremy is equally unafraid to make those consequences as dire as possible: the second episode ends on a note of such extreme brutality that it carries content warnings for suicide. The fourth episode also includes content warnings for body horror and child endangerment, and in general the show is not squeamish about body horror, given the emphasis on animal fusions in the first episode.

If it sounds like something you'd like, I strongly encourage you to give it a try. Emily's first episode hasn't even been released yet as I write this, but I'm betting she'll bring in some new listeners. Jump on in! The water's fine.

teen wolf characters + texting!!

scott: abbreviates literally every word possible and puts “lmao” or “lol” at the end of every text. types only in lowercase (unless it’s an emergency and then he’ll only type in uppercase) and replies pretty quickly.

stiles: replies in ten minutes or ten days there’s no inbetween. sends you undecipherable text messages at three am and uses emojis for ✨emphasis✨. uses exclamation marks a lot.

derek: says he doesn’t have a phone so you’ll leave him alone. erica finds out anyway. his texts are always really straight to the point and succinct and responds at a normal speed. used an emoticon one (1) time and stiles cried and thought he was possessed. he’s never done it since.

jackson: probably doesn’t have your number saved. he’ll take weeks to respond and when you see him he’ll blame it on his phone battery being dead. borderline insults you in every text and responds exclusively with “K”. you’re this close to blocking him.

lydia: can and will leave you on read. will scold you for abbreviating because “it’s still the same amount of syllables it makes no sense???”. mostly sends you the pictures she took of you / you together or of things that reminded her of you when she went shopping. you can never tell if she’s being sarcastic or serious to the point you have to ask her. she just replies with a yes.

kira: uses exclusively emoticons. will reply almost immediately but she rewrites her reply at least five times. uses exclamation marks and tone indicators and gets you to do the same. messages you after you leave to make sure you got home safe and sends you wholesome memes randomly because she loves you. probably saved as something cute in her phone <3

malia: her messages are chaotic and barely readable but she’s confused when you ask her about it. sends you memes when you’re sad because she didn’t sign up for this oh god turn her back into a coyote. if you spam her she will block you.

liam: sends you memes that are either hilarious or make no sense but he’s got the spirit. probably asks to hang out a lot. messages you weekly for homework help and offers to pay you to do it for him. you’re not even in half his classes.

mason:

“hey can you help me with-“

“sorry can’t I’m gay ”

messages you to talk about tv shows you both like and always has something interesting to say. will text for like an hour than disappear of the face of the earth for like a week. uses tone indicators.

corey: has one number in his phone. it’s mason’s.

theo: one word texts baby!! unless you’re liam because he’s in love with you and craves your validation. would say something really deep or open up to you then stick a “lol” or “jk” on the end.

isaac: never uses emojis or emoticons. he says it’s because he’s “too cool” for them but really it’s because he never knows which one to use. he replies pretty quickly but never texts you first. he probably types in lowercase for the aesthetic of it all. definitely has an embarrassing contact picture saved for you.

boyd: texts you more than he talks to you in person. a really chill texter who can talk about anything for hours. uses smiley faces a lot. you could text him when you’re feeling sad and he’d 100% make you feel better but nobody knows how he does it. isaac calls it witchcraft. nobody can fully disprove this.

erica: puts “omg” in the beginning of every text even if it makes no sense in the context. basically talks like she’s on stan twitter and derek has to use urban dictionary to translate her messages. responds in ten minutes if she likes you and she’s feeling nice. swears a lot. probably calls you a lot. provides isaac with the embarrassing contact pics.

allison: prefers calling/voice notes and only texts if she had to. doesn’t have a texting style - it changes depending on who she’s speaking to. types fast and makes typos which irritates the hell out of lydia. probably also swears a lot. usually forgets to reply and then she feels guilty.

danny: his messages always sound disapproving and make it sound like he hates you, which lets let’s be honest - he probably does. after you message him enough times he starts to warm up to you and starts to message you first.

peter: has everyone blocked. he’s too old for this bullshit.

Translating Kaeya’s Voiceline: About Albedo

As a Chinese fan, I will be doing an unofficial translation of Kaeya’s Voiceline “About Albedo” from Chinese to English, with more in-depth translation and character notes under the cut. I feel the English translation missed a lot of nuances, though it’s true that Chinese has a lot of colloquial terms with no direct English equivalent.

Official Chinese version

阿贝多啊，沉稳优雅的小帅哥，而且才华横溢，是很讨人喜欢的类型。怎么，你也心动了？

My English translation

Albedo, huh? That calm and graceful little Kreideprinz, not to mention incredibly talented in many fields. He’s quite the likable type. What, you’ve fallen for him as well?

Official English version

Albedo, eh? Calm, collected, and incredibly talented. He's the type everybody likes, some even more so than others. What, you into him as well?

—-

Let’s take a closer look.

“阿贝多啊，沉稳优雅的小帅哥，而且才华横溢，是很讨人喜欢的类型。怎么，你也心动了？”

Point 1: Kaeya calls Albedo a 小帅哥.

--

小帅哥 is a colloquial term/pet name for boys/guys that literally means “handsome guy”, and can be used in a romantic or platonic, or familial sense (e.g. a mother about her young kid dressed for graduation “Look at you all dressed up! So handsome”). Although, in a teasing sense, WITHOUT considering Genshin-specific subtext, “little hottie” might be closer tone-wise (小 means “little”, probably referring to Albedo’s height).

沉稳优雅 is not one phrase, but two different adjectives. 沉稳 is “calm” and 优雅 is “graceful”, “elegant”, etc. 才华横溢 can be translated to “talented in many subjects”.

So on a VERY literal level, 沉稳优雅的小帅哥 can be translated to “a calm and graceful little hottie”, but that already sounds weird (elegant words paired up with slang). And I can’t ever imagine the formal Kaeya using the word “hottie” to describe anyone. It’s understandable why the English translation decided to directly cut the “handsome” part.

--

But there’s a way around this. Let’s look at Genshin’s context.

This is Kaeya’s voiceline about Albedo.

Kaeya, a highly intelligent and observant individual (voice lines comment on 12 Mondstadt characters, 8 of which are of the Knights), about Albedo, another highly intelligent and observant individual. No doubt Kaeya’s comments about Albedo are detailed and precise. But Kaeya is also known to be teasing and often flirts with the traveler. Now pair that with a nickname for Albedo. Maybe something exclusive to Albedo would fit?

For example, “little Kreideprinz”?

---

Point 2: Kaeya says to the Traveler 你也心动了？

--

你也心动了？can be translated to “You’ve taken a liking to [someone] too?”

But it places emphasis on the listener rather than the speaker. In this sense, Kaeya is teasing the Traveler about being interested in Albedo (considering the previous line was about Albedo being likable). Is Kaeya interested in Albedo too? But he’s (as always) redirecting the focus onto the traveler rather than himself and his feelings.

Teapot Dialogue: Friendship level 4

Traveler: So what you mean is, you drink to numb the pain?

Kaeya: Goodness, look at you, leaping to conclusions... Do I look like I've been through that much?

Considering his past has been very painful, this is defensiveness and lying.

---

Official English translation’s “He's the type everybody likes, some even more so than others. What, you into him as well?” does reflect Kaeya’s interest and it’s him poking fun at the Traveler, but I feel Kaeya wouldn’t reveal his feelings that directly, so I’d say it’s more fitting if he’s more subtle and hides it behind dramatic words -- something he does often.

So I think we can word it as “What, you’ve fallen for him as well?” to bring the attention towards the traveler.

-------

Therefore

Official Chinese version

阿贝多啊，沉稳优雅的小帅哥，而且才华横溢，是很讨人喜欢的类型。怎么，你也心动了？

My English translation

Albedo, huh? That calm and graceful little Kreideprinz, not to mention incredibly talented in many fields. He’s quite the likable type. What, you’ve fallen for him as well?

Lost in Translation: Choujin X chapter 1

Fun fact, I was planning to do fan translations for Choujin X with a scan group until it could get a simulpub release, though I didn’t expect it to get one from the very first chapter lol. I’m happy though since it means everyone can read it right away and it doesn’t mess up my schedule.

So instead I’ll be making comparison notes between the EN and JP text to supplement the official translation. I’m not doing this because the official TL is bad (I actually think it’s pretty solid and I hope it will maintain this quality) but because it’s inevitable for something to be lost in translation, and it’s nice to have that additional context for theory crafting and whatnot.

If you want to read it on Twitter instead, the original thread is here, but this is the proofread and way more detailed version 😄

This translation isn’t wrong, but there’s an emphasis on それ (which is TLed as ‘it’) that connotes a stronger, “other, that thing” feeling that isn’t present here. The general idea behind this sentence is: That [becoming a Choujin] resembles more of a disease [than a transformation].

Ely talks like a tomboy, she uses rougher speech patterns and the pronoun オラ (ora), a derivative of the masculine 'ore'. But it's a bit old-fashioned (eg. すまなんだ) which makes sense considering her upbringing with her grandfather on a farm. Hence her country bumpkin speech pattern in English.

Not sure if I should use Ellie or Ely? Ellie makes more sense based on the kana, but Ishida explicitly called her Ely so I might stick with Ely for now... (also istg that blond guy with the huge chin is a reference, I've seen him somewhere)

Tokio, I know your teacher is annoying, but it's rude to call her that lol. This is basically the oppai equivalent of paisen (senpai backwards, it’s slangier). Similar thing actually happened with Ely describing her dream hubby as Goldilocks instead of blond; ‘kinpatsu’ (blond hair) was inverted to become ‘patsukin’, hence the translation as Goldilocks.

Kurohara Tokio (黒原トキオ) and Higashi Azuma (東アヅマ). Kurohara is a common surname, means 'black fields'. Tokio is in katakana, so it’s hard to say what kanji it could be. 'Toki' could be 時 (time) or 外喜 (outside + delight). The 'o' can be the common male name suffix 男 (boy).

But when I think of Tokio, I think of TK's song called 'tokio'. You can read the translated lyrics here. If these lyrics end up being relevant to Tokio's character development I will eat my shoe lol.

Higashi means 'east'. Azuma (which can also be romanized as Aduma, it’s a softer ‘zu’ sound which is why Tokio called Azuma ‘Aju’ earlier in the chapter before correcting himself) is an archaic form of ‘east’. So...this guy is literally East East. The Choujin X equivalent of Moon Moon 😂

Someone also informed me that Higashi Azuma is a station in Tokyo, though the kana are slightly different (アヅマ／あづま vs. あずま). They effectively sound the same though nowadays, if I have to be honest. It’s like comparing the difference between 애 and 에 in Korean.

Tbh this is minor, but worth mentioning just cause it changes the meaning a bit. Tokio is saying something more like, “Why are we even talking about this [the roly-polies] again?”

I think I heard people talking about how the official TL doesn’t match the original text, but personally I really like how this was translated! Sis is using the expression  「爪の垢を煎じて飲む」, which literally means “boiling the dirt under someone’s fingernails and drinking it”. By taking the dirt/grime under the fingernails of someone that you admire, and boiling it and drinking it like a tea, you can become more like them.

But because idioms don’t tend to directly translate well between languages, translators often have to adapt it so that the meaning still remains the same. In English the closest idiom we have to this is “rubbing off on someone.” The “holding hands” bit was added to replace the physical aspect of “taking the dirt from someone’s fingernails” and also contribute to Sis’s sassy and very informal way of speaking.

So Sis is saying in JP (ignoring her personal speech style for now):

You should take the dirt from under [Azuma's] fingernails and boil it so you can be more like him.

And now in ENG it becomes:

You guys should hold hands or something, then maybe he’ll rub off on you.

It now sounds natural in English, still carries the same meaning as the original text, and also suits the character’s speech pattern.

Moving on, in that same panel the literal TL of Tokio’s dialogue is, “Policeman Azuma got dispatched again today,” emphasizing Azuma’s heroic deeds along with his family connections to the police. Another thing I want to note is that this is the second time Azuma has been called 偉い (erai) so far - noble, and now great guy. I’ll just dump the general English definition of 偉い from Jisho here so you get the general idea:

Great; excellent; admirable; remarkable; distinguished; important; celebrated; famous; eminent

But you can tell from how people describe Azuma as 偉い that others look up to him, think he’s a great person and Mr. Perfect. Always being placed on a pedestal by others. (What are the odds this will affect his mentality after the Choujin serum?)

The meaning is still pretty much the same, but I’ll offer a slightly different perspective. Sis mentions that if she were Tokio, she’d burst from the [Azuma] complex. (Clearly Tokio and Azuma's relationship is gonna crack at some point)

Tokio mentions an idiom about hawks (taka) before recalling his childhood memory about vultures. Vultures are called 'hagewashi', but in the chapter it mentions they can also be called 'hagetaka' (buzzard/condor, literally bald hawk).

The kids call him names like "Hagetaka Tokio" and "Hageo". But Hagetaka Tokio only really works in JP cause Hagetaka kinda mimics his last name (Buzzard Tokio doesn't give the same vibe). Same with Hageo. Hage-o = Bald-o = Baldy.

I also think Buzzard was chosen over another name for a vulture like Condor because Buzzard can pass off as an insult.

I would have translated this as, “I wanted to be a lion too...” but this is just personal preference.

A continuation of the 「爪の垢を煎じて飲む」 expression Sis used earlier. Without the adapted idiom the exchange goes something like this:

Tokio: My sister said I should bring home the dirt from under your nails. Can I have some?

Azuma: ...huh? What for, that’s scary. No way.

Tokio: I have to boil it and drink it, apparently.

Azuma: Don’t even think about boiling or drinking it.

But since the 「爪の垢を煎じて飲む」 expression was modified to make it sound natural in English, it means this conversation has to be modified too.

JP: My sister said I should bring home the dirt from under your nails. Can I have some?

EN: My sister says we should hold hands...so I can be more like you. What do you think?

The “dirt from under your nails” part got adapted to “holding hands”, hence how the 1st line from Tokio becomes, “My sister says we should hold hands...so I can be more like you.” “Can I have some?” makes no sense now in this context now, so it was changed to “What do you think?” as a question to Azuma to keep the similar conversation flow going.

JP: ...huh? What for, that’s scary. No way.

EN: Huh? What’re you talking about? No thanks.

Azuma’s next line is similar enough to the JP text except for the removal of “scary”. I think the reason it was most likely removed is because leaving it as it is could be constituted as homophobic (2 boys holding hands, absolutely nothing scary about it as bible thumpers would like people to believe).

JP: I have to boil it and drink it, apparently.

EN: She said to hold hands so you’ll rub off on me.

Tokio’s response to that is explaining what he meant by his proposal. In the original text he lays out the latter half of the idiom (he doesn’t even realize it’s an expression, poor boy), and in English he does something similar by going into why his sister said they should hold hands (so Azuma can rub off on Tokio).

JP: Don’t even think about boiling or drinking it.

EN: C’mon. That’s not how things work.

Azuma’s then rebuts Tokio’s proposal as ridiculous. In the original text he drops a typical straight man response (don’t do *insert whatever ridiculous thing the idiot suggested*). But since Tokio’s proposal in English isn’t as preposterous, his rebuttal is toned down in response by telling him not to take it literally.

Ultimately, even though a lot of this dialogue was changed, I still think it was successful in maintaining the original’s intent. Tokio takes his sister’s sarcastic suggestion literally and brings it up to Azuma, who dismisses it as silly. It would be nice if we could keep the expression as it was in Japanese, but in instances like this where it’s played off of in multiple lines, that’s easier said than done.

軟体 isn’t an actual word, it’s made up of the kanji soft + body. So kinda like Elastigirl, but Flexi was chosen instead. It doesn’t sound 100% right, but I don’t think I could come up with anything better.

Replacing the しい in 楽しい with the C plus that elongated pronunciation makes Johnny sound even more like a stereotypical Yankee, which is why he sounds like that in English 😂

Random but I found it interesting how Azuma called Johnny a youkai (妖怪) instead of something like bakemono (化け物) or obake (お化け) since they’re shapeshifting monsters.

Tokio is worried that if he doesn't do something right now, he's going to lose his friendship with Azuma. The sentence is fine as it is though.

Azuma’s line can also be worded as, "No hard feelings, okay?"

Bestial = 獣化 (juuka) = beast+change = beast transformation

That’s it from me, if you have questions about the TL feel free to send an ask or reply to this post, I promise I’ll check my inbox more often this time 😂

The First Two Weeks of Dream SMP Season 2: In Review

So two weeks of Dream SMP Season 2 have passed, and so far it’s been unlike any post-war period before. Far from being a peaceful lull, Season 2 has been perhaps the most chaotic, tension-filled, dramatic “peacetime” the SMP has ever had.

Let’s summarize!

---

Overall, the tone of Season 2 has been both similar to Season 1 while taking on some new changes. For one thing, there’s a far greater emphasis placed on lore, backstories and family dynamics. 

Questions from the ridiculousness of Season 1 are being answered in Season 2, sometimes with some strange or cursed-sounding results. For example, the circumstances of Fundy’s birth were mostly a joke in Season 1 (I’m pretty sure they went literal months without even mentioning Sally’s name once), but now that there’s effort being made to explain it, as well as the birth of certain other Sleepy Bois, we’ve gained some...interesting...developments...*cough* Phridge *cough*

Since Season 1, Tommy’s become a Sleepy Boi and is therefore incorporated into the SBI family dynamic, especially now that Philza’s joined the server. Ranboo may or may not be Niki’s brother? Fundy and Dream are getting married soon, and Puffy and Niki have a romance as well.

New Members:

In one of the largest waves of new members in SMP history, several new people have been added to the server in a very short amount of time. 

Philza

Captain Puffy

Connoreatspants

Vikkstar

Lazarbeam

Ranboo

---

Schlatt’s Funeral

Schlatt’s funeral, overseen by Badboyhalo, was held at the edge of New L’manberg. His organs were looted by the citizens. Everyone keeps hinting at possibly reviving Schlatt somehow. Currently, Schlatt’s remaining organs are kept on sale in Puffy’s L’Targay, a new structure on the server replacing Purpled’s Walmart.

Ongoing/New Building Projects

Some important ongoing building projects / new builds include: Karl’s Party Park, HBomb’s L’Cast, Vikkstar and Lazarbeam’s Boomerville, the Prime Path Shops, Purpled’s Skull Base, Awesamdude’s Place of Business, Punz’s house and Eret’s Museum

Important Plotlines/Character Updates: 

Tommy’s done his best to make everyone on the server angry with him, which has currently led to the border skirmish plotline going on right now. He’s destroyed Puffy’s house, George’s house, griefed Fundy’s house and moved Ponk’s tower, leading to some animosity with all of them. His griefing of George’s house especially has  led to Tommy being on probation. Will Tommy be exiled? Or will this lead to another war? L’manburg is looking awfully flammable right now.

One of the other main plotlines that’s been going on has been Fundy’s character arc with Wilbur. Now that Philza’s on the server, and Wilbur’s perma-dead and ghosty, Fundy’s family drama can finally come to a head and break some hearts. Fundy reprises his role as the “main character” of the story for this particular plot, something that hasn’t really happened since the Pet War. This arc started at the very beginning of Season 2 when everyone was rebuilding L’manburg.

Related is the arc of Ghostbur in particular. Wilbur’s stuck around after death, seemingly for some “unfinished business.” He doesn’t remember any negative memories, and continually forgets them whenever somebody tries to hold him accountable for his past crimes. Will Ghostbur ever settle his issues and gain a peaceful rest?

There’s been some talk of the Disc War Continuation in the future, especially concerning the Badlands. Skeppy still has one of Tommy’s discs, but who knows when that drama will sort itself out. Dream brought up the discs when talking with Tubbo about exiling Tommy. While Skeppy has one of the discs, Dream wants to put Tubbo in a tough enough position that Tubbo has to give Dream the other disc, which would put both discs functionally in his hands.

The Dream Team has been a lot more active on the SMP recently, which is interesting. George, the new king, is actually on the server! So far he’s mainly participated in multiple dress-up roleplay sessions, cosplaying Simpsons characters, Professor Snape, and Dream himself. Sapnap has streamed recently as well, continuing his ongoing relationship drama with fiancés Karl and Quackity. Dream has gotten himself into some shenanigans, including vandalism and muggings, and is currently reprising his role as the main Big Bad of the server. It’s almost strange seeing them so active on the server again, but a welcome change! Even Callahan’s dropped by to join in - the SMP’s funniest reindeer, everyone!

Quackity may or may not be possessed? Puffy’s mentioned that Quackity wants to bring back Schlatt, but Puffy is currently in possession of all of Schlatt’s body parts. She’s also mentioned that Connor is looking to revive Schlatt as well. Connor hasn’t gotten super involved in the storyline yet, mostly just vibing on his own, but perhaps he will eventually. Quackity has also taken the role of honorary vice president in Tommy’s absence. 

Tubbo’s been acting a little strangely as well too, recently. While he’s been the most responsible president of L’manberg by far, he’s shown that he’s not immune to corruption, to the point where even Philza’s started questioning loyalties to L’manberg. Tubbo’s handling of the situation with Tommy shows maturity, but when he’s put between a rock and a hard place, what will come first? Tommy or L’manburg? And is Tubbo prone to the same corruption that Wilbur and Schlatt went through?

Meanwhile, Techno’s almost nowhere to be seen. He terrorized Fundy a bit at the beginning, and he’s logged on to say his own name of course, but besides that the Blade has been remaining as mysterious as ever. Wanted posters bearing his image have sprouted up all over New L’manburg.

One side effect of Fundy’s adoption plot is the plotline’s relation to Eret, who has been dethroned. Will Eret try to take power back from Dream? What will their relationship be as father-in-law and son-in-law, if the adoption goes through? 

The newest members - Phil, Puffy, Connor, Vikk, Lazar and Ranboo, have all gotten started settling into the server. Who knows what their relations will be to the plots? Will they get involved, or stick to the sidelines where there’s peace? 

So far, besides Phil of course, Puffy and Ranboo have been the most involved in the main plot. Dream seems to like getting into chaos on Puffy’s streams in particular, having her as a “witness” to his actions. Puffy is an agent of chaos herself and has unofficially “adopted” Dream as a sort of pet, driving her loyalties towards the Dream Team. Despite this, she has also been on a date and promised herself to Niki, who is of course loyal to L’manburg. If Puffy ends up siding with Dream, will Niki be able to keep her loyalty to L’manburg, or will she switch sides to be with Puffy?

Meanwhile, Ranboo has been suggested to be Niki’s brother and was an accomplice to Tommy’s crimes against George. Tommy defended Ranboo from consequence, but considering how short of a time it took Ranboo to get wrapped up in the plot, who knows what will happen in the future?

Vikkstar and Lazarbeam have also joined the SMP as a pair, and similar to Connor, they’re currently just vibing doing their own thing in a new town called Boomerville.

The Elytra Challenge should be happening soon? Maybe? Whoever gets the elytra will have a huge bargaining chip on the server, an item as valuable as the discs or Spirit’s leather. What that also means is, there’s the possibility of them also having a target on their back...

In Summary: 

We really need that beach episode.