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presiding · 5 months

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a doctor turned serial killer turned doctor again, an actor who paints, a gang leader, a mining baron, and a vice overseer walk into the room.

oh yeah and they lead karnaca now.

dishonored 2 is my fav game but i think it's mid, story-wise. here's why dh1 works and why dh2's overarching story sorta misses

tl;dr: story integration is critical for gameplay that offers audience payoff, but emily's personal arc from dishonor to honor is inconsistently demonstrated in the story, and is not an interactive part of the gameplay.

essay/long version under cut >

recap: what's dishonored's deal

[skip if you want] dh1 is an underdog story: corvo is an honorable man swept up in the machinations of a callous city, so his canonical ending being 'this child will rule over an empire' isn't about the child's rule but rather about corvo's reputation being restored in a more hopeful city, due to his & the player's rejection of the violent connotations of the tagline 'revenge solves everything.'

similarly, in dh1 DLCs, daud's story arc is that of an anti-hero: a dishonorable man who realises too late he has done irreparable harm. he sees the error of his ways after a single monumental death, and eventually a single life redeems him when he/the player stepped in to circumvent a terrible fate for a child, enabling her to rule unfettered.

daud & corvo come to a satisfying conclusion within the extent of their narrative arcs. it doesn't matter that a child on a throne isn't really a fix for a decaying empire - the player's actions throughout the city of dunwall was what mattered - and these stories could be framed as parables. in that sense, young emily as a ruler is a metaphor for a hopeful future for the city & empire.

dishonored 1 & its DLCs are also great examples of storytelling with perfectly integrated gameplay - you, the player, worked towards the outcome that redeemed the protagonists.

in your efforts to save young emily, you either achieved a good outcome (corvo) or prevented a worse outcome (daud).

bringing us to dh2 -

what's emily's arc

emily's arc is a coming of age: we're introduced to a reigning empress who questions her role & skillset ("am i the empress my mother wanted me to be?"), then her titular fall from grace occurs. from there, she learns to reject the violent, selfish connotations in 'take back whats yours' tagline (a la daud & corvo!) while rediscovering why her rule is critical to the empire.

emily's rule is no longer metaphorical, but:

a literal thing for audience assessment (is emily a good ruler?) AND

the crux of her storyline.

at the beginning of dh2, emily is introduced as a disengaged leader ("i wish i could just run away from all this;" "i dont know if whether i should sail to the opposite side of the world, or have everyone around me executed"). the antihero has a precedent for the dishonored series in daud, so it's not at first glance an issue*, however, the fact that emily has ruled poorly reframes corvo & daud's endings as being less than ideal (a moralistic retcon) *we could talk here about how ready an audience was in 2016 for a flawed women as a protagonist, hell, even in 2023,,,

throwback to the beginning of this essay when i said:

'this child will rule over an empire' isn't about the child's rule but rather about corvo's reputation

emily's story arc, unlike for daud & corvo, is literally about the quality of her rule. we're no longer in metaphor territory (ironic phrase): a parable-style ending doesn't work.

does emily become a good ruler

we know she becomes a good ruler because the game says so. it is narrated to the audience via a (literal) word of god in the space of 30 seconds, after the final boss. the outsider tells us that emily becomes known as Just & Clever.

drawing a distinction here - this narration is not the same as the player actively being involved.

the player does not throughout the game become aware that emily has made political allies. during the game, she doesn't talk to these characters about saving karnaca or being a better ruler to the empire (there's a few lines might imply it, but you need to be actively looking and being careful to wait for every voice line. it's a far cry from daud & corvo's fight to save emily being unmissable - even though daud doesn't know at the beginning that's the goal).

how does the game show it

you can coincidentally not kill most of your subjects and never be aware that emily is looking to restore karnaca by means of instating a council - it's never brought up. it *couldn't* be brought up, because that council serves under the fake duke (armando), who is the last person she speaks to before she leaves for dunwall. its her suggestion that he rules karnaca, but armando's condition is that he will rule as he sees fit.

to back up a bit, emily's canonical method of restoring karnaca is by banding together key allies - hypatia, stilton, [byrne &or paolo], pastor, under a council beneath the duke's body double. they are passionate people who would each individually make worthwhile advisors, but if you think about those characters sitting at a table trying to reach an agreement, it feels like an assortment of people that emily didn't kill along the way and doesn't feel organic (up to interpretation). it's not stated if emily herself banded this council together, but logically she must have (worth a mention these are mostly characters that you as the player had reasonable rationale to kill during a high chaos run, except pastor). the underlying concept may be that karnaca's power is returned to its people - which is interesting given that the monarchy remains and armando's decision is final.

this overarching solution could also be taken as a critique to dh1's 'put your kid on the throne,' which is another reason its worthwhile looking at how emily was shown to be a better leader. obviously my point isn't that her solution was bad given the circumstance, but i mean she has very little agency here in all. if emily was shown to be more controlling as a leader, this could be interpreted as character growth, but that's not the case.

coming of age

how do you learn & grow when you can't specify your failings? emily doesn't really touch on her shortcomings as an empress. she non-specifically worries delilah makes a better empress than her. it's hard to argue her worries are meaningful when someone good at their job will still worry when lives are in the balance.

emily's best 'aha' moments (eg. crack in the slab comment about gaining perspective) are consistently undercut by a conversation with sokolov or meagan afterwards in which she demonstrates she hasn't learned anything (before the grand palace, emily condemns 'toadies sucking up to me' and is reminded by meagan that she's part of the problem). the story is confused about what it's trying to say about emily's progress, and when she's meant to show progress, if she was meant to show any progress at all. it could be argued that emily was never even a bad ruler, she had just been fed misinformation about the problems in karnaca and been the victim of slander by her political enemies. the game doesn't make this clear - it's easier to argue that the opposite is true given that her allies only have criticism.

worth a mention here that the heart quotes about armando - a fake ruler - interestingly mirror emily's character concerns. "see how he sighs? his life is a gilded cage." but this essay is already long.

while corvo & daud spend their games (and through the gameplay) 'earning' their redemption, emily is being led by the NPCs around her to a conclusion and a fix for the political mess in karnaca: meagan & sokolov guide emily to her missions, and there's no recurring quest for emily to investigate possible allies. she is able to gather the people she hasn't killed to herself by manner of... post-game narration. during the game, she's primarily concerned with getting her throne back.

an easy fix: if there had been less dialogue & narrative focus on emily's failings perhaps the ending would have felt more satisfying. it has the feel of cut content, but i don't know what was cut to be able to comment on it.

so what went wrong?

i can't help but wonder if arkane were worried they would lose a certain demographic if corvo wasn't playable (may have been deemed too much of a risk - 2013 was a different time), and so they had to take out story elements that were unique to emily's growth as a character/empress, because the usual storyline/gameplay integration had to work for both characters - in other words, gameplay that made sense for both corvo & emily was prioritised before emily's story & character development. which is a silly problem to have in a game that added character voices for the sake of improving characterisation - maybe emily's tale would have felt more akin to a parable if she had less lines that betrayed her ignorance (to the disdain of those around her).

i wish more care had been taken with emily's story. most players will never really notice the large variety of different endings - they're not particularly satisfying in and of themselves.

it's ironic that one of Emily's complaints is about her father/protector being overbearing, when his (parallel universe) presence in the gameplay may be one of the reasons her own narrative arc falls flat.

what are the upsides here

changing tune from what didn't work - don't you think the concept is fantastic? it's a great idea overall - can you imagine if the coming of age storyline was better integrated into the game?

it's valuable to talk about the integration of story and gameplay and characterisation from a craft perspective. dh2 genuinely is my favourite game - it's beautiful, the imm-sim design philosophy makes the world a delight to explore, the combat gives endless creative options for tackling any fight, there is a far greater diversity of cast in an in-text canonical way. there's loads to love!

i love emily as a dodgy leader, to me it adds interesting dimensionality to the outsider's narrations - of course in dunwall there's never a neat happily ever after! emily, like the outsider, both work well as characters who hold ultimate power but aren't necessarily worthy of it - and this makes perfect sense for the dishonored universe's morality & critiques of power. however, within this grey area there's still plenty of room for a satisfying ending, which isn't what we ended up with, whatever the true reason for that was. and also, damn, emily's a marked assassin empress, if she can't lead well then who can?

while dh1 was criticised for its narrative simplicity, dh2 in contrast and in hindsight shows us that simplicity isn't so bad - there's satisfaction in gameplay achieves a clear, simple narrative goal.

#are you a dh1 enjoyer but less so a dh2 enjoyer?#have you ever wondered why you don't love dh2 as much?#here's 1.8k words that might articulate some of that.#light reading.i guess #this essay wasn't meant to cover everything - just the core of the plot and why its important to integrate story & gameplay #and to compare dh1 & 2 #dishonored #dishonored 2 #dishonored 2 spoilers #emily kaldwin #daud #corvo attano #this week i'm cracking things out of my drafts!#<333 don't get me started on doto.#some of this might be contentious. idk i try to live in a bubble #the meme version was easier to read i know i know #this essay would have been a lot longer had i integrated more references from the game #i know a few others have said this but imagine if they went a different way with emily #like she realises shes not fit for the job and maybe no one is and says fuck the system cause shes got a rebellious streak #and does a kickflip on the monarchy and institutes something else. i dont even care what. make it funny #and then for the sake of continuing the trend we spend dishonored 3 undoing the horrible leadership emily instates <3 #i think they really loved emily as a character. i FEEL the love i believe its there.but didn't think enough bout how she would be perceived #there's a good couple comments from baldur's gate 3 devs about how much work goes into writing women to account for sexism #there's more that i could have added to this essay but for brevity's (ha.ha) sake i'll leave it there #other textposts about this game that i see around tend to romanticise dishonoreds story a little more

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lily-orchard · 5 months

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You mentioned how changing the tone of that one game would have made people more uncomfortable, but doesn't the game itself already depict their actions as bad?

If we're talking about making people uncomfortable, how does reinforcing everything they already know do that?

Part of being uncomfortable is second-guessing yourself, or putting your desire to see sympathetic characters succeed against your own ethics and making the reader just have to sit with that.

I read a book recently where the climax involved a mother (who had spent the entire story in the margins being a neglectful alcoholic who left the raising of her three youngest children to her two eldest) actually doing the responsible thing for once. And I caught myself going "What an absolute bitch!" because it had tragic consequences for characters I'd come to care about, even though those characters were making woefully terrible decisions that put everyone in danger.

And I actually had to put the book down and ask "What the fuck is wrong with me?!" because despite its flaws, it'd managed to make me sympathize with the main characters and the shitty situation they were in to the point I had to check myself in real time. And I'm almost positive that was the intended reaction.

Every character in this book is monumentally stupid, but the sincerity got to me. And that made me more uncomfortable than the Snarky Snark Goth Twins ever could.

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wenamedthedogkylo · 11 months

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Idk if I'm gonna be able to put this in a coherent way rn, but to me it is incredibly fun and interesting to see all the different takes from the fandom on the fictional theology of Exandria, because that seems to me to be much more in line with the point of this campaign. Like to me, whether or not the endgame is to have the party save the gods or help get rid of them is completely irrelevant. I get why people are hung up on that, but I think that focusing only on what the tangible outcome will be—focusing only on what the party will actually end up doing—is missing the point.

The way I see it, the discussion itself of whether the gods are worth saving or not is the point or the theme. We know that the cast all kind of agree upon themes they want to explore before starting a campaign, and this is a pretty hefty one to tackle, but it's a very important one because it's generating conversation where there might otherwise not be any.

There are some pro-gods takes that have me—as someone who personally has had almost exclusively terrible experiences with religious people and certain gods—instinctively recoiling and shaking my head. But there is also validity to the takes that a lot of the anti-gods rhetoric coming out of the NPCs especially is of a very particular brand that most of us dislike almost as much as we dislike proselytizers and zealots. All of those angles being discussed in tandem, that is the point more than anything else as far as I can tell.

In fact, if I were to guess at what theme or point is being presented here, it's that this is not a simple topic and allowing one person or even a single small group of people to decide something as monumental as this for the whole world is categorically insane and unjust. The point is to get people thinking critically about their relationship to faith and gods in conjunction with understanding the relationships others have as well, and to work together to find a solution that is more amicable for everyone involved rather than a solution that makes assumptions for others or only caters to one set of beliefs. It's to understand that one voice should not be heard louder than the others when the fate of millions is at stake. Whether that one voice is the zealotry of Vasselheim or the zealotry of Ludinus Da'leth, because zealotry in ALL its forms is toxic and destructive.

It's not about "are you pro-god or anti-god." It's about "one person should not get to decide the fate of everyone in the world, and one set of beliefs should not get to reign supreme and control everyone's futures." And while I personally lean more in the direction of being anti-god, ultimately I don't care whether they all get eaten or not, or which route the party goes down or even if they find a different route entirely. What matters is that they, the people of Exandria, and the people watching this show all need to grapple with this together and come to a better understanding of one another, so that they can then work to topple any factions which seek to impose a singular world order on everyone else.

Again idk if any of that makes sense, but that's my take on it at least. And that's not at all to discount anyone's personal feelings about the plot or how it's going either! Good fiction makes us wrestle with things in a space that's safe to do so, and we're all wrestling with this together. Just hopefully this will give a slightly different perspective that maybe some people haven't thought of yet.

#Critical Role #campaign 3 #cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #campaign 3 spoilers #critical role meta #critical role theory #c3 theory #c3 meta #Bree's stuff #about me #about Bree

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kickingitwithkirk · 10 months

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Greetings from Austin

Summary: Jensen and Jared are at odds over a monumental decision that changes their lives in a way they couldn’t have envisioned.

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Alpha!Jared Padalecki x Omega!OFC

Word Count: 1824

Warnings: a/b/o, J2 are married/mated, homophobia, bisexuality, biphobia, angst, cursing, jealousy, depression/anxiety, medical stuff, sexual dysfunction, infertility, IVF, surrogacy

*additional warnings to be added in future parts.

A/N: Here we go again with one my weird as hell dreams, series Inspired by this art.

A/N II: There is no intentional hate or malevolence intended towards any of the Ackles or Padalecki families. This is a purely fictional piece containing real and created persons/names/events set in the fictional A/B/O verse. Some dates/events altered to fit story.

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

*divider by @writeyourmindaway

*images found online

Part I

Jared was about to speak when a woman in scrubs called out, “Mr. Bonham and Mr. Page.” they got up and crossed over to her, “Hello, I’m Sissy, Dr. Rodgers nurse, please follow me.”

They pass through the doorway leading through a maze of halls like any other medical clinic, except this one specializes in a particular service.

The nurse opens a door near the back of the clinic, gesturing for them to enter the spacious office, “Please have a seat. The doctor will be with you shortly.” She closed the door, and they sat directly in the pair of chairs before the large, dark mahogany desk.

Jensen, scenting Jared’s nervousness, lifts his right hand, kissing his palm, making him chuckle at the tickle of Jen’s soft beard before twining their fingers together and setting them on his left thigh. He smiles as the door opens, and a silver-haired Beta enters.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Rodgers. How are we doing today?” He asks, moving to the chair behind the desk.

Jared gave him a tight smile, and Jensen remained placid.

The doctor raises an eyebrow, “Relax, Mr. Page. This visit is to review your paperwork before deciding how we proceed, not the Spanish Inquisition.” Jared released his held breath but couldn’t wholly calm himself.

“I know the process can be overwhelming, but I must ask, is there something we’ve done to make you uncomfortable?” Dr. Rodgers inquires.

“No, everyone’s been nice, very professional; we’ve had issues the first time attempting this.” Jared finished his sentence, but something terrible will happen in the recess of his mind, and it’ll be my fault. Jensen squeezes his hand tighter, instinctively sensing Jared’s mind is trying to spiral. “When we tried this before someone leaked our plans to the media, it wasn't conclusively proven the clinic wasn’t involved.”

We do everything possible to keep our client's anonymity protected here. All of the staff are vetted and sign an NDA. Your real identities will remain confidential, even if you choose not to proceed. It is why you chose this clinic, yes?”

“Yes, it is,” Jensen replied.

“How about we get this bit of paperwork out of the way? Then we can have a more relaxed visit,” he says, shuffling more papers.

“I’ve reviewed the applications you’ve submitted and noted a few discrepancies in the medical section that need clarification. Mr. Bonham, why did you omit Genu Varum from your medical record?”

Jensen kept his expression neutral and felt his stomach automatically clench. He remembered being mercilessly teased throughout childhood about his bowed legs by his older brother Josh and later his buddies when they’d come over to hang out.

By the time he was in high school Jensen’s striking looks and personality got people’s attention first, and nowadays, fantasies are composed in fanfic about his bowed legs.

“The questionnaire inquired about inherited genetic medical conditions; since mine isn’t, I didn’t think it was necessarily applicable.” Jared hears an edge creeping into Jensen’s voice and squeezes his fingers.

“Did you see an orthopedist, and could they determine what caused the condition?”

“I was born a preemie. The orthopedists my parents consulted decided my condition was attributable to that,” Jensen replies tersely, dropping his vocal range. Jared gripped his hand harder, telling him to cool his attitude.

“Did they suggest surgical procedures or therapies to straighten your legs?”

“No, the doctor didn’t recommend surgery but sent me to physical therapy, thinking it would help them straighten as I grew.”

“So, no others in your immediate family have this issue?”

“Everyone in my family has straight legs, including my three children.”

Jared piped in, “he hates it, but he does this exercise regimen; stretching, strength training. He also takes several vitamins, omega oils, turmeric, and extra vitamin D to support his joints.” They watched the doctor scribble a few more notes.

“Mr. Page,” Jared sat up straighter, “I appreciate that you detailed your mental health status. You’ve recently been hospitalized and have changed your routine to an alternative regimen, increasing your therapy sessions. Has this helped?”

The interview continued for another twenty minutes as Dr. Rodgers questioned him and Jensen in depth about his depression and anxiety; feeling it was ratcheting up, he focused on Jensen’s thumb rhythmically moving over his and used every ounce of his acting skills to appear confident and in control.

Dr. Rodgers closed the files, “I only have a few general questions left, then we can discuss how you wish to proceed.”

After a more relaxed, genial conversation with the doctor, Sissy took them to a couple of private rooms with paraphernalia to help stimulate them into producing a couple of semen samples.

Jensen was getting close to finishing with his favorite spank-bank fantasy when he felt Jared across their bond.

~~~

Jared couldn’t get aroused.

He felt as useless as his flaccid cock.

His doctor warned him that losing his sex drive could be a possible side effect of his new regimen until his body adjusted to it. He had struggled with temporary impotence a few times on his old meds; always fearful Jensen would finally see him as undesirable, no longer a satisfactory mate.

Rationally, he knew it was his illness causing these exceptionally hard-to-deal thoughts recently, and the nagging idea this wasn’t the right thing for them continually kept creeping in. Plus, Jensen’s reluctance about having more children at his age also weighed on his conscience, warring against his biological longings.

They had a humongous argument when he told his husband about the appointment.

Jensen said this was the wrong time to attempt it again, pointing out he was getting his equilibrium back set Jared off on a rant about how he no longer wanted him and would leave like Genevieve had because he was too broken to deal with anymore.

Unmitigated anguish crossed Jensen’s beautiful features. The notion that his mate could believe that he’d ever abandon him hurt so that no verbal language could ever express how that devastated him after everything they’d been through.

That bar fight to Jared’s first breakdown on set, the years of living as roommates while secretly a couple to finding wives who understood their unique relationship and still married them both in 2010.

Unfortunately, the joyous arrival of JJ three years later exacerbated Genevieve’s frustration of not being able to conceive, and it came out with a vengeance on Jared.

His unexpected breakdown in Switzerland was the final nail in their marriage. Gen was there for him, but it was all too much in the end, and she filed for divorce.

Shortly after, Jared’s iCloud account got hacked.

They believed but never conclusively proved Genevive was behind it since her lawyer was trying to break their prenuptial agreement; the videos documenting his intimate and explicit sexual relationship with Jensen were legally considered adulterous. In the end, the court upheld the legal document, but the ramifications that resulted after.

They were summoned to L.A. for the meeting from hell with WB executives, convinced it was the end of Supernatural and their careers. After the reaming out, they each received a week's pay suspension to cover some of what will cost PR time and money to deal with the inevitable repercussions and appease the show’s sponsors.

How would the show’s fans react? Would they still be able to accept them as brothers only on TV while in real life, they were involved in a highly stigmatized relationship? When they returned to work, there was an atmosphere of tension that hadn’t existed before.

It was an open secret that all shows had their share of bitchiness and backstabbing behind the scenes. Jensen may have thicker skin, keeping tighter control of his emotions, but Jared knew it hurt him just as deeply the loss of some of their friends because of society's prejudicial belief that two Alpha males shouldn’t be involved.

Alan and Donna showed up unexpectedly in Vancouver a few weeks later.

What started as a not-quite-comfortable visit quickly deteriorated thanks to his parents' religious conservatism. They had not raised him like this and blamed Jared, saying he had corrupted their son, leading him into a sinful lifestyle, and told Jensen he needed to repent and return to the wife he’d committed to before god.

Jensen blew up, replying it was none of their business, it was between them, and Danneel knew about them before marrying; he reiterated they better not say anything to her. Without another word, his parents left, and he later called them to make amends. His mother coolly stated that he was no longer part of their family and never to contact them again.

After the twins were born in 2016 came the finalization of Jensen’s divorce from Danneel, painful but congenial. They readily agreed on joint custody and still spent most holidays together. Jensen gave her financial security in their settlement, wanting to make sure she didn’t have to worry about working unless she wanted to.

They received support when publicly coming out as bisexual, then lost some of it when they married, and, to this day, get mocked for not coming out as gay, and Jared continually has nagging thoughts that they have let everybody down.

***

There was another knock at the door, and Jared ignored it, knowing it was that nurse checking on his lack of progress again turned into pounding, “Jared, open this door now, dammit!”

He flinched, realizing Jensen knew what was going on with him.

Releasing the privacy latch, opens the door a crack and saw concerned green eyes. “Sorry, I thought you were that nurse,” he stepped away and sat back down as Jensen came in, re-latching it behind him. “She came to get me when you stopped answering,” Jensen said, walking over and running his thick fingers through his husband’s long hair, “what’s going on, babe?”

He knows that Jensen already knew, “It’s okay, Jar, take as long as you need.” He paused at the unpleasant scent wafting around him. “If you’d be more comfortable, we could do this at home.”

Jared shakes his head, “There’s the risk of damage, contamination, and or unable to get it back in time that could make the semen unusable.” Jared quotes from a website.

Jensen softly chuckled, “Nerd,” and Jared noticed the bulge in his jeans, “You didn’t….”

“Drain the snake..choke the chicken..spank the monkey.”

“Fuck! Stop using old man slang.” He shook his head, smiling up at Jensen, intentionally goading him.

Jared reached up for the hand playing in his hair, grasping it to draw Jensen next to him.

“Jack, I don’t want to wait any longer on doing this. I love JJ and the twins, you know I do, but they’ll always be yours and Danneels. I know the timing could be better. I’m almost thirty-eight, and I want our pups running around the house, driving us crazy.”

“For the next eighteen years?”

“Minimum.”

tbc

Part II

SPN TAGS: @donnaintx @lyarr24 @flamencodiva @b3autyfuldisast3r @lassie-bird @nancymcl @spnbaby-67 @leigh70

Sam/Jared: @idreamofplaid Dean/Jensen: @thoughts-and-funnies @stoneyggirl2 @akshi8278 @beabutterfly987 @smoothdogsgirl @siospins2

GFA: @babypink224221 @waywardjoy @let-me-luve-you @all-4-wincest

#greetings from austin #jensen ackles #alpha!jensen #jared padalecki #alpha!jared #alpha!jensen x ofc x alpha!jared #non traditional a/b/o #j2 au #husbands #sam winchester #dean winchester #walker #soldier boy #a/b/o dynamics #slow burn #a/b/o #supernatural #spn #j2

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wild-at-mind · 6 months

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Saw a post yesterday that I got the meaning of but thought the execution was a little misguided. Basically it was saying that you shouldn't shame people for not proving with posts that they are doing all kinds of activism around the war in I/P. But it said you shouldn't do this because maybe they are doing super secret potentiall illegal activism and it's not safe to post about. When in fact I would argue much more generally- stop writing things that attempt to shame people for not 'doing enough' activism-wise AT ALL.

I really don't get this because I've been involved in environmental activism groups for the past 4 years and the most common thing people criticise environmental activist causes for is focusing too much on individual change. (Whether this if fair or not is debatable- sometimes yes, sometimes it's definitely in bad faith, sometimes people are projecting massively, and also often they are talking about some manner of corporate activism or token 'good faith' gesture from big companies that doesn't do much and that environmental activists are alsp criticising.) Therefore now there seems to be a big resurgence in trying to make individuals feel terrible until they put their nose to the grindstone enough to solve huge, monumentally vast conflicts, I am fucking confused. Ok I am being a little flippant here but I keep seeing people who are clearly feeling quilt tripped out of their minds about not doing enough. It is very concerning. What exactly do these ranty posters expect???

There was a period in 2016-2017 where I was really trying to be more involved in activism for a number of social justice issues, but I was also in a massive depressive episode and dealing with a lot of issues with black and white thinking. The way a lot of posts on tumblr were worded like 'hey you! Fuck you because everything you're doing or may even contemplate doing in future regarding activism is wrong somehow! Oh what you feel lonely and isolated? Well don't even think about mixing with anyone local to you who cares about similar issues because what if they disagree with you slightly??? That can't happen! Best not risk it.'

I don't know why people write stuff like this but I honestly find it basically locks up my brain until I can't do anything at all. And judging by some of the recent posting I've seen on here I'm not the only one. I'm not so affected now because I'm on better meds, and now I know a lot of activists IRL which has helped. Once I had recovered from the depressive episode I started getting involved in local environmental activism, as that is the main type of activism around here, and ignored the little voice in my head that I learned from tumblr saying I should get involved in more social justice oriented causes (which plain don't exist round here FYI). Turns out that people who care about one cause care broadly about most, even if they don't always get it right, and being in activist spaces in person helped me turn off the 'oh my god what if these people are...imperfect??!' inner monologue.

No one should have to justify their level of activism to you or anyone else. I'm not even going to give reasons why they may not be able to do more because everyone already knows and also because the whole line of thinking is flawed. Not posting about something does not make you complicit in it. Not exposing yourself constantly to the most disturbing and horrible news coming out of Gaza does not mean you are looking away from injustice. If your brain says that then flip the script on yourself- tell yourself that you personally looking at these things does not help anyone in Gaza. You feeling like shit helps no one.

I think people are much more able to stand up for causes they believe in when they are not being ground down by miserable guilt tripping. I think anyone who wants to avoid this needs to also avoid going along with the logic of these posts. Whether someone is doing a tonne of secret activism or no activism- it's not my business, and it's not for me to try and judge their heart and mind. Or for any of us.

#this unproofread post may not make much sense unless you have or are aware of a particular kind of OCD #just a warning- please take me in the same good faith you would want me to extend to you if you don't understand where i'm coming from #i am prepared to risk being misunderstood to write this anyway because i'm seeing a lot of warning signs in people #of the same mental state i was in in 2016-17 #all this and i didn't even have time to write my thoughts about secret vs non-secret actions in activism #but basically i find any idea that actions eg. marches that are well known enough to talk about publically #being useless and all secret actions to be more legit and effective to be damaging #especially because it's very hard for outsiders to become involved in secret actions for obvious reasons!!#but also because i think it's not true #and thinking that is likely to make people who are trying to get involved give up and just do nothing

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midorishinji · 6 months

Text

Disappearing act - chapter II

Geto observed her more carefully, trying to decide whether she was being serious or not. — Killing non-sorcerers? — It's an option, but I don't take it seriously. Do you? — Yuki pressed him with a loaded question. Suguru Geto thought of them all — Shoko, Nanami, Haibara, Riko, Kuroi, his parents, Satoru — and his chest filled with an unbearable pain, but also an incredibly monumental love, so much that it felt like it would stretch and burst at the seams of his heart that could not contain it. He thought of his father again, reading him "Night on the Galactic Railroad" when he was young, and he thought of Satoru reading his own copy now during his leisure nights. He thought of Giovanni and Campanella, and of the Scorpio of the night sky, and of the nobility of sacrifice, of setting yourself on fire to warm the world.

Satosugu ｜Finalized｜Long fic｜Also being published in Portuguese and on AO3

Chapters: I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII - IX - X - XI - XII - XIII - XIV - XV - XVI - XVII

Chapter II: remembering is only a new form of suffering

Another day passes. And another, and another, and another. Two weeks. September was approaching quickly, and it finally arrived, bringing the promise of a peaceful autumn. Satoru remained busy on consecutive missions, and days merged into each other, a blur of curses, screams and nightmares; everything merged into an indistinct watercolor of fright, in which day and night became one. It was difficult to distinguish being awake from being asleep if both were just a continuous nightmare.

At the same time, Geto was also involved in missions, trying to put everything out of his mind. Toji Fushiguro had pointed a gun at Riko's head, and he would have shot her, if not for Satoru's miraculous recovery putting him in the right place at the right time to stop him with a fatal blow. Everything could have taken an infinitely more sinister turn if it weren't for this small detail. Toji was willing to sacrifice the life of a child, and anyone else he met along the way, for money. Due to bizarre beliefs, that damned cult tried to take away a life to avoid Master Tengen's “impurity”. Riko Amanai and everyone around her were nothing more than game pieces in the hands of these figures.

Despite this, life went on. The missions piled up, and Suguru Geto became more and more tired. Exorcizing spirits. Consuming them — the terrible taste of each one, something no one would ever understand. Repeat. His body reached its physical and mental limits, one step away from succumbing.

What was the point of all this?

Someone sat next to him in the Jujutsu High garden. Satoru handed him a can of energy drink, while he opened another for himself. A bag with the name of a restaurant was among them. — I brought it from Okinawa. It’s close to where I went on a mission.

Geto's eyes lit up. — Okinawa?

— Yeah. They’re fine. We should go there this October, it's her birthday. She joined the new school's badminton team... — Satoru rambled, smiling. He looked proud.

— We should. Let's take some time off, have a little vacation there.

— I brought chirunko for us. — Gojo said, taking a package out of the bag. Two slices of cake were packed. They both ate in silence, contemplating the garden.

— I still think about everything before I sleep. When I close my eyes, it's like I'm there again. — Suguru confessed, taking a long sip from his can.

— I only see blood. Everywhere. — the other replied, remaining silent. Red everywhere: on his hands, his uniform, his body, on their bodies, on the floor… He changed the subject: — The Time Vessel Association is still going strong. I thought the damn council was going to dissolve it, but…

— But nothing will change.

Silence.

— They fell for the story that the cult took their bodies. In fact, the cult didn't deny it, which is pretty strange, come to think of it. — Satoru said, crushing his can.

— They sent me a letter a few days ago, thanking me for my collaboration. I set it on fire.

That information seemed to surprise Satoru Gojo. — Wait, they did what…?

— They think we did it to help them out. That we drank their Kool-aid, or whatever. — Geto confirmed.

— I should have killed them all.

Suguru sighed. — If you’d said that a month ago, I would have told you not to even think about it. A sorcerer's job is to protect others, not to kill them. There needs to be a reason to kill someone, we aren’t animals. But now, every time I close my eyes, I see the barrel of the gun pointed at Riko, and I'm not so sure anymore.

Gojo threw his crushed can, contorted into a metal ball, away. — I should kill all the elders, and those bastards from the Time Vessel Association, and Q… Rebuild jujutsu society from scratch. I should erase the miserable existence of these worms from the face of the Earth.

— Maybe one day, Satoru. Maybe one day you will make all these changes. — Suguru said, hugging him — But not today. Not like that. As long as I live, I won't let you get your hands dirty.

And for that moment, that promise was enough. In fifteen days, we will take some time off, and we will forget that all of this exists, Satoru thought. Despite this, he knew that the non-disbandment of that damned cult meant that some powerful figure was calling the shots from behind the scenes, someone whose interests went beyond Riko, evidently.

Footsteps in the garden, approaching. Satoru let go of the hug, forcing a smile and his typical carefree ways as he waved in the distance: — Nanamin! Haibara!

Kento Nanami detested the infamous nickname, and could frankly strangle Satoru Gojo in his sleep without much regret. Despite this, they were still friends, even though the clash of personalities couldn't be clearer. Yu Haibara, who had great admiration for the heir of the Gojo clan, did not understand the tension that existed between both.

— You know I hate it when you call me that. — Nanami grumbled, impatiently.

—Nanamin, I brought you a gift, and this is how you treat me? — Gojo replied, pretending to be hurt, as he took two packages of chirunko out of the bag — One for you, and one for Haibara.

Accepting the gift willingly, Yu smiled excitedly. — Wow, thanks! I didn't even expect to get anything!

Nanami still didn’t give in. — …Thanks.

Getting up from the grass, Geto picked up his empty energy drink can. — Hey, Satoru... You haven't seen Shoko since she came back, have you? I'll go after her, she’s probably studying.

It was a good excuse to get out of there. Suguru said his goodbyes to everyone with a friendly smile and his usual calm manner, going away with light steps. Gojo didn't seem to mind, as if he even expected it. Despite this, Nanami couldn't shake the impression that they had interrupted something.

Suddenly, it was Haibara's turn to want to leave the scene, as if he noticed something in the air. — I'm going to buy myself some tea, does anyone want it?

— I'll have one, please. — Kento replied.

— Don’t worry about me. — Gojo said, seeing him walk away. The two remained silent for some time, before he said something — I like Haibara. He is a good person.

— He is. — the other agreed — He always sees the best in people. The world would be a darker place if someone wasn't able to see that good still exists. Sometimes I forget that, but he reminds me.

— Hmm.

An unsatisfactory response from someone who was thinking of other meanings for that phrase.

— What did you and Geto do with the girl? — Nanami asked suddenly.

As much as he tried to divert the subject with charm and persuasion, the acting didn't convince him this time. — Me, Nanamin? We didn’t do anything, the Association…

Kento interrupted him. — That’s bullshit. They just wanted to stop the merge, they didn't want anything to do with her body, there’s no reason why they couldn't have returned it, why we had to bury two empty coffins.

The words were like knife blows, making the lie crumble. For the first time, Nanami saw Satoru Gojo become serious: — There’s no body.

That, however, did not answer his doubts, as expected. — What do you mean? Did they destroy the body, or…?

— Nanamin… There is only a body if there is death.

A few seconds of uncomfortable silence passed, but Kento didn't show anything. — So you and Geto…?

— They are fine, in a safe place. It no longer matters to the Association, nor to the sorcerers, the time window is over. — Satoru replied.

— Then why did they lie that they had their bodies?

Gojo sighed deeply. — That's the same question Suguru and I are asking ourselves.

The answer left him thoughtful. — Hmm…

— Don't you want to know why we did it? — Gojo considered the silence and the slight nod as a “yes” — Because Riko said she wanted to live. The last days we spent together, she... She never had the right to that. Having fun, just being a normal teenager. She had never lived until that moment. And I don't know what we were thinking, but Suguru and I decided that she didn't deserve to be forced into this. And if this bomb ever goes off, I will take full responsibility.

Nanami closed his eyes, looking worried. — You know, everyone always thinks that you’re just a selfish, spoiled asshole, and I always knew that behind that attitude, there was something more than that. I'm glad that I’m right. You're a decent person, Satoru.

He accepted the compliment in modest quietness. Geto had always been his moral compass, he owed that thought to him, just as he owed it to him not to have murdered anyone from that damned cult. He owed him everything, and those were difficult words to say out loud.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #geto suguru #satosugu #nanami kento #haibara yu #shoko ieiri #toji fushiguro #megumi fushiguro #kenjaku #writing #fanfiction #jjk fanfic

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sassypantsjaxon · 2 years

Text

Cast afterparty

entry for day 2 of @hetalia-polyship-week (it’s like clockwork) with the continuation of the theater au!

This was the third time they had gone out for drinks already. The first being the night Ludwig had almost pushed Kiku off the stage, the second as a way to unwind after a stressful opening night, and now to celebrate the end of the show. Despite the fact that most of the cast had gone out together, somehow the three of them had found themselves gravitating towards each other again.

“So,” Feliciano said inbetween bites of the fries he had ordered to go with his drink, “You haven’t told us yet what made you get involved with our silly little theater? We’ve never seen you before.”

“Oh, Arthur’s a friend of mine,” Kiku nodded towards where the director was half-drunkenly arguing with the costumer and the cast liaison. “He told begged me to help since he didn’t have enough stage hand, I suppose.”

“We didn’t.” Ludwig confirmed, “And we appreciate you coming in to help.”

“Think you’ll come back next year?” Feliciano asked with a teasing smile.

“I’m...not sure. I won’t say no yet, but I’m not sure.” He took a sip of his own drink, still watching Arthur’s fight, wondering how long it would be before he and the costumer drunkenly started kissing in front of everyone. “Have you two been involved with the theater for a long time?”

Ludwig nodded as Feliciano spoke over him, “Years. Since I was a teenager. My Grandfather’s a patron because I loved it so much.”

“So then you two must have known eachother for a while, then?”

Ludwig frowned as he and Feliciano looked at each other. “Not really. He’s always been doing his cast thing, and I’ve been doing my crew thing. We never really had much reason to interact before.”

Feliciano nudged Ludwig with his elbow, “Guess it’s okay that you tried to kill Kiku. Got to meet us out of it.”

“Please stop saying I was trying to kill him. Somebody’s going to believe you someday.”

Feliciano finished his drink and shrugged, “Guess you shouldn’t have tried to kill him then.”

“It really wasn’t that drastic,” Kiku insisted, “Everything turned out fine in the end-”

“Excuse me!” Arthur clapped his hands as he climbed up on one of the chairs, almost immediately losing his balance and grabbing the costumer’s shoulder for support. “If I could have everyone’s attention? I’d like to say a few words,”

“He’s not going to make a speech, is he?” Kiku asked in a horrified whisper.

Feliciano nodded.

“You’ve seen his drunken speeches before?” Ludwig asked.

“I’ve seen him drunk before. I can’t imagine this will go well.”

“It won’t,” Ludwig shook his head, “He gets drunk, makes a terrible speech, and ends up kissing Francis after every show. Every year.”

“Like clockwork,” Feliciano confirmed.

“My eternal thanks to everyone who keeps me from crashing and burning,” Arthur was saying, “Roderich, Katya,” he indicated the music and vocal directors, “Thank you for keeping everyone from sounding like a bunch of dying cats,” There’s a bit of nervous laughter at that, “Elizaveta, thank you for handling everybody’s problems so I don’t have to.” The liaison nodded as she took a shot. “Francis,” Arthur squeezed the other man’s shoulder, “As much as it pains me to admit it, you keep everyone from going on stage naked.”

Francis looked up at him, “We could do a show where they don’t need to wear clothes, if you’d like?” he offered innocently.

Arthur snapped his fingers and pointed at Francis like he had just had a monumental idea, “I do not. Ludwig! Where’s Ludwig?” He turned himself in a circle, almost falling over again. Ludwig ducked his head, burying his face in his hands. “Ludwig! As always, my eternal gratitude to you for not ruining all my hard work.” Ludwig nodded, still trying to avoid eye contact. “Feliciano, Emma, lovely as always. And the rest of you...I don’t even remember who you all are-”

“Okay, you’re done now,” Francis coaxed him down from his chair, “As he was saying, thank you all, and he’s sorry for this display.”

Kiku looked away from the two who were starting to argue again and back to his own companions. “That went...no better than I expected.”

“Like clockwork.” Ludwig repeated Feliciano’s statement from earlier.

“Think they’ll make it back to their apartment before they start getting naked this time?” Feliciano asked, still watching the couple, who had started making out in the middle of the bar.

“God, I hope so.” Ludwig said.

“See?” Feliciano chirped to Kiku, “You have to come back next year, or you’ll miss the real show.” He nodded towards the director. “Besides, how else are you supposed to see us again?”

“You do both have my number,” Kiku reminded them, “I don’t see any reason why we should have to wait another year before we meet again.”

#hetalia polyship week 2022 #geritapan #aph germany #aph italy #aph japan #'all the world's a stage' au

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limetameta · 2 years

Text

more on the kimblee family

Kimblee's dad, absolutely well-put together, handsome man, wearing suits, always ironed to perfection. You expect him to be so, so cultured. So, so amazing and well-versed in all things artistic and cultural. He opens his mouth, you're at the edge of your seat, and then the most petty-bourgeois, fake-cultured shit comes out of his mouth that you're absolutely horrified someone is like that while looking like that.

Kimblee's mom is the cultured one. She goes to art galleries and music hall concerts and operas and theatre plays and reads all of these classical novels, follows politics, is incredibly knowledgeable.

Meanwhile Kimblee's dad plays the accordion and goes trumpeteering on weddings with his travelling band for tips. He's maybe read 5 books in his lifetime. Loves to fish, though, and hunt. Not an academic, certainly, but he's involved in the community, though. Everyone loves him. Real social butterfly of a man. Always knows a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy. Can recite his family tree since its beginning. Family is a big thing for him.

Someone asks him how he even met Kimblee's mom, like why did he go to the concert hall that day when normally he never goes to such places - and he just replies with: they closed down the bar of choice on the account of one of my friends breaking the bar owner's head with a rakija bottle so I just decided to see what the hubub was about. :D She takes me sometimes with the children, but I'm not interested in all this high society stuff, really. The children like it, though.

Solf asks her: How did you ever fall for him? :/ You're so different.

Kimblee's mom just sighs, as if it's painful: He's the most reliable man I've ever met in my life. :// And he loves me. And I love him. I don't know why, Solf.

Solf: D: That sounds terrible.

Kimblee's mom, laughing at him: Be happy if you find a woman at least a fifth like your father. He's never let me down in my life. No other man would tolerate half the things I put him through. Besides, he writes songs for me. And provides for me. It's kind of sexy, honestly.

Solf: :/

Kimblee's mom: *trying to comb his hairs back in his ponytail* *they keep sticking out* *growling, frustrated* I'm going to cut your hair while you're asleep so I don't need to look at these hairs sticking out.

Solf: D: NO YOU WON'T! *covering his head and glaring at his mother* I'LL SLEEP WITH ONE EYE OPEN!

*door opens*

Kimblee's dad, stinking of fish: LOOK WHAT I CAUGHT! :D *shows them a giant ass fish*

Sibling: *shows smaller fish* :D I caught this one so Solf's cats can eat.

Kimblee's mom and Solf, dressed fancy, ready to go to the concert hall: *thumbs up* *five metres away so the stench of the fish doesn't attack them* Good job!

Also additional headcanon: Solf's cats love his dad because he feeds them fresh fish he catches. Solf, too, like a big cat he is, loves his dad because the man feeds him fish. Solf Fish Lover Kimblee rights.

Kimblee's dad is actually really, really knowledgeable of tales and stories passed down from father to son from father to son so even though he doesn't really read books that often he has such a wealth of stories in his head that he shares by singing in the very particular way of orating that's specific for their part of Amestris.

Solf: *side-eyeing his dad* How does all of that fit inside your head?

Kimblee's dad: :D Well, I don't listen to your complaints from school so I've got plenty of room. If anything, whatever you told me just now I've forgotten.

Solf: -_- I don't think you and I have spoken about school since I enrolled in it, years ago.

Kimblee's dad: Oh, that's the other one, then.

Solf: Do you even know how old I am?

Kimblee's dad: Not sure, honestly. I don't even know if you have friends. I know all your cats names, though, and I call that a monumental success!

Solf: You don't know their names! You just call them based on their fur colours!!! And you call the black cat Orange for some reason, just to piss me off!

Kimblee's dad: That cat has the head the size of a perfect orange. Calling it stupid shit like Midnight isn't cutting it for me.

Solf: I don't call the cat Midnight. I call it Fang, because it hunts really well. :)

Kimblee's dad: That cat's my son. It's brought more prey it's hunted than you ever will and I've been going hunting with you for years now. *taking out a cigarette and lighting it*

Solf: :/ I'm telling mom you still haven't quit smoking.

Kimblee's dad: Go, pull at your mom's skirts like a little boy all your life! One day we'll be dead and you'll just have your cats!

Solf: :///////////// Better company than you in any case.

Kimblee's dad: I'm telling your mom you're being mean to me again.

Solf: D: Don't you dare. She actually sat me down one time and told me, explicitly, that she was going to confiscate my alchemy books if I don't have one meaningful conversation with you per week.

Kimblee's dad: I'm going to die one day and you'll be sad you were mean to me, you know.

Solf: Your gas-lighting games won't win, old man. I'm onto you.

Kimblee's dad, miffed: I'm not old... I made you when I was really young.

#kimblee's dad is such a balkan dad #loves his son has zero clue how to communicate with him #metallic crimson

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jhavelikes · 5 months

Quote

The film’s power, though, derives from its balanced criticality of everyone involved. The narrative does not shy away from showing the shaman interrupting a public workshop to book another event on his cell phone, for instance. Too, such surprising actions create an evocative platform for the Orthodox priest’s contention that “shaman [is] showman.” Viewers of the film will, in fact, wonder why the tourists wouldn’t want to see something quite spectacular and might wonder if, like the 1928 Soviet film contended, traditional, “real” shamanism is in fact totally decayed. Alternately, viewers might be made to confront their own beliefs on shamanism, especially as it is presented in our New Age oriented culture. Notably, the lack of anything at all terribly “spectacular” might turn off some viewers expecting shamanic rituals that we might be conditioned to expect. Also, the many scenes of Khagdaev walking and blessing objects and monuments – especially in the film’s middle sections – causes the film to drag somewhat. Well-crafted and beautifully shot, even apparently incidental scenes in the film will provide audiences with a wealth of questions: The shaman’s remark to German tourists that he is all too familiar with the philosophy of Karl Marx serves as a platform for other notices regarding the suppression of native religions during Communism; students’ overt questioning of the Buryat cosmology implies division between dominant and suppressed cultures, but also between the younger generation and the older, the “educated” versus the “pastoral”…. Indeed, by taking no sides, as it were, and presenting events as they naturally unfold, the film presents a myriad of anthropological questions to the audience and always provides at least enough background that attentive viewers will be able to learn quite a bit not only of contemporary shamanism itself, but also about the balance between cultures and cultural expectations.

In Pursuit of the Siberian Shaman - Educational Media Reviews Online (EMRO)

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sometipsygnostalgic · 2 years

Text

Launch/Corridors revisit

We rewatched the first 3 eps of she ra s5 on stream!

I cannot stress how important the sound design of this show is. It is some top tier stuff, at least for cartoons - Season 5′s sound reminds me of Mass Effect. which I actually went back and played after finishing She-Ra because of how nostalgic the show made me feel for it. (Still havent done the ending, maybe this weekend, I wanted my friends to watch.)

I missed the first ep, but I was there for “Launch” and “Corridors”.

I feel kinda bad for Perfuma in “Launch”. Like, she’s trying. I mean, fuck the rope gag anyway, but Perfuma is a great ball of Stress. She was trying to be polite to Entrapta and eventualy snapped alongside the rest of the group.

I’m also VERY interested in Scorpia’s feelings because she spent the entire ep looking like she wanted to say something but was too worried about getting involved in conflict. That’s a Bow moment for her. The lack of statement from Scorpia perhaps made the fight at the end inevitable. .

Of course, Entrapta’s side of things is very.... yeah, it brought someone working on the show to tears and I can understand why. The way she isnt responding to things like they do, doesnt show the same doubt or remorse, so they get angrier and angrier and treat her like she has no feelings and she feels so terrible because she didn’t notice until it was too late as she’s so bad at reading people, and this keeps on happening and she feels it always will because of who she is, that is an autistic story. The fact Entrapta has to go through the monumentally difficult task of explaining how she feels, and everyone realises they fucked up. And Mermista running after her, it has always invoked some distant memory for me. More than anything else in the show could hope to do, besides maybe those early Adora episodes - it reminds me of when I was struggling to make friends with the cadets that I respected, and used to break down and run off, and the other kids would try to help even though they didn’t get it. They were good kids, but I was kinda not good at working with them.

(Young Catradora also have vibes of that but I get so unreasonably angry every time I see/hear 8 year old Adora. I’m not sure if it’s the really bad child acting, or if it’s because Adora’s COMPLETE LACK OF UNDERSTANDING for how Catra feels reminds me way too much of my younger self.)

I do feel like this scene could’ve done with more reinforcement later on - have a small scene where she genuinely bonds with one of the good guys, other than Wrong Hordak. Also maybe less wacky hijinks and ropes in this ep. But alas. I’m really glad, regardless of everything else, they got Entrapta’s POV across.

(lol @ Bow seeing someone tear up and immediately starting to BAWL. he is so soft)

The scenes with Adora in this ep, the silent She-Ra form she just spoke to about her feelings on destiny, they were also great to watch and listen to again. I love that it was complete silence when she woke up, until Bow walked in, then Chaos started happening again, with Mermista SHRIEKING on the voice call for them to deck it to Darla, while Entrapta geeks out about finding glimmer and Bow is Stressed. I love it.

Catra and Glimmer, for the first 3 eps (the scenes blur together in my head), ugh. These are the BEST INTERACTIONS IN THE SHOW, hands down. I don’t know. There is something so nuanced about how when they’re all stuck on the space ship together, they thirst so hard for a bit of familiarity that they are willing to turn to their gratest enemy for companionship.

Catra and Glimmer have so much in common. They have both nearly destroyed the world at this stage, they are both responsible for Prime being here today. And you can really tell that the isolation is getting to them both, because they start bonding over Adora..

I love the interactions between Catra and Hordak in this ep too. It’s... the last time they ever speak in the show. But the way Hordak is still so angry at Catra for what happened, he presumably thinks Entrapta’s dead or something, and he is more than willing to erase his memories, but is still... terrified. Like, Hordak has so many feelings about Catra, because of her betrayal and how they had been working together and he thought for a moment they could relate with each other but it turned out to be built on a lie, and if only he had figured it out sooner, figured out Catra’s deception rather than sulk about it like a teenage boy, he’d still have his friend.

Catra feels... terrible about this. She has every right to hate Hordak, and yet still feels awful about what shes done to him and what Prime’s doing to him, and still nearly found comfort in him being present, until he hard rejected her and got traumatically mindwiped.

The music that plays during these scenes, when Prime is onscreen, it is so terrifying. This continues to be the case through to the finale, but it’s especially effective here, before he has shown any vulnerabilities.

And... Catra deciding to do her villain u-turn to rescue Glimmer, after bonding with her, feels really significant to me. I know she did it “for Adora”, but I find more meaning, personally, in recognising her ability to connect with someone other than Adora, even if she refuses to admit it.

(The space ship scenes in this ep are SO FUNNY. I often cite the SPACE moment as the funniest scene in the show, and it’s largely because the surrounding scenes are so... tense that having Entrapta’s space fever finally get payoff after 4 seasons, with her having the happiest reaction ever, was so fucking funny. Bow losing it, and Adora being a total himbo, also have series-wide buildup for added comic relief. All we’re missing is Glimmer stabbing things... which we do get in this ep, so it’s fine.)

#she ra #spop #launch #corridors #catra #glimmer #adora #entrapta #hordak

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jessepinwheel · 2 years

Note

Hey so if you’re still taking prompts for sequential logic how about some Jedi/clone interactions (not involving anakin bc while I love seeing him actually experience consequences I despise the dude) something like plo and the Wolfpack or luminara and her clones maybe?

okay I fixed it now

Sometimes, Mace wonders what he ever did to deserve being the Head of the Order during a war. He looks over his stacks upon stacks of datapads that seem to be reproducing now that Dooku has signed the ceasefire agreement, then sighs deeply. He's not getting anywhere with these tonight, and besides, there are more pressing matters at hand.

He finds Ponds in the cockpit, looking over the navigation console and looking uncharacteristically restless.

"Is everything okay, Commander?" Mace asks.

Ponds doesn't respond immediately. He flips through another couple screens as he gathers his words, then says, "Yes, sir. Just nerves, that's all."

Mace pulls up a seat. "Is Kamino so frightening?" he asks.

Ponds grimaces. "It's not that. It's just...so many terrible things happened to us there. To me. The kind of terrible things I didn't even know were terrible until I was deployed into the real world and met you, sir--I wouldn't wish Kamino's training on anyone, not even my worst enemies," Ponds says. "But at the same time, Kamino is my home, and in all honesty, I miss it sometimes. Things were simpler then. At least I knew what to expect, and at least my brothers were always there by my side."

"Your brothers will still be with you now that the war is over," Mace says. "You're safe, now."

Ponds is quiet for a few moments longer, then says, "None of us expected to survive beyond the end of the war, sir. For a lot of us, the war ending is a lot scarier than the war itself--the prospect of dying without fulfilling the purpose we were made for."

"There's no shame in living a life without war," Mace replies.

"I...I think you misunderstand me, sir," Ponds says. "I don't mean we're scared to live without fighting. I mean the understanding for many of us growing up was that, once the war was over, we would no longer be necessary, and would be disposed of accordingly."

Mace goes cold all at once. He had known on some level that the clones feared obsolescence--it was obvious in the way they operated, the way they felt it was necessary to be useful at all times, but he had hoped, perhaps naively, that those fears would be resolved with the end of the war.

"We would never do that to you," Mace says. "You know that, Ponds, right? No matter what, we wouldn't...execute all of your brothers."

"I know that. Everyone who's met you knows that," Ponds says. "But all those millions of clones who were never deployed? Kamino is all they've ever known. After doesn't exist for them, and that's...it's terrifying, sir."

Mace feels heavy, like the very air is dragging him down. The hum of the hyperdrive, taking them to Kamino, feels more foreboding than ever. The task that looms ahead will be more complicated than Mace ever anticipated.

Ponds clears his throat. "I just wanted you to know what to expect, sir."

---

It is not raining when they land--it's such a drastic change from when Mace had first discovered the clones six months ago that it makes Kamino seem like a different planet entirely.

"No rain is a good omen," Ponds says.

"Let's hope so," Mace replies.

The two of them go in. Today, they have one simple objective--to officially announce the ceasefire to the clones and begin the process of moving them properly from Kamino into Jedi custody so they can begin new lives as civilians out in the galaxy. A monumental undertaking, considering clones are not yet considered citizens of the Republic, and, as Mace is becoming increasingly aware, their background has in no way prepared them for civilian life.

"How do you want to approach this, sir?" Ponds asks, settling in parade rest. "If you like, we can speak to the Kaminoans first to negotiate the logistics of transporting brothers and transferring the relevant personnel data. Alternately, I can give you a tour of the facilities--I know you've visited once before, but I understand you had been a bit short on time then."

"That's one way to say it."

"Or, if you prefer, I can message the battalions to assemble so you can speak to them," Ponds says. "Any of these will be appropriate actions, sir."

Mace considers the choice before him. It doesn't make that much difference in the end, because they are all things he needs to get done, but still. He's the Head of the Order. The first impressions he makes now will reflect on all the Jedi.

"Would it be possible for me to speak to some of your brothers without the assembly?" Mace asks. "There will be time for formal arrangements later, but I want to meet the men on level ground, first. I'll get a better idea of who we're working with, that way."

"Yes, sir," Ponds says. "I can message them ahead so nobody's caught unawares. Surprises make the shinies nervous."

So the two of them begin visiting the undeployed troops. Ponds leads the way because he knows his brothers more than Mace does. It's...enlightening. There's over two million clones in Kamino, an incomprehensibly large number of people to begin with, but they're not just the older clones Mace has become accustomed to--they're a wide range of ages, down to the youngest batches who are about six years old and look...well, like younglings. It's impossible to think of them as anything else, when they're so small with wide eyes and baby fat on their cheeks, looking barely as old as the youngest Padawans.

"The Kaminoans anticipated the war would last three to five years," Ponds says. "So they generated batches accordingly, so that the last batches would reach fighting maturity by the third year of the war to replete our numbers."

"This is horrifying," Mace says, looking out over a live fire training exercise being run by younglings. Shaak would have assuredly stopped this if she’d known they were still running these exercises after the ceasefire, but two million men is simply too many for one Jedi to manage. "They're too young for this."

Ponds is silent for a moment, then says, "We all went through this, sir. We begin with live weapons when we're three."

Mace's stomach sinks. He'd known things were bad--it was impossible not to, after everything he’s heard and seen from his troops--but this is even worse than he could have imagined. "You shouldn't have. They--that never should have happened to you."

Ponds doesn't seem to know how to respond to that. He looks out over the cadets for a few seconds longer, then says, "Perhaps we should move on."

Ponds continues the tour in this way, showing Mace the facilities and letting him speak to some of the clones. A lot of them are nervous to see him, a nervousness that Mace can't entirely dispel.

"Please don't hold it against them. A lot of brothers find the Jedi frightening," Ponds says. "The cadets hear stories about all the things the Jedi can do. You can't really sort out the lies from the truth when the truth is already so strange."

It's not hard to imagine how that could come to pass. For these young clones, the world beyond the walls of Kamino may as well not exist. Something like the Jedi and their powers in the Force could easily seem monstrous.

"Do I frighten you?" Mace asks. "Or the men?"

"No, sir," Ponds says. "You've proven yourself nothing to be afraid of. I would trust you with my life, and the lives of my men without hesitation."

That was true enough--Ponds had already shown so much trust and loyalty that Mace would never doubt it. But... "There's something else, isn't there? That's not all."

Ponds pauses. "Well...sometimes the things you do are terrifying, sir. Sometimes when you use the Force, we can feel it like a wave across the battlefield. And then you lift up tanks and break droids apart with your bare hands and it feels...it's like there's some kind of invisible monster on the field." He looks aside. "I trust you without question, sir. But sometimes it's hard to trust your Force the same way.

"It's not the same for everyone," Ponds continues. "Some brothers think it's really cool, and for the record I'm glad that if there's a force like that on the battlefield, it's you using it to protect us. I'm just too much of a pessimist to not think about if it were the other way around. Even if I know you'd never use it...it doesn't change the fact that you could kill any one of us with your mind, sir."

It's not the answer Mace had wanted to hear, but it's the truth. Mace can't change the abilities that he has, nor can he control how his men feel or really have them experience for themselves the Force the way he and the rest of the Jedi understand it. The clones will learn to not fear the Force over time, or they won't. That will be another struggle to deal with down the line. "Thank you for telling me, Ponds."

"Anytime, sir," Ponds replies.

Ponds' tour lasts until late afternoon, and Mace feels exhausted just from everything he's seen. The clones are good people in such deplorable circumstances that it makes his heart hurt to think of how much they'd suffered to come to this point. He wonders if he'll really be able to give these people the fulfilling lives they deserve, but at this point...anything would be better than this.

"I think that's everything, sir," Ponds says. Mace can feel his exhaustion in waves, though he's hiding it admirably. It must be an ordeal of an entirely different nature for Ponds, to see his home and the things he had experienced with fresh eyes.

"We haven't visited the medical wing yet," Mace says. "Shouldn't I talk to them, too?"

Ponds doesn't respond right away. "I don't know if that's the best idea, General."

Mace's brow furrows. "Why not?"

Ponds grimaces. "Medical is...they're different from the rest of us. They keep to themselves, and what happens back here isn't really..." he trails off. "They're pulled out of most combat modules and get trained directly by the Kaminoans. They don't talk about what goes on there with outsiders."

Mace isn't sure he likes that. He doesn't think the medical clones would do anything to harm their brothers, but the secrecy and the disconnect between medical and the rest of the clones makes him uneasy. "I'd like to try all the same, Commander."

Ponds nods. "If you say so, sir. I'll show you to the central medbay."

With that, he takes Mace down the corridors in grim silence. It seems that not only do the medical track clones not interact much with other clones, the central medbay is completely separate from the rest of the training areas.

"This is the Kaminoans' part of the facility. They grow the tubies here and do whatever research it is they do when they aren't breathing down our necks," Ponds explains. "Most clones aren't authorized to be here outside of medics and brothers needing urgent medical attention. If I weren't escorting you, I wouldn't be allowed to be here."

Mace finds there's a haunting feeling about walking through Kamino--not just the impersonal white walls but the feeling of nothingness wherever they go. In the Temple, there were always people no matter where you went, though less since the beginning of the war. There were marks of life, of art adorning the walls and an impression of comfort and safety sunk into the very stones like the Temple was a living creature protecting its wards. For all the people living in Kamino, it feels cold and empty, and Mace tries not to shiver from it.

The central medbay looks familiar the way all medbays look vaguely familiar. It's set up similar to the medbays on the flagships, though with much more space and equipment for complex medical operations like intensive care and surgery. It's busier than Mace thought it would be, with clones in medical uniforms moving between rooms and checking monitors and speaking with patients. Many--Mace might even venture to say most--of these clones, too, are alarmingly young.

"Why is there so much activity? The ceasefire was a week ago. People shouldn't be getting injured now," Mace says.

"Training hasn't stopped," Ponds says, as if training injuries bad enough to warrant this kind of care is commonplace and perfectly reasonable. "And they're probably handling long-term cases, too. Physical therapy and rehab for brothers who can get back to fighting condition. I don't really know all the specifics of what goes on in Medical--you would have to ask someone in medical track."

"Can we talk to anyone here?" Mace asks.

Ponds shakes his head. "They're pretty busy, so we won't bother them. Come this way--there's a workroom around the corner. There might be some people in there."

Mace follows Ponds out of the main medbay atrium into what looks like a small office. There's a number of holoscreens with patient monitoring information, as well as a few data terminals. Sure enough, there's two clones working on some kind of reports--not the youngest clones Mace has seen today, but unquestionably prepubescent.

"Medics," Ponds says. "Do you have a moment?"

The two medics startle, looking up at Ponds, then over at Mace. Immediately, the both of them scramble to their feet and salute. "Sir!" says one of them, with curly shoulder-length hair that's pinned back and a yellow tattoo of some kind of molecule under his eye. "We didn't know you were coming, Commander. General."

"At ease," Mace says. The two medics physically relax but Mace can still feel their anxiety clear through the Force. He thinks he understands more what Ponds means when he said surprises made the younger clones nervous.

"What do you--How can we help? Sirs?" asks the other medic, whose appearance is almost painfully regulation except that his uniform looks like it’s been slept in once or twice.

"General Windu wanted to see the medical wing and talk to some of the troopers," Ponds says.

"Is it--was there an issue? With the medbay operations? Sir?" the medic replies.

Mace shakes his head. "I'm not here to discipline anyone. I wanted to learn more about you and your brothers, that's all," he says. "What are your names?"

The medic with the tattoo speaks up first. "I'm Freeze, sir. My designation is CT-7721. My specialization is anesthesiology and pain management."

The medic without the tattoo says, much quieter, "CT-3122, sir. Advanced surgical operations and informatics. Sir."

"CT-3122 is your preferred form of address?" Mace asks.

CT-3122 nods. "Yes, sir."

This, too, makes Mace uncomfortable, but he makes no further comment. The clones are intelligent--CT-3122 is undoubtedly aware that many of his brothers have chosen names and that it is acceptable to do so, and has, for whatever reason, not picked a new name. That is itself a valid choice and it's not Mace's place to tell a clone how to express themself when they already have so little personal autonomy.

"Very well," Mace says. "Can you tell me about your work as a medic?"

Freeze nods and begins to explain the role of medical units.

"There is a finite number of combat units," Freeze says, posture stiff and formal. "A large number, but a limited supply nonetheless. Clones are expensive to manufacture and train, and the time from decantation to being ready for deployment is prohibitively long. Medical staff is necessary to reduce personnel waste and preserve unit function for as long as possible, both through medical care and analytics to determine efficient resource management." He glances at CT-3122. "'22 compiles a lot of the casualty reports that come back through Kamino. Sir."

CT-3122 nods.

The explanation continues in this way, deeply entrenched in the terms of manufacture and design and function--some of it sounds like it's recited, but not all of it. Mace has heard clones speak of themselves as units and expendable before, but never so frankly and matter-of-fact like this--it's not so hard to see where the disconnect between medical and the other clones comes from. Ponds looks mildly ill just listening to it.

"When do you start training as medics?" Mace asks.

"We get--um. We're assigned to different tracks at the same time as all other units. Sir," CT-3122 says.

"It's usually between the ages of three and four," Ponds supplies. "Clones are evaluated after exposure to live fire exercises and sorted to specializations that best suit their aptitudes and temperament."

"I see," Mace says. Even if going by physical age, six years old is much, much too early to make that kind of judgement. "So you two were selected for medical track because you had an aptitude for healing and helping your brothers?"

CT-3122 glances nervously at Freeze, then back at Mace. "I, um. I was selected for medical track because--um. I was insensitive to the sight of violent injury, and because I am--I don't get upset when I see my brothers die. Sir."

An awkward silence falls between the four of them. Ponds is very resolutely not looking anyone in the face, and CT-3122 has his fists clenched in the hem of his uniform. His posture stays steady, but his presence is curled into itself, like he expects to be struck and is bracing himself for the blow.

Somehow, Mace had thought things would be kinder in the medical wing, away from the sharp edge of the war. He is having many things disproven today.

"The trainers put me in medical track because I have a good memory and I wasn't scared of needles," Freeze says, subtly stepping in between Mace and CT-3122. "At least, that's what they told me, sir. I think sometimes they just pulled random units and made up reasons--I don't think the trainers spent that much time thinking about where we went."

"There's a lot of clones and not so many of the trainers," Ponds agrees. "Sometimes they just need to fill the numbers. When you're that young you can learn anything."

Objectively, this is a true statement, but Mace hates to hear it applied like this to the art of war.

"Is there anything else you wanted to know, sir?" Freeze asks.

"Yes," Mace says. "In light of the recent ceasefire, Ponds and I are arranging to transfer all the clones stationed at Kamino to other places. We have some options available already for you and your brothers--living in the Jedi Temple or in the new settlements in Alderaan or at one of our many Service Corps outposts, among other choices. But I wanted to know if there was anything you or your brothers wanted to do, now that the war is over. We can't promise anything, but we will do whatever we can to help you all achieve the lives you wish to live."

Panic strikes sharp through CT-3122's psyche, so much so that Mace has to force himself to not react. "We-We're getting reassigned? Sir?" he stammers. "But sir, we--these units still need us, if you assign us away, they'll--"

Freeze puts a hand on CT-3122's shoulder and makes a rapid set of signs with his opposite hand. CT-3122 watches, takes a deep breath, then replies with a string of his own signs.

It's not a sign language system for any language Mace knows--the best he can tell is that it's somewhat derived from standard military sign, but after that...he can't make heads or tails of it.

The silent conversation goes for about fifteen seconds longer, the two medics going through a whole rainbow of emotions, and then...

Ponds joins in, signing just as rapidly as the medics. Mace almost does a double-take. He had no idea Ponds knew whatever sign language system this is, much less that he was this fluent in it.

It takes about two minutes for the three clones to come to some kind of agreement, where Ponds pulls CT-3122 aside and tells Mace, "I need to talk to him in private for a little bit. We'll be right back."

CT-3122 still feels intensely upset, but it doesn't seem like he's scared of Ponds at all, just something about the situation.

"Of course," Mace says. "Take all the time you need."

Ponds nods and takes CT-3122 out of the room, still signing as he goes. Hopefully, Ponds can help whatever needs to be helped.

"General Windu, sir?" Freeze says.

"Yes, Freeze?"

"What you said about reassigning everyone in Kamino, is that true?"

Mace nods. "Now that the war is over, we want to help transition you and all your brothers into civilian life. Since you were commissioned by the Jedi, we feel it's our responsibility to help you the best ways we can."

"So this isn't...punishment?" Freeze asks tentatively.

"No," Mace says. "No, you're not being punished. None of you will be punished."

"Not even '22?" Freeze asks.

"No, I'm not punishing him--why would you think that?" Mace replies.

Freeze fidgets with the edge of his sleeve, then says, "You looked really upset earlier. When he told you why he became a medic. It's not his fault he's like that, sir. He's one of our best surgeons--he never panics no matter how bad it looks. He’s got the steadiest hands out of all of us."

"He said he wasn't affected by seeing his brothers die," Mace says, because he’s still not over the fact that CT-3122 had apparently seen at least one of his brothers die before the age of 4. If that’s any indication of how clones grow up in Kamino, then by any sane metric, every single clone must be horrifically traumatized.

Freeze swallows. "He's not--that's what the trainers said, not him. He doesn't show it, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care. He cares about us a lot, he really does."

Freeze is trying to protect CT-3122 from him, Mace realizes. Not just now, but earlier, too, trying to stand between him and CT-3122 as if that would make any kind of difference against a Jedi who, as Ponds had helpfully pointed out, could kill any of them with his mind.

Mace takes a deep breath. He hates to be treated like the kind of person who would abuse the men under his command, but these clones here in Kamino have never known anything else. Discipline was frequent and harsh, and every clone had to learn to stay in line or look like it well enough to pass the checks. He shudders to think what kind of damage that sort of upbringing would do to such young ones.

He supposes he will find out soon enough.

"I'm not going to hurt CT-3122, Freeze. I swear it on my own life, I'm not here to hurt any of you. None of this is your fault, and we just want to help," Mace says. "I know it's not easy to believe, and you've got no reason to take my word for it, with how you have been treated before, but we the Jedi want you and all your brothers to be happy."

Freeze looks at him with big amber eyes, as if sizing him up, then nods decisively. "Okay. General Ti kept her promises to let us grow our hair out and get tattoos without getting disciplined, so I'll believe you'll keep your promises too, sir."

"Thank you," Mace says. "I won't let you down."

Just then, the door slides open behind them and Ponds returns with CT-3122 pressed against his side. He's much more settled now--whatever Ponds said to him must have helped.

CT-3122 returns to Freeze's side, signing something that makes Freeze relax a bit more.

"I think we've stayed long enough," Ponds says. "We'll let you get back to your work, medics."

"Yes, C-Commander," CT-3122 says. "Thank you, sir."

"Thank you, General Windu, sir," Freeze says.

Without further ado, Ponds ushers Mace out of the workroom and out of the medbay.

"Was everything okay with CT-3122?" Mace asks.

Ponds sighs. "He was scared you were here to discipline him. He's never left Kamino--sending him away is about the scariest thing that can happen to him when he's still at least a year and a half out from deployment age."

"Were you able to explain things to him?"

"Not really," Ponds says. "There's...well, he's got reasons to be scared of disciplinary action--more than usual, I mean. It seems like some of the things medics do behind closed doors is behind closed doors for a reason."

Mace glances at him. "What, exactly, does that mean?"

Ponds rubs the back of his neck. "Sorry. I'm trying to explain it in a way that won't implicate anyone. It's not anything bad--it's good, what they're doing, it's just completely against regs, and if the people involved get caught, they could be decommissioned. Or executed by firing squad."

"The war is over now," Mace says. "Nobody's executing anyone."

"I know. I wouldn't have said this much if the war were still going, just..." Ponds shakes his head. "Never mind. Forget I said all that. The medics are saving lives in a way that would make some important people in the GAR upset, and 3122 was scared that someone had reported him. That's all you need to know, sir."

"I see," Mace says, though he doesn't really understand. He can't imagine why saving clone lives would make military officials unhappy--clones are, after all, a limited and valuable resource. "How did you get him to calm down?"

"I didn't," Ponds says. "I had to comm someone to explain things to him a bit better--CT-4444, or Carrion is his name. He's the chief medical officer of the 212th, and apparently he's 3122's big brother...sort of. Carrion’s older, so he got deployed way ahead of 3122, and 3122's been worried sick about it. Knowing Carrion's safe went a long way to making 3122 calm down about the end of the war. Carrion says he'll comm back later now that they're not on communications blackout, and that should help, too."

"Yes, I agree," Mace says. Hopefully CT-3122 and other similarly anxious clones can get some comfort in the coming days. He wishes he could offer some comfort himself, but the clones have only ever had the support of each other for so long that it would be the height of arrogance to think he could butt in on that. The sooner they can recall troops and reunite clones with the ones they care about, the better.

Speaking of CT-3122... Mace slips his hands into his sleeves. "I didn't know you knew sign language, Ponds."

Ponds nearly trips.

"It's very impressive," Mace continues. "I didn't recognize the sign from any major systems."

"It's...not from a major system, sir," Ponds says.

"I saw some similarities to military sign, but I couldn't tell more than that."

Ponds' presence is prickly and on-guard as he considers his next words. "There are some similarities, sir."

Mace takes a deep breath. "Ponds. I'm not going to punish you for knowing sign language. I was just surprised to see it, that's all. If I may ask, what system was it?"

"It's...it's our own, sir," Ponds says. "Clone sign. We developed it ourselves growing up here."

"You developed your own system of sign language?" Mace asks.

"Kamino has a lot of situations that require noise discipline," Ponds replies. "And the trainers were always listening in. The Kaminoans don't know the difference from military sign and the trainers didn't look closely enough to care. It's easier to conceal line of sight than earshot. Sign language was the natural solution."

"I've never seen any of the men use this sign language."

Ponds hesitates, then says, "We try not to use it in front of natborns, sir."

Mace supposes he can understand that. If the clones had come up with this sign language to communicate without the Kaminoans or their trainers listening in, it wouldn't make much sense to use sign right in front of them. "Could you teach me this sign language?" Mace asks.

Immediately, Ponds goes rigid. "Sir," he says tightly. "Sir, I can't do that."

"Ponds..."

"General, you...I trust you with my life, sir, but you have to understand. Growing up here in Kamino, we don't have anything to ourselves. The trainers are always watching, we don't choose our numbers or our clothes or our specializations or our bunks. We don't own our weapons or our uniforms or even ourselves. Sign language is the only form of privacy we have. Teaching anyone--even you--would be a massive breach of trust for all my brothers. I can't do it. Please don't--don’t ask me again, sir."

Ponds is practically shaking, and Mace sets a hand on his shoulder. He’s rarely ever seen Ponds get this...emotional. "Ponds. I'm sorry," Mace says. "I didn't mean to overstep like that. I won't ask again."

Ponds looks away. "Thank you, sir."

Mace starts walking again, heading towards the mess, and Ponds falls into step right by his side. The atmosphere is still awkward, but it eases with the silence.

"I think I have a better idea of how to handle your brothers, now. There's a lot of work we'll need to do to make sure we aren't just throwing all the men to the wolves out there," Mace says. He thinks for a bit, then says, "Maybe I should introduce Master Che to Freeze. I think she would like him."

"Freeze is a girl, sir," Ponds says.

Mace blinks. "Pardon?"

"You just called Freeze 'him'. She's a girl."

"Oh, my sincerest apologies," Mace says. He knows there are several clones who don't identify as male like their progenitor did, especially because the clones seem to have a foggy grasp on the concept of gender in the first place. With his battalion, though, someone had generally informed him beforehand. He tries to remember if anyone ever mentioned Freeze's gender, but he's pretty sure nobody had, and Ponds had already admitted he barely ever interacted with medics. "If it isn't rude to ask, how could you tell she’s a girl?"

"She notched her ID tag," Ponds replies. "Two notches in the left side to say she's a girl and wants to use those pronouns."

Mace can't even remember what Freeze's ID tag looked like. "And for CT-3122?"

"He's undecided, or doesn't care to say," Ponds says. "A lot of brothers are like that."

"Is there a system to...notching the ID tags?" Mace asks.

Ponds answers in the affirmative. "It's subtle enough the trainers don't notice. There's some similar kinds of markings for armor. If you're interested, that's something I can teach you. We don't really expect to get correctly gendered by natborns, but I don't think anyone would mind it if you did."

"I'd be honored, Commander," Mace says.

The two of them settle in for an especially bland dinner in the clones' mess and Ponds begins to explain the finer points of how he and his brothers express themselves. There's a lot more to it than Mace realized, even after six months of fighting by their side--a depth of surreptitious signals and markings meant to make themselves known to each other but anonymous to the overseers constantly looking over their shoulders.

If there's anything today has taught Mace, it's that there's so much he needs to learn when it comes to the clones, their background, and their culture--and he will. He’ll do whatever he can to make sure he does right by them.

He promised, after all.

#star wars #fanfic #fic: asynchronous circuit #mace windu #ponds #jessepinwrites

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alwaysdaenerys · 3 years

Text

The consequences of King Bran

I had this sudden thought about the end of Game of Thrones, in comparison to the theorized end to ASOIAF, in regards to King Bran. I’m not a huge fan of this ending, and yes this is obvious because of my username, I’m aware! But at least in the show, it was lackluster and not foreshadowed in the slightest. Things may be different in the books in any case, though this is not truly what I want to put on the table for others to discuss and analyze.

I’ve read and talked about with other fans about how making Bran king at the end of the book series may be advantageous, because the realm is healing from the significant massacre of its citizens during the Long Night. And if this is the case, the showrunners and writers missed a huge opportunity to kill more people. I’m not necessarily saying more main characters—though this is another problem I have with the show—but actually more smallfolk, more un-named or lesser lords, etc. The fact that D&D decided that the War for the Dawn was only going to last one fucking night is preposterous for many reasons, but the main one is: the Others and their wights would have never tired because they don’t need food for water or rest, and could have totally swept through the weak and depleted Riverlands, Reach, Stormlands, Crownlands even, with ease.

And because the writers did not extend the Long Night, because they didn’t kill half the humans in Westeros like the Others had the means to do, there are so many contenders left for seats of power. There is a logical argument in saying that Bran may be a good leader because there is literally no one else to take on the mantel; I will concede to that. But there are SO MANY CHARACTERS LEFT AT THE END OF THE SHOW. Bran has no army to defend him from all these people who command thousands of noticeably-alive soldiers. Who, if they were in character in the last season, would have had more to say about this tiny kid who they just met today being king of the fucking world.

And because he just hands the North its independence without asking anyone else if they’d like to petition the same thing, it will snowball out of control quite quickly.

Yara remains: the Iron Islands have a long history of coveting independence and now that their last liege, Daenerys, is no longer living, it won’t take them long to realize that they have no opposition on the high seas, or the battlefield. Who cares if land is not their strong suit? It will be against, you guessed it, an army of Tyrion and a wheelchair-bound Bran. Yara will raise her men, who, once again, are not walking dead, and they secede from the mainland for good. And Bran cannot do a thing because his faction has neither strength at sea nor land.

Dorne and its unnamed prince: another example of a region in Westeros that was continuously on the outs with the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. They were not truly “conquered” until the Daeron II married a Martell princess. The dragons were never able to hold Dorne on the battlefield so what makes anyone think that Bran Stark and his lack of dragons will? They’ll be the first to go, in my opinion, because at least Yara had a previous somewhat-working relationship with the Crown, whereas the unnamed Prince of Dorne has no obligations to a single person at that Great Council.

Edmure and the Riverlands: this region, in the show and in the books, is always the most affected my war. If the Others would have made it past Winterfell, the Riverlands would be next. The smallfolk suffered during the War of the Five Kings and Edmure knew it and wanted to help. I always thought it was clever of GRRM that he chose Edmure Tully to be one of the only lords that actually cared about his people, because of his region’s proximity to the conflict. Yes, Ned Stark may have cared for his people as a whole, but we never see him do anything as protective as Edmure is by letting the smallfolk into his keep, for the poor of the North. And in the show, since the Others did not even glimpse Riverrun and its vassals, the Tullys have the army they do at the end of season 6. Edmure won’t like that he was insulted by the Queen in the North, and will take his next move from Yara.

The Stormlands are a toss-up for me: Gendry owes his legitimization to Queen Daenerys, not Bran. So either he will be overthrown and/or killed by the other Stormlords immediately upon entering his keep, or they will persuade him to secede as well. Arya jilted Gendry and if we are to believe she plans to never see him again, there’s a pretty good chance Gendry won’t care about the consequences of his actions because he has nothing to lose. It seemed pretty obvious that he didn’t want to do all this lord stuff without the love of his life, so it’s not much of a leap to assume he wouldn’t care about the trappings of royalty anymore. Storm’s End is nearly impregnable and Bran has no army to besiege the castle like Mace Tyrell did during Robert’s Rebellion. I have no doubt that with or without Gendry, the nobles or the Stormlands will not be appreciative of Bran or Tyrion. Maybe they haven’t flirted with independence quite as much as others have since Aegon the Conqueror, but it will feel monumentally better than watching all the other kingdoms secede and stay silent.

The Eyrie seems to the most realistic example here, as far as what the regions will be like after the defeat of the Others: the Knights of the Vale participated in the War for the Dawn, therefore the fighting force has been depleted. And I would argue that they have a very similar situation to the Stormlands; Rhaenys was only able to bring the Arryns into the fold by flying her dragon to the castle. Once again, without dragons, I don’t see how Bran is going to be as successful. Robin Arryn doesn’t know Bran; he was all in for Sansa. But since Sansa decided to leave him in the lurch to declare independence, I don’t think he and his advisors are going to stay besties with her. Sitting out the War of the Five Kings makes it even easier for me to theorize that they would be just fine on their own.

The state of the Reach is the most embarrassing thing that happened on Game of Thrones: the fact that we have to watch Bronn of the fucking Blackwater sit in the Queen of Thorns’ seat of power is a travesty. I always liked him on the show and in the books, but this, I cannot forgive. He is woefully ill-equipped to be lord of a keep, let alone Highgarden, and putting him on the small council as MASTER OF COIN when he can’t read or understand loans was beyond lazy. As far as the state of the Reach, they are pretty depleted from the sack of Highgarden, but even so, it seems painfully obvious that his lack of support from the other lords in the region will be his downfall. Maybe they weren’t 100% supportive of the Tyrells either, but there’s no way any of them will allow some up-jumped sellsword who’s best friends with Tyrion Lannister to lead them. Since Bronn has no army of his own, he’ll be dead soon enough and someone who was decidedly not killed during the Long Night, will take his place and give a middle finger to the Iron Throne, just like Olenna.

The Westerlands are the weakest of the remaining Six Kingdoms, I think: they don’t have much of an army after the Battle of King’s Landing. I think they’d be the only support of Bran after he is crowned, and that’s because Tyrion is the Hand. After Daenerys took Casterly Rock, most everyone bent the knee or died, so Tyrion doesn’t even have a suitable army to defend him, let alone the castle. I can’t imagine the soldiers remaining after all this would be enough to take on all the rebellions that are destined to occur after the secession of the North.

Lastly, the North: how will Bran react when his home region is starving and begging for aid? They have nothing to feed their people in the cold, white North. Yes, a lot of people died in the war, but there are plenty who didn’t participate and since it didn’t get past Winterfell, only those involved in the Battle—and the Umbers—were affected. Will the new king give it, even though they have no right to ask for it? Will he defy the laws of the realm for his sister? Because as far as I’m concerned, the North cannot sustain itself without the help of the other kingdoms. It’s not warm enough for farming, while the livestock trade was probably diminished when the Boltons were Wardens. Sansa would rather be in the Queen in the North than actually take care of her subjects; because by choosing independence, she has doomed everyone. Nothing changes for the smallfolk; it’s just another feudal overlord.

In conclusion: if Bran becomes King, there would have to be an apocalypse for it to be successful. There definitely wasn’t on the show, therefore several events will cause his coronation to be all for naught before Tyrion’s ten years are up. As GRRM has stated, the Others are the focus of the story and who sits on the Iron Throne is a secondary plot to distract from the actual horror. I’m not usually someone to ask for more horror, but when it comes to the future of Westeros under King Bran, things are looking terribly bleak without more of it.

#anti got #anti d&d #post s8 speculations #king bran #bran stark #asoiaf speculation #got

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rein-ette · 3 years

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Hi! Could you give us some modern day German bros hcs?

Yes. Absolutely. Thank you for asking, this is one of my favourite topics ever.

I know canon says that Gilbert lives in Lud’s basement and mooches off of him, but may I assert that Gilbert actually lives in the basement of his own house, which he bequeathed to Ludwig, while he spent time rotting in Soviet prison. The house, along with a significant (but diminishing) majority of Lud’s savings were all originally Gilbert’s fortune, only gathered after saving every penny of his officers commissions for centuries. Now, this isn’t to say that Ludwig mooches off Gilbert either, because Lud does work his sweet muscular ass off and earns a respectable wage from the federal government. And it’s true that legally, Lud did inherit Gilbert’s property in the West. But Gil still has every right to live in a house he bought, and he only chose to take the basement floor because 1) it seemed kinda mean spirited to make Ludwig move out of the master bedroom after living there for 3 decades, and 2) the “basement” floor is a complete flat in and of itself, so he and Ludwig can both have some measure of privacy.

Warning: way more rambling ahead

As for living fees, I hc that Prussia fulfills a role in government as the state of Brandenburg. Others may disagree that Brandenburg should have its own “national” representative, an idea I’ve toyed with myself, but I’ve settled on the interpretation of history where Prussia is Brandenburg for several reasons. The main one is that while Prussia is a geographical expression referring to the area around Königsberg that is now Russian/Polish, Prussia is also a historical, political, and cultural entity. Berlin has been the seat of Prussian power and the symbol of its culture, ideals, and traditions from the very beginning — what we think of when we say Prussia (the historical state) really began as Brandenburg, who’s ruling family (the Hohenzollerns) subsequently acquired Prussia (the Polish territory) and saw an opportunity to crown themselves King, using the Prussian title as a convenient “excuse” (for various political reasons). In short: the name “Prussia” is misleading — the state of Brandenburg-Prussia has always been more Brandenburg than it’s been Prussian.

I DIGRESS. The point is Prussia also earns part of his wages for himself from the Brandenburg state government. He doesn’t work nearly as much with the gov as the others (Arthur, Francis) do though: mostly 'cause the government can function by itself and doesn't need much advice from Prussia, who's wealth of experience is not readily applicable to like, park-building and such anyways. When Lud becomes overwhelmed Gil also helps out with his paperwork, but -- and this is, I believe, rather idiosyncratic to the German gov -- Gil does not often attend functions in an official capacity. Since the war, the new German government has wanted for obvious reasons to distance itself as much from its past as possible, so having too many people know about Gilbert's real identity, or even having him work to closely with the PM just feels...wrong. Officially Prussia may now simply be the state of Brandenburg, but its clear that's not all he is. He has the Old World air, the kind of presence that reminds humans he is the collision of a thousand lifetimes all at once, a breathing monument to history. And so for the modern German state, which has struggled so desperately to throw off the shadows of its past, to associate closely with the embodiment of Prussia is just not great for everyone involved.

This brings me to another dynamic that I've wanted to explore in a fic for a long time: how terribly young Ludwig is compared to the nations he works with. I mean, Germany only became a thing in 1871, less than 200 years ago. While I hc him to have existed for a couple decades before that, slowly growing under Prussia's care, this man is still younger than either Alfred or Matt. And yet he has to work closely and on equal terms with nations that are more than ten times as old as he is. Of course, former colonies like Al and even younger ones like New Zealand also work on equal terms with older countries like England now, but Ludwig has the added disadvantage of needing to protect a legacy. He may be young, but the cultures he now represents are not. He does not get to start afresh. He does not get to revolt against imperialism and forge his own destiny. And unlike former colonies, the day Ludwig truly stepped out of his brother's shadow and became a nation in his own right was not a day of victory but of defeat. All this weighs heavily on him; essentially, Ludwig carries the same two-thousand burden of history his fellow Europeans do, but without the corresponding two thousand years of experience. And do his colleagues go easy on him? Of course they fucking don't. His colleagues are people like England, France, Denmark, Netherlands...they're fucking menaces is what they are, and they don't baby nobody. You can either make it or you can't, and despite being the age of these nation's children, by the simple virtue of being European Lud is expected to be able to play by "their rules" -- to know the ins and outs of ancient relationships, traditions, and beef from the Middle Ages -- the whole shebang. If America fucks up in a world meeting the Europeans will whisper "Well he's still just a child", if Ludwig fucks up in an EU meeting he has simply fucked up, period. No excuses. This is the world they grew up in, and they expect Ludwig to be able to navigate it too.

Of course, this has it perks as well. It means that unlike former colonies, Ludwig doesn't have to deal with as much constant condescension and patronization. Lud is not their child or their friend's child -- at most he is a younger brother, and by taking on the mantle of Prussia and the other German states Ludwig is automatically an equal. But there were still moments where Ludwig felt out of place. In the first few decades after the war, these mostly occurred in more relaxed, social situations -- parties, informal negotiations, the type of diplomacy that takes place over drinks and behind closed doors. This was the gentleman's club, a place where the lingering sense among old European powers that they are members of the most exclusive and desirable social group in the world was strongest. While various forces such as the EU, globalization, decolonization, and Americanization have eroded this kind of gate-keeping, there remains instances where Ludwig is sharply reminded of his age. Its often the small things -- a glance across the meeting room, an old joke, a shared memory. Maybe Ludwig hears through Gilbert that Francis is more stressed than he seems. Maybe Ned succeeds in persuading Arthur of something in private when Ludwig couldn't. Maybe he visits Austria and is surprised to see Spain is also there. Among any group of old friends there is always a sense of "us" and "them", and while Ludwig may have taken his brother's political place in Europe, socially Prussia is a kind of "us" that Ludwig will never quite achieve.

I hate to end this on such an abrupt note, but I'm afraid if I don't I will never stop talking. Thanks cake for enabling me, and if anyone wants a part two hit me up. I haven't even fucking gotten to PruAusHun yet, or all the other German siblings.

#hws germany #hws prussia #many many others mentioned #my hcs #ask #needcake #ugh i'll just tag a couple #hws netherlands #hws england #hws france #hws austria #hws spain #there thats good enough #also 1900s onwards is modern right #imma assume you meant The Modern Age which is 1800s onwards ok great

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whumpmatsus · 3 years

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Ooh! Ooh! Hi there! Could I please request the brothers having a petty fight with their partner and accidentally saying something unnecessarily harsh? Like, specifically prodding at their S/O's insecurity and then feeling MONUMENTALLY shitty when they realize what they just said, and trying to make it up to them. Thank you!!!

hi!! :D

oh boy nobody is happy here... except us XD

💚 CHOROMATSU 💚

Shit. Shit, shit, shit! Did he… did he really just say that to them?! Why would his brain let something so stupid slip out of his mouth?! That’s… that’s like something Osomatsu would do, not a sensitive guy like Choromatsu. Right…? … Oh, no, he’s sunk down to the level of his oldest brother. He didn’t mean to pick at (Name)’s wounds like that, it’s just… he was angry, and he just said the worst thing that came to mind. He realizes how horrible it was to say as soon as it comes out of his mouth. From that second on, he’s apologizing in any possible way he can. Verbal apologies, forgoing his usual purchases of idol merch to buy them something nice, doing anything he thinks they might like. God, he would do anything if they would just… forgive him… please… please.

💜 ICHIMATSU 💜

What? What the fuck is wrong with them that they’d break down just because he touched one little nerve? He’s not that important that it should matter what dumb shit comes out of his mouth! Did he hurt their feelings? They’re lucky he didn’t say something worse! On the one hand, he’s just so fed up with whatever the argument was about that he wanted what he said to hurt and is glad it did. On the other hand… he knows how painful and exposing it feels to have someone dig at your soft parts. Overall he’s not proud of the fact that he hurt them, and that’s the last thing he ever wanted to do, and he fucking hates himself for doing it this time. He disappears immediately, slamming the door, withdrawing from everyone. Not because he doesn’t care how shitty what he said was, but because he doesn’t want to do it again. He resurfaces several days later and does his best to win back their trust. His apology involves a good deal of self-deprecation… he does manage a proper one amid it, though. Whatever they want him to do to make it up, he’ll do it. He just… doesn’t want them to leave.

💛 JYUSHIMATSU 💛

Why… why the heck would he even say something like that?? Sure, he can be a jerk when the situation calls for it, but… but not to someone he loves! Not like that! What happened? He’s pretty sure he just… got so worked up that he ended up saying something he didn’t mean. The downside of being so open and vulnerable with his S/O is that when they’re fighting, they both have perfect ammunition. He knows it wasn’t right to say something that hurt them so much, and yet he just… stands there staring, covering his own mouth, and breaking down in tears when they practically run away from him. Perhaps it’s not surprising, he cries a lot in the following days, both due to the knowledge that he caused pain to someone he loves, and because he doesn’t know how to fix it. Eventually he just sort of runs and attaches himself to them, giving them constant hugs and kisses, begging them that he’ll never do it again. He’ll do anything they want! Anything, if they just forgive him and don’t go away!!

💙 KARAMATSU 💙

Oh… oh, no, no, no, no…what just came out of his mouth? What in the absolute hell did he just say?! How… how could he allow himself to stoop so low as to say such a terrible thing to someone he loves so dearly? Worse than anything else, it was something they trusted him with, they shared this insecurity with him and thought he’d understand and expected him to treat it gently and to hold it with careful hands. He’s betrayed that trust they showed him, and second only to Ichimatsu he’s the one who would beat himself up about it the most. He can’t believe he was so careless with the feelings of someone he loves. It takes a minute for him to fully process that he just said that… and once he does, he’s mortified with himself. He never wanted to hurt them. Everything that his S/O can think of that he might do to apologize, he does. Poems and songs and love letters… genuine, heartfelt, cheesy apologies at any opportunity. He tries so hard to win them back, it’s almost like he thinks he needs to court them all over again… like he’s accidentally set their relationship back to zero and he has to cling with all he has. He doesn’t want to ruin this like he ruins everything else.

❤️ OSOMATSU ❤️

Oh, WHAT?! Do they think he shouldn’t have said that? That he crossed over some kind of stupid invisible line? It’s a fight! That’s what people do when they fight, they say idiotic shit they don’t always mean and it’s supposed to hurt like hell! He’s too pissed about whatever dumb thing they were arguing about to fully realize that he just landed a direct hit… until he takes a few breaths and notices they’re looking at him like that. Like he just broke their whole fucking heart. Like they… never wanna see him again. Like they can’t even be around him right now. That hurts more than any word they could ever give him, and his fight-or-flight gets triggered, and he hits flight. He runs away to hide, almost not believing that what just happened actually just happened. What did he do? What the fuck did he do?! He’s… depressed now. He doesn’t think they want anything more to do with him, so he stays away for a long time. When he finally does approach them again, he breaks down sobbing almost immediately and says he doesn’t know why they’d wanna stay with him, but that he can’t take it, that they’re missing from him and whatever they need him to do, he’ll do it, he just can’t lose them because of his own stupid, selfish bullshit.

💖 TOTTY 💖

Are they surprised? Are they pissed at him now? This is what he’s good at! This is the only thing he’s good at, is pouncing on people’s weaknesses and tearing them apart until there’s nothing left. Usually he doesn’t do it so thoughtlessly; it’s often a more calculated, manipulative, calm thing. He shocks himself a bit that he can say something so cutting without barely considering what other things he could say. He knows what will hurt them, so it’s the first thing he goes for when he’s in this kind of a fight. He’s proud of himself for half a second… then he sees their face and what he’s just done hits him like a bullet. He just stands there, frozen, as his beloved S/O runs away from him in tears. That hurt them. That hurt them, and he’s the one who did it. Fuck. He’d say he feels two inches tall, but even that’s being too generous. He sends them texts every day trying to ask if they’ll talk to him, or apologizing, even though he’s very sure he wouldn’t forgive himself for that kind of thing. He just… he doesn’t want to go back to being alone. He screwed up, and he knows it, and… can they just… talk to him…?

#Osomatsu san #whump #Choromatsu #Ichimatsu #Jyushimatsu #Karamatsu #Osomatsu #Totty #reaction #romantic #emotional whump #angst #OH THIS SHIT!! HURTED! IT DID!#but I love it XD

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oven-thermometer · 3 years

Text

Darksiders week Day II

Day 2: Shipping - Any rating (so long as nsfw works are tagged properly!) and any trope, so long as it involves shipping. Please note that a ship does not have to be canon (i.e. presented as a ship in the existing material) to count–in some other reality, they could have loved each other. Also, I hear human survivors have been reported by the Hellguard, so feel free to bring your OCs as well!

This is my first time writing anything with an OC, I'm happy it was Aurora because I love her so much. Also I know it's day 3 today but I didn't get to post yesterday and my work gave me the day off??? For some reason?? So I get to post today :>

What Aurora looks like and her different forms It helps to just check this post out to make the story easier to read

Warnings: blood, fighting, angst, lying, description of bad wounds, animal harm (by demons) and death.

The large golden doors swung open violently, slamming into the adjacent walls. Darkness in the hallway was chased away by the piercing light from Hell’s eternal fires raging across it’s plains. Taking her hands off from the doors, her hung head lifted up slowly. Her eyes caught the large throne situated at the end of the hallway, it’s impending presence making her swallow the invisible lump in her throat. ‘At least he’s not here.’ She thought, making her way down the dimly lit hallway, the candles burning to life as she walked past.

“Aurora.” her name was called in a monotone voice. Turning her head, she located the voice at one of the side doors next to the throne. Emerging from said door, was her mother. The woman that constructed her and made her into what she was today. She held neither malice nor love towards her. She had been made into a monster but she never knew the proper way to be treated by someone you were made by so she really had no point of reference. Coming out of her musings she walked further towards the woman. “Lilith.” she said, nodding her head in greeting.

Lilith sauntered closer, stopping in front of the taller creature. Aurora shifted her legs, waiting for her to speak. Lilith hummed and narrowed her eyes before quickly turning around. “You have a new mission. This one pertains quite importantly to the grand plan Samael and I have,” turning half her body to look over her shoulder she made clear eye contact with Aurora, “success is the only outcome that will be accepted. Are we clear?”

Lilith punctuated her last words by closing her fists, reminding Aurora of he last time she hobbled back into Samael’s castle with defeat written all over her wounded body. Shuddering slightly at the thought, she nodded. Lilith turned fully towards the throne again and stepped towards it. Picking up a small scroll of decaying paper from the stone and opening it, she spoke again, “You are to travel to Earth.”

Aurora looked up, her long ears perking up at the name, “Earth? Why there?”

Lilith slid her tail along the floor, signifying her annoyance at the question. Aurora looked back down and mumbled an apology. Lilith drew her shoulders back and closed the scroll once again, “The apocalypse will soon be triggered, Earth will become the battleground for monumental forces. You will travel there and, using your human-form, you will find the horseman that will be sent to find the cause of the trigger.”

Aurora shifted on her legs again, she hated being in her human form. It meant she had to lie. She could deal with the killing and the war but lying and infiltrating made her stomach turn. Deceit was what came with that form.

Pushing her feelings down, she held one of her hands out for the scroll Lilith was holding. Lilith left it in her outstretched hand, making her way back to the side door before adding, “You must seduce him Aurora. You’ve done this kind of thing before and I have complete faith you won’t disappoint me.”

Aurora nodded again, her eyes scanning the contents of the page for more details. “Oh and Aurora, bring him to that location before the third torch atop of this castle is blown out by the dry winds.”

Blood curdling screams replaced the quiet alleyways with sheer terror. Stepping out of the void portal Aurora took cautious steps further out of the alleyway – more screams making her turn her head towards the impeding invasion of demons from a large tear in the Earth. Large orange lava spewed from the enormous crack as demons screeched and hollered from rooftops and street lamps.

Aurora sneered from her place in the alleyway, she may be part demon but this was never who she was. Innocent humans were being torn apart right in front of her and all she could do was look on for the being she was meant to trick into her plans. She had never met any of the Nephelim, even before their demise due to four of their own. Everyone knew the story, even her. She felt sorry for the remaining four, they had been forced to murder their entire family and proceeded to work for the very beasts who bargained with their lives. Lilith also spoke of them often, cursing the four mostly. That was why Aurora was made, so that one day the spawn of angel and demon might continue.

Shaking her head, she returned to her search. Spotting another large tear and a large trail of fire and smoke further into the streets of the city she identified the crash site of the warrior. She swiftly brushed off her clothes, stopping midway as she realized she had to look dirty and beaten for him to take pity on her. Sighing, she threw her head back in sarcastic amusement.

Aurora had made her way from the alleyway towards a building used as a parking lot across the road. Smears of blood and bodily fluid littered the floor, the faint noise of muffled grunts off to one corner caught her attention. A man, a human, was being pinned to the wall as a pack of small demons overpowered him and took their opportunity to rip the scared features from his face. As the life left his eyes and his last whine of pain escaped, his head lolled forwards. Stopping in her tracks, Aurora’s face held no emotion. Seeing this as her opportunity to gain the injuries she required, she started attracting the group over from their feast. She stomped her feet and shouted at them to gain their attention. “Hey you stupid mongrels,” she put her hands on her hips and gave a low whistle, “how’s the invasion going dimwits?”

The mindless demons quirked their heads at her - they could smell that she wasn’t human, but she didn’t look supernatural. Snapping out of their daze, as if acting with a hive mind, they snarled and charged violently forwards towards her. Aurora lifted her forearms to act as guards, awaiting the attack.

Her breath felt like it was made of lead. Her arms and legs covered in bruises, welts and scratches. The vicious pain of her combined wounds made her head dizzy as she leaned against one of the concrete walls. Slouching forward she slid down slowly to sit down on the cold floor. Her mind was blank. Only focusing on keeping her healing magic at bay so as not to erase the work the now squashed demons did. As soon as she was content with how much damage they did, Aurora began her offense. Making quick work of them, she needed a moment before venturing out of the building again. She wiped the blood pooling on her chin, the viscous material flowing freely from her nose and mouth due to broken cartilage and cracked teeth.

A small scratching noise caught her attention, lifting her head she looked towards the cars sitting in their lots. It was coming from there, she was sure. It only got louder, a pitiful whining shortly accompanying it. Was it…another human? The demons would’ve killed them before though, or were they sparing them to witness the torture? If it was a person she would need to make sure they won’t get out of this alive: they could’ve seen her use her powers after all.

She stalked closer to the collection of crashed and parked cars, broken glass and more blood breaking beneath her boots. The whining and scratching continued to increase in volume, making her cock her head to the side in confusion. A thin tarp laden with dust and dirt covered the small opening between two cars that had evidently been in a bad crash. Aurora could now also hear deep and scratchy breathing – similar to her own. The whining seemed one akin to an animal, this only deepened her confusion. Lifting the tarp she readied an attack spell in her flesh hand, but what met her eyes gave her pause. A large, white hound met her vision. It’s thick fur stained with it’s own blood. It was slightly smaller than the Hell Hounds that she was used to. Awkwardly shifting again, she pulled more of the material away and threw it behind her. The dog’s labored breathing and flowing wounds made her heart ache – humans had minds, and some of them were vile beings. But, animals and beasts with no sentient choices only wanted peace. They never deserved whatever terrible treatment they got – quickly realizing Aurora made her think of her own situation, she shook her head and lowered herself to her knees. Banishing the attack spell she replaced it with her healing magic.

As she healed the creature she thought to herself, ‘Was that man your owner?’ She didn’t dwell on that thought either.

It’s breathing improved and it’s gashes closed, but it remained unconscious out of exhaustion after her magic had stopped. Sighing, Aurora questioned why she even did this. It was going to get found again. It may be almost as big as a Hell Hound, but it clearly couldn’t fight as well.

Again, another noise drew her attention away from the situation. A large crash near the entrance to the building made her quickly clamber to her feet. ‘More demons??’ she thought, exasperated. But, it was no demon. In fact, it was the one being she needed on this hellish mission.

War’s voice boomed, calling after the pathetic demons that had run from their battle. “Scum!” he shouted, “I saw you running in here with your tail between your legs, come out for a merciful decimation!” ‘Geez, he isn’t one for pleasantries, huh?’ Aurora thought to herself. Swiftly slipping into her role, she began limping her way away from the cars – although the limp wasn’t fake.

Accidentally tripping on a large piece of fallen concrete, her hands automatically came up to cushion her fall. Her metal limb creating a sharp noise against the floor caused her to cringe.

Stopping his intimidating rant, War looked over to the small human. His stony features showed no shock or confusion of any kind. Not any emotion at all. Aurora gave a small grunt, quickly getting to her knees before her eyes landed on the impressive height of War. Scrambling backwards, her face showed a feeling of utter fear. Her mouth hung open as she raised an arm in mock defense, her bionic arm. War’s eyes flashed a light of pity before turning back to their normal cloudy blue. “P-Please..Don’t - hurt me.” Aurora kept her widened eyes on him, showing nothing but the want to live another minute.

War turned fully to her form, acknowledging her wounds, her tired eyes and how she didn’t even seem to have the strength to stand. Forgetting the beasts he was chasing, he wracked his brain for what to do. He had a mission, a purpose – but this, thing, looked so helpless and in desperate need of help. Walking the short distance towards her, he took a healing potion out of his supply belt and set it down in front of her. “Use it.” Is all he said before leaving the building, and Aurora. Rearing her head back in confusion, she lowered her arm and tsked in annoyance. Grabbing the large container of green liquid, she ran as fast as her bleeding legs could take her after the Nephilim. He wasn’t going particularly fast, his normal walking pace, but to Aurora’s state it was difficult to catch up with.

“Wait!” she called out after him. War stopped and looked back at her over his shoulder. Huffing, Aurora got closer and looked up to him, “Are you just gonna leave me here?!”

It was War’s turn to be confused, not visibly though, “Excuse me?” Motioning to her wounds as she spoke, Aurora replied, “Well I am arguably not in the best of states and seeing as you obviously don’t want to kill me, could you at least escort me to a safe place?”

Aurora’s heartbeat roared in her ears, she couldn’t believe she was talking this way to a Horseman. But she needed some way of being near him. War grunted, turning his head back to look onward, “Move quickly, I will take you to the angels.”

Smiling to herself, Aurora followed closely behind as he made his way towards a horde of angels a few blocks away.

#darksiders #darksiders war #darksiders oc #darksiders fanfiction #fanfiction #darksiders x oc #writing #darksiders week 2021 #DarksidersWeek2021

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