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drinkrust · 2 years

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a reluctant goodbye to YIIK: A Postmodern RPG

note: this was originally written on 01/17/2022

YIIK: A Postmodern RPG sports a unique reputation. the public opinion of the game is irreparably fucked, but few people actually took the time to play it. it is in the spectrum of works that are so big in scope and fail so spectacularly that it forms a hole of discourse around it that attracts even people that wouldn’t even wanna touch it if it was considered good.

an interesting quirk of YIIK is that it is not an unfinished game. it’s done and presumably fulfilled the artistic ambitions of Ackk Studios, the team behind it. it’s a flawed premise executed badly, and every aspect of it got discussed to the ends of the earth. it’s a confusing game, and a wordy one at that.

it drops and picks up new plot points incessantly at will, and is very happy to send the player into hours-long detours only to introduce some new characters and make you play through a boring cave dungeon. it goes to massive lengths to gaslight you to make a dumb plot twist work, and it shamelessly drags out its Paper Mario-inspired combat minigames to make battles take 10 minutes each, but still, i cannot say that i hate YIIK.

it may be a bad game, but it’s hardly boring. i couldn’t look away from the disaster in front of me. i devoured the whole 15 hours that it gave me in a weekend. i can’t say any game this interesting is not worthwhile.

the writing is just so interesting. all characters share a bit of a hive-mind mentality between themselves to different degrees, which i can only explain as the writer letting way too much of himself into the story. and it doesn’t help that it is very easy to see where that disconnection in the characters begins and ends.

basically every time someone starts a philosophical monologue you can just assume that is the case. for example, when Michael dumps his whole backstory while getting into a big anecdote about his cousin’s supernatural experiences, he lets out the same personality quirks as Alex in his long rants. when a character does this, the other characters who are listening turn into pace-breaking audience surrogates that just ask convenient questions that let the main speaker continue the monologue. in the example i gave Alex takes that role (and that really does not fit his established character, if you can even call it that).

and that makes for some very unpredictable writing. YIIK starts talking about hundreds of things, but it quickly forgets about them before even leaving the “dictionary definition” part of the discussion. some may find this insufferable, but it can be amusing in a way. it’s like taking a thorough look into what can go wrong with the stream of consciousness writing if not edited appropriately, with some passionate and dramatic voice acting going along with it.

it even surprises you from time to time. some of the later themes that YIIK wants to get into were in fact foreshadowed in a lot of the dialogue that came before, but the game gets into so much unrelated shit up to that point that it comes as a genuine shock.

the writing in YIIK is just insane like that. very uniquely insane. but it doesn’t even comprise most of the game, because sometimes, you hardly get any dialogue for hours at a time (but mostly in the mid-game). when it does this, it’s time for dungeons!

and they suck. most of the dungeons are overly long, unnecessarily confusing, blend together, and are painfully linear. it’s bad in a very similar way to the writing, which makes for an unexpectedly consistent experience.

even the dungeons that try to be different and not only slightly decorated corridors end up being linear, and even overall worse than the most straightforward ones. Vella’s mind dungeon is a clear example of this. it consists of the main hub with like 10 doors, each leading you into a linear trek through enemies and some puzzles. the thing is, a lot of these doors can only be cleared when you have some stuff that you can get in the orders, so if you didn’t luck out and went into the correct orders you need to constantly go back and forth through them to finish it. and the areas they hold aren’t that small. it’s just a more convoluted and boring way to do things. it sucks.

but, again, these dungeons can be interesting, even knowing that battles each take 10x more time to beat than they should (and that dungeons are littered with them!). they serve as big changes of pace that give you uninterrupted hours that you can use to chew the plot that was given to you.

there are even good games that do this, like Pathologic. in that game, in between all of the heavy dialogue riddled with decision-making, you take long walks that never become dull. you are always thinking about what you just experienced, and planning out ahead. in YIIK, it’s just like that, except you try to understand what the fuck the game was trying to say.

everything in this game tries to stretch to reach somewhere but only gets caught up in itself, and in the end, i felt a bit empty finishing it. i mean, the ending is perplexing as it is, but i did get the same empty feeling i get when i finish any RPG, where i have to say goodbye to that world.

so yeah, i do think that YIIK is a worthwhile game. but i still have something to talk about regarding it. just when i finished it, i received the news that this whole article would become irrelevant really quick.

recently, the game’s developers announced YIIK I.V., a big (and free!) update that will radically change many aspects of the game, including the whole combat and leveling systems (which are my biggest gripes with it). but well, i just finished the game. not the I.V., just the normal game. and i wish more people got the opportunity to play it as it is right now.

mind you, I.V. is not the first time YIIK gets an update. my own playthrough had some decently-sized patches applied that changed cutscenes and nerfed/buffed some skills and bosses, but it wasn’t anywhere close to the scope of what’s promised to change in I.V.

but you know, i just want the original game to be preserved in some way. i’m sure that the story will still be batshit insane when the game gets changed, and that many of its plot points will still be at the same time over and underexplained, but the tightly maddening original experience will still be lost to time.

ok, so let me explain what i mean by this drivel. with the large-scale normalization of patches as tools for developers that came to be as a consequence of online services and overall better internet, a lot of the original 1.0 versions of countless games (especially ones without physical releases) are being left only in the hands of piracy sites, many of which could go offline at any moment.

the historical shitshow of Cyberpunk 2077’s 1.0, the empty wastelands of No Man Sky’s 1.0, and all of the other underwhelming releases that were heavily patched later (and that’s not counting MMOs!). all of these are already inaccessible through normal means, and while you technically can access them with a physical version of the games (and only while setting the console to offline), this is still a major hurdle to go through, and will only get harder and harder to access as the years go by and the games physical copies go up in price.

what i’m talking about here is that even though these are just straight-up worse versions of the game, i still want them to exist. they are often more interesting than the newer, fixed(ier) versions, and are important for early historical preservation of the still brand new medium of video games. a lot of old games were already lost to time, but what about the infinite amount of different versions of the same game nowadays? i’m not saying that every version should be kept, but man, at least the first one could be preserved.

but yeah, what i’m asking for here will most likely never happen, and i understand why. no developer or publisher would like to give players a broken or worse version of their game, and that’s why in the few cases that you can easily and officially play older versions (like with Minecraft), they are still functional builds with no rough edges aside from having less content.

so, with that big aside (wow, just like the huge tangents in YIIK, how clever!!!), i want to get into why i chose YIIK to be the focus of this piece. with the examples i gave before, the games were missing content in the case of No Man’s Sky or completely broken in the case of Cyberpunk 2077, but YIIK is different.

the old version that got discussed to hell and back is complete. it had a couple of bugs, but nothing major like with Cyberpunk. and it’s not missing content because there’s a lot of shit in this game. sometimes too much for its own good even.

like i said at the beginning, YIIK as it stands before the I.V. update is a complete rendition of a vision (even if it doesn’t completely match the expectations of its developers) and it gives any player that chooses to engage with it a lot to chew on, even if it’s all horrible.

what if the update removes the honestly iconic line shown below?

what if fixes the slog that is your first visit to Wind Town, where the combat first shows its ugly and repetitive face? what about the combat itself?

YIIK’s old version will only legally be available through the countless videos talking about it. a lot of those videos are pretty cool, but people who see that won’t be able to play it like that anymore.

but still, it’s not like i want YIIK to be bad forever. i wish the best for the studio with the I.V. update i want it to be good. i want the developers to close their chapter with this game that they’ve been working on for almost a decade and then move on to something new, but i also believe that bad games deserve love too!

also, i acknowledge that this isn’t the end of the world. i just wanted a way to encapsulate my feelings about the game while also talking about game preservation, an aspect of the medium that i also think should be talked about more, even if it’s more abstractly like i just did. anyway, thank u for reading! ^-^

#yiik: a postmodern rpg #yiiking out #jrpg

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theculturedmarxist · 2 years

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Apparently part of what's crippling the Democrats is that identity politics is eating them alive from the inside.

The article sounds like an encapsulation of a lot of what we've seen from the petite bourgeois "Left" over the past decade, and that's basically a lot of power struggles over very limited professional-managerial positions using woke/progressive language as a bludgeon to make space, clear out rivals, or secure their own position. These individuals are interested less in bringing about material, appreciable change, and more about getting jobs or moving up in these activist/progressive organizations.

During the 2020 presidential campaign, as entry-level staffers for Sanders repeatedly agitated over internal dynamics, despite having already formed a staff union, the senator issued a directive to his campaign leadership: “Stop hiring activists.” Instead, Sanders implored, according to multiple campaign sources, the campaign should focus on bringing on people interested first and foremost in doing the job they’re hired to do.

There are obvious difficulties for the leadership of progressive organizations when it comes to pushing back against staff insurrections. The insurrections are done in the name of justice, and there are very real injustices at these organizations that need to be grappled with. Failing to give voice to that reality can leave the impression that group leaders are only interested in papering over internal problems and trying to hide their own failings behind the mission of the organization. And in an atmosphere of distrust, the worst intentions are assumed. Critics of this article will claim that its intention is to tell workers to sit down and shut up and suck up whatever indignities are doled out in the name of progress.

The reckoning has coincided with an awakened and belated appreciation for diversity in the upper ranks of progressive organizations. The mid-2010s saw an influx of women into top roles for the first time, many of them white, followed more recently by a slew of Black and brown leaders at most major organizations. One compared the collision of the belated respect for Black leaders and the upswell of turmoil inside institutions with the “hollow prize” thesis. The most common example of the hollow prize is the victory in the 1970s and ’80s of Black mayors across the country, just as cities were being hollowed out and disempowered. Or, for instance, salaries in the medical field collapsed just as women began graduating into the field.

“I just got the keys and y’all are gonna come after me on this shit?” one executive director who said he felt like a version of those ’70s-era mayors told The Intercept. “‘It’s white supremacy culture! It’s urgent!’ No motherfucker, it’s Election Day. We can’t move that day. Just do your job or go somewhere else.”

Being Black has by no means shielded executive directors or their deputies from charges of facilitating white supremacy culture. “It’s hard to have a conversation about performance,” said the manager. “I’m as woke as they come, but they’ll say, ‘He’s Black, but he’s anti-Black because he fired these Black people.’” The solution, he said: “I buy them to leave, I just pay them to leave.”

#democrats #the intercept #free speech #petite bourgeois #us politics

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iamtheblondestblonde · 4 years

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Missed You This Much

AN: So apparently I am a porn director now. This literally has no plot whatsoever and if my grandma were still alive I’d certainly get an earful for it buuuuuuut I thought you guys might enjoy.

Word count: 4.6k (go off)

Warnings: ALL the warnings, this is literal filth like I’m talking about unprotected sex, choking, size kink kinda, sex toys and overstimulation in a way that takes doing the dirty literal (not even gonna mention the language at this point) - obviously nsfw below the cut

- Have fun ya filthy animals (and wrap it before you tap it!) -

His hand on your back was slowly but surely becoming unbearable.

You wanted to curse the idiot that had the absolutely genius idea of having a team event the night of the boys’ return from a long trip in a way that would make every single sailor on this planet blush worse than anything your Orgasm blush from NARS could ever achieve. And you loved that blush to death.

But instead of taking your beautiful and amazing boyfriend straight to bed like you had wanted to since the day he’d left – which was 10 long days ago by the way – you had to put on a full face and bear mingling with the executives all night. More than one time you’d thought of somewhat inconspicuous ways to sneak off with your boyfriend so you could have your way with him but to your dismay nothing had worked out.

From the looks of it Mikko wasn’t doing any better. More than one time his hand had rested a bit lower on your back than what could possibly be considered acceptable in public. The back of your dress, or rather the lack thereof, had allowed him to feel you up in a way that had gotten you from 0 to 100 real quick.

Usually you weren’t one to get riled up quite like that by the simple action of his palm right above your ass but something had been in the air tonight. Perhaps it was because you hadn’t gotten to trail your hands over his glorious naked skin in way too long but something about the way his hand spanned the entire width of your lower back had you mentally panting at the mere memory of the way it had felt.

It didn’t exactly help that Mikko had stepped into the location looking like an absolute snack. All 6’4” of him were wrapped in your favorite suit and the smile that had lit up his face as soon as he had spotted you with some of the other wives and girlfriends had lit the room in a way that no chandelier could.

He’d worn the tie you’d tied for him before the trip because he still refused to do it himself even though you’d long taught him and it brought a smile to your lips that rivaled his own. Because you were in a public place there wasn’t a heated make out session to welcome him back but the way he had hugged you close after a short but sweet kiss with your face nestled against his chest in a way that wouldn’t ruin the look you had carefully curated for the night was no less affectionate.

The next hours had been nothing short of torture, you could see it on everyone’s faces. While the guys (and girls for that matter) usually didn’t mind the mingling and networking that was the norm for such events it was more than obvious that tonight no one was in the mood for it. Everyone just wanted to celebrate the successful road trip that had just come to an end, preferably in a bedroom if one were to ask you.

By the time it was finally acceptable to make an exit Mikko had practically dragged you towards the car, barely taking his time to ask where you’d even parked it. He had to slow down eventually though because you were no match to his incredibly long stride in your heels.

You’d gotten lots of smug looks on your way out – Josty, Burky and JT even going as far as to cat call the two of you in front of everyone – but you knew that it was only out of envy. Gabe had only barely managed to not say anything and that was only because Mel and him were antsy to get out of there themselves.

Sitting in the passenger seat gave you the freedom to let your thoughts wander to what was about to come, making you shudder in anticipation. Mikko noticed, of course, and his right hand immediately inched up from its usual place on your mid-thigh to the very top. You were convinced that if your dress would allow it you’d already have him where you needed him the most but unfortunately you’d only thought of the way it made your body look and not how practical it would be.

His white-knuckled tight grip on the steering wheel revealed that he himself was already further along in the timeline of the night in his mind and in the dim lighting from the interior and the passing city lights you could definitely see that he was already beginning to strain against his pants. For a minute you contemplated asking him to pull over and to just have his way with you right here in the car, it definitely wouldn’t be the first time, but you wanted to savor this night and not rush it.

Besides, no matter how big Mikko’s car was, there was just no way to actually do it in here comfortably, backseat included.

So you waited, rather less than more patient, and endured what would arguably be the most charged minutes of your life so far.

The second Mikko pulled into the designated parking spot of your shared apartment the both of you couldn’t make it to your door fast enough. In a mad dash you practically ran to the elevator and since it basically was the middle of the night neither of you gave a shit that there might actually be someone else in this building that could set a foot in the elevator. Thankfully no one did but the two of you still put on quite a show.

Mikko had you pressed against a wall, one leg pushed in between yours and hands gripping your face tightly as he practically devoured you right there in the tiny metal box. You were moaning already, so needy and touch-starved from the past few days and the racked up anticipation from the past few hours. Your hands had already managed to loosen his tie and to push his jacket off his shoulders by the time the little bell announced that you had reached your floor.

It was times like this that made you incredibly thankful for modern technology because instead of fumbling around with a key, something that would have definitely taken an amount of tries in the double digits between the two of you in your current state, you only had to hold up your key card to the scanner before the door opened and you were finally home.

Mikko had left his bags in the car, something you were grateful for right now because it allowed you to continue where you left off earlier without a hassle but you would definitely regret as soon as you had to wash his sweaty gym clothes after the delay. He didn’t even let you get a step into your apartment before pushing you up against the back of your front door while somehow kicking off his shoes at the same time.

“I’ve missed you so much, you have no idea”, he practically growled against your skin as he dropped his head to suck along your neck while simultaneously sneaking one hand around your body to find the zipper of your dress.

“Oh yeah? Ho much exactly?”, you teased back but the light tone you had intended to use was lost because of the way his lips made you whimper. He grabbed your right hand with his free one and shoved it down towards his crotch where the outline of him now fully erect was threatening to rip the seam of his pants.

“This much. Feel how hard you make me babe.”

And feel you did.

He groaned as you made contact, slowly running your nails over the fabric the way you knew drove him absolutely wild. Unfortunately you couldn’t keep doing that forever, otherwise you’d get nowhere tonight because you needed both hands to unbutton his shirt. He had located your zipper by now as well and was hurriedly pushing it down, only stepping back far enough to access it before crowding you back against the wood as he pulled the fabric down.

You stepped out of your dress, careful for it to not get caught up in your heels and immediately Mikko took the chance to explore every inch of newly exposed skin with his hands. You couldn’t let him have all the fun though because you had finally – finally – unbuttoned his shirt all the way. The city lights streaming in through the window made any additional lighting unnecessary as you took in the beautiful body of your boyfriend.

The Sistine Chapel had nothing on him and his body belonged right up there with ‘The Starry Night’ and ‘The Kiss’, every inch of creamy skin just as beautiful as anything a master of the arts could possibly create. You could get lost in his broad shoulders, and you often did, but seeing him tonight after so much time apart was truly something special.

“If you don’t do anything but stare at me real fast I’m going to spank you woman”, his voice was low and his tone revealed that he was only somewhat serious but nevertheless you took a step closer until your bodies touched again. Even with heels on he was still so much taller than you so you had to stand on your very tippy toes and pull him down towards you at the same time so you could whisper in his ear:

“We both know that I wouldn’t object to that, it wouldn’t be the first time after all.”

His groan was music to your ears and you squealed as he swiftly picked you up like you weighed nothing and wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom. You were closer to eye level like this and Mikko’s mouth immediately found yours as he held you close, his strong arms never once making you doubt his ability to manhandle you without incident. He would rather thro himself on the floor to cushion your fall than drop you.

Only a close to unhealthy amount of practice in this particular aspect of foreplay made your journey to the bedroom safe. The first few times had definitely resulted in a few bumps and bruises but neither you had cared at the time, too distracted with everything else going on.

What no one might suspect was the fact that your usually uncoordinated and constantly-stumbling boyfriend was anything but in all things bedroom. He had a kind of control over his body that most men could only dream of and to say you were excited to get to experience it again first-hand tonight was probably the understatement of the century.

With an air of expertise that made you think he was paid to do this instead of chasing a puck across ice he flicked on the one lamp you liked to turn on during sex because of the warm glow it created without even breaking the kiss. He was still wearing his pants and on the way here they had created some delicious friction but now he was sitting down on the edge of the bed with you still perched on his lap.

His hands had taken a hold of your ass and he was helping you to slowly grind against him, the both of you so far gone already by now.

“Did you think of me while I was gone?” While his question might sound sweet to the unknowing ear, you knew what he was playing at.

“Yes Mik, multiple times. I really tried but nothing feels as good as when you’re with me.” He knew this already because he’d gotten his fair share of pictures but you were more than happy to provide an answer.

“Oh yeah? Did you touch yourself thinking about the time we did it in the kitchen right before I left?” Even if it weren’t for his hands slowly outlining your lacy bra and barely grazing your nipples you couldn’t prevent the moan that escaped your lips at his words.

You had – in fact – thought about the way he’d taken you on the kitchen counter that faithful morning and the images that now flooded your thoughts again had you literally dripping. Mikko could feel it too, the way you were drenching his pants and underwear right now and while it was annoying that you had to take yet another suit to the dry cleaners to get rid of the stain his strangled moan was everything.

Then it was a frantic dash to rid him of his clothes as soon as possible as you both got up and you pulled down his slacks and boxers in one swoop, discarding both in some corner already forgotten.

You literally sighed at the sight of him now in his full naked glory before you, every inch of his muscular build exposed. It didn’t matter how many times you’d touched, sucked or felt his dick already, there was still always this moment of ‘oh my god’ whenever he dropped his pants. It made sense actually, Mikko was a huge guy so it shouldn’t really be a surprise that his dick was proportionate to his body but to see it in real life was something else entirely. To see it bouncing against his abdomen had your thoughts running a mile a minute and now you were more than impatient to feel full again.

It was as if he felt your anticipation but wanted to be a little shit about it because he now took his time in undressing you, dropping your bra straps at a pace that would have made a snail proud. It was sensual, of course, but you really needed him to hurry up right this second. You didn’t even know where he had suddenly found all of this self-control but you cursed whichever brain cells of his that were responsible for your misery.

An ice-age later he had finally rid you of the scrappy piece of fabric, eagerly exploring your boobs as if he hadn’t seen them over a hundred times already. He pushed you back onto the bed so you were spread out before him but when he moved to take your panties off at the same pace you finally drew the line.

“Mikko please, I just really really need you inside me. Like right now.”

He must have seen the desperation in your eyes because he finally let up, pulling your panties down at an acceptable speed and moving to hover over you. You thought you’d finally get your long-time wish but then he pulled back.

“Actually, can we try something?”, he asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Babe we can try anything you want right now as long as it means that I’ve got your dick inside of me within the next ten seconds.”

You almost thought he’d waste some of his precious given time with making a dirty joke like you knew he wanted to but instead he just moved towards your nightstand. Since you’d ditched condoms in favor of birth control a while ago and you were so dripping wet that you could probably cure the Californian drought so there really was no need for lube right now you knew there was nothing of value in those drawers, or so you thought. The same gleam was still in Mikko’s eyes when he turned back around to face you and you instantly recognized the item in his hand.

“I’ve thought about incorporating this ever since you sent me that one picture at the beginning of the trip. Needless to say I’ve had a couple of rough days behind me.”

Excitement bubbled up inside you and now the look in your eyes matched his. Mikko wasn’t one of those guys that got intimidated by sex toys and he’d even tried some of yours on you but you’d never actually used one during sex.

“I think I came up with a way how to best do this”, he mumbled as he stepped closer to you and you motioned for him to go ahead so he could show you the ropes. To your surprise he settled against the headboard of your bed, legs spread out in front of him. So far you weren’t really sure what his plan was exactly. He motioned for you to come closer and you obliged but as you moved to straddle his lap like you often did he stopped you.

“No babe, the other way.” His hands gently guided your hips and helped you straddle his thighs with your back facing his chest and your knees on either side of him. You moved to stroke him while the other hand dropped to fondle his balls but he quickly caught your wrists in his hands, effectively ceasing all movement. “Don’t please, I already won’t be able to last as long as I want to.”

With one swift movement Mikko lifted your hips off his thighs and moved you so you could align yourself and then he was finally inside you. Sinking down on him was already a feat in itself but with the change of position you could feel him reaching places that made your mind go blank. The both of you simultaneously groaned once he finally bottomed out and you took a couple of seconds to adjust to him filling you up like this.

Once his grip on your hips grew even tighter you knew you had to move or else your boyfriend would lose every ounce of self-control that was still left at this point. He gently guided you along as you slowly rotated your hips, the both of you moaning already. He took his time covering your neck and shoulders in kisses and every few seconds you could feel his teeth grazing your skin when he had to stop himself from just pounding up into you while you were still finding your groove.

“Look up babe, I want you to watch yourself”, he murmured in your ear and you slowly raised your head to meet his eyes in the mirror that was strategically placed across your bedroom. It had done you many good deeds already but tonight it was on a whole other level. This position was becoming one of your fast favorites already but to be able to watch Mikko lose himself in you was what would make this night so very memorable.

You watched his right hand pat around on the comforter before finding what he had been looking for, the silver vibe. The anticipation made you clench around him and he groaned and you wondered what it would be like once you both finally got to experience the real deal but thankfully you didn’t have to wait much longer until you’d find out.

Mikko kept the slow grinding pace that allowed him to go so incredibly deep as he switched on the vibe, it’s soft vibrations filling the room with a different kind of noise. He slowly raised it to your chest, first teasing one and then the other nipple with it while you couldn’t help the moans tumbling out of your mouth. Once he deemed the amount of attention your breasts had gotten enough for now he tapped the vibe against your lips. “Suck”, was his only command and obediently you opened your lips to wet the toy.

You tracked his movements in the mirror as he slowly dropped his hand towards where you needed it. The moment the vibe connected to your clit was honestly life changing. You immediately arched your back, trying to get more of that amazing feeling between your legs.

Mikkos left hand immediately shot up and wrapped itself around your neck, his long fingers engulfing it almost completely and effectively holding you still as he moved the vibe away.

“Oh God, Mikko more, please give me more”, you practically sobbed, begging him to continue.

“Shhh babe”, he soothed you before scooting the both of you away from the headboard a little. Then he leaned back again, his hand on your throat giving you no choice but to follow him so you were both now leaned back at an angle. With wild eyes you watched him move the vibe closer again and he obliged, placing the vibe back onto your clit while never once faltering in the agonizing but amazing pace at which he was grinding into you.

The change in angle had him grinding against your g spot and now your orgasm was coming at you with lightning speed. Mikko could tell so like the good boyfriend he was he kept doing the exact same thing while you tried to mentally prepare for the absolute tsunami that was about to crash over you.

With one last thrust from him the wave finally crested and your mind literally went blank as you thrashed in his lap, only his hand stopping you from entering a whole other dimension. It felt as if the high would never end and with the vibe still buzzing against your most sensitive part and Mikko keeping up his pace you had only barely come down when your second orgasm hit, detonating like a bomb yet again.

Mikko was moaning loudly below you, trying his best not to blow his load as your walls spasmed around him for the second time and almost failing but somehow pulling through. You had drenched his entire lap and he could feel the slow trickle of your juices down the sides of his thighs, not that he minded.

After two close orgasms like this you needed a second to regroup so you weakly pushed his hand with the vibrator away, the sensation too much now. All energy had left your body and you were a ragdoll in his lap, panting like you’d just crossed the finish line at a marathon.

“Holy fuck Y/N, that was… just wow. Do you want me to take over?”, he asked, knowing full well that you weren’t able to stay on top like this right now. You couldn’t even form any coherent sentences right now if you tried so you only nodded, allowing him to lift you off of him and set you on the mattress so only your ass was in the air.

“You look so good like this, I think about you every second when I’m gone. You’re always on my mind.”

You reached back and Mikko knew exactly what you needed, lacing your hands with his own and dropping them next to you before carefully entering you again. The first few times he’d been worried to continue after you were in your blissful post-orgasm state but you’d explained him many times that you liked being at his complete mercy like this, for him to basically use you in whichever way he wanted to.

So when he bottomed out in you once again you only led out a blissful sigh, happy to have him so close to you. He moved slow but calculated, hitting deep every time before pulling out all the way only to enter him once again. He kept this pace for a while, giving you enough time to pull yourself together a little after the mind-blowing ordeal you had just been through.

“You think you got one more in you?”, he asked, voice definitely strained from keeping this antagonizing pace for so long.

“Let’s find out.” He let go of one hand to reach for the vibe again, setting it on a lower setting than it had been before so you could ease back into it.

“Can you hold it yourself babe?” He dropped it into your hand then, moving to settle both of his hands on your hips. You shifted a little until you found a comfortable position where you could reach down and let out a content groan as soon as you felt the vibrations again. You’d thought that you would be too spent for this by now but to your surprise you were actually holding up pretty well, an orgasm just below the horizon.

Mikko slammed into you then, pulling out a little before bottoming out again on the next thrust, both of your moans far louder than the little vibrator in your hand. You arched your back as he kept up his almost brutal pace, his hands tightening with every thrust and you were sure he’d leave bruises yet again but you certainly didn’t mind with the amount of pleasure he was currently giving you.

It didn’t take long until the combination of his powerful thrusts and the vibrations on your clit had you teetering towards the edge yet again.

“Mikko I’m so close”, you panted, slightly worried that he wouldn’t hear you over the sound of everything happening right now.

“No. Not yet. Hold it back and wait for me, I want to feel you pulse around me.”

His demand was clear and yet you let out a frustrated whine because your orgasm was right there and you honestly didn’t know how much longer you could stop it from approaching.

The stutter in his thrusts gave you hope because it meant that he wasn’t far behind you either so you turned your head so you could watch him in the mirror. His bottom lip was pulled in between his teeth and his brows were slightly knit as he chased his orgasm in desperation, every muscle in his body flexed tightly.

“Fuck baby cum for me now”, he rasped out and you finally let yourself fall over the edge, loud moans tumbling out of your mouth as he thrust inside you one, two, three more times before burying himself inside you and throwing his head back in pleasure with a guttural groan. His jaw went slack as he stilled inside you, filling you up with his cum and only heightening the sensations of your own orgasm. It was as if someone had exchanged your blood for gasoline, heat racing through your entire body and leaving everything heightened and trembling.

Your legs gave out from under you and Mikko followed you down onto the mattress but careful not to crush you with his weight. For a few moments you just lay there, the both of you basking in what had just happened. You let out a content hum as he reached up to brush your hair out of your face, his soft touch in such stark contrast to his bruising grip only seconds ago.

But that was the thing about your boyfriend, he might go crazy in the bedroom sometimes – which you obviously loved – but he was still the gentle giant you had fallen in love with all those months ago. And you’d endure all the height difference jokes in the world if it meant that he would stay with you forever.

Your sweet and mushy thoughts were slowly but surely interrupted by a buzz and both Mikko and you turned towards the source of the noise, him still deep inside you but slowly softening. He picked up the small vibe that you must have carelessly discarded at some point during your orgasm and switched it off. Carefully he pulled out of you and you already missed the feeling but took his outstretched hand to help you stand nevertheless.

Mikko raised the now turned off toy towards his face before saying:

“You have been a trusty friend and we’ll definitely use you again but first this beautiful young lady and I have to shower. I hope that’s okay for you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way he was actually having a conversation with a sex toy because it was so typical of him. And you wouldn’t have him, or this, any other way.

AN Part 2: I 10/10 recommend trying all of the above ;)

#i am actually kinda proud of that #wrote it all in one swoop #so it's unedited i'm sorry #but i hope you still like it #mikko rantanen #mikko rantanen smut #nhl smut #hockey smut #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey writing #my writing #colorado avalanche #mikko rantanen x reader

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joonsrack · 3 years

Text

Good boy | KNJ drabble

+Pairing: Namjoon x Reader(gender neutral)

+Rating: 18+

+WC: 1.5k

+Warning: NSFW, Sub!Joon, Dom!reader, Gender neutral reader, unresolved sexual tension, sex toys, unfinished, like it cuts off pretty abruptly.

+A/N: I found this in my google docs and i knew that if i didn’t post it right now i never would. So here it is. I might reuse it in a fic someday. Sorry for the abrupt cut :P unbetaed so don’t look too hard pls thank you.

also this is the title past me gave the doc which made present me lol

You’re both laughing and giggling as you go up to Namjoon’s dorm room, trying not to trip on your feet as you run up the stairs, taking them two by two. The A/C is quickly becoming a problem, your skin breaking out in goosebumps as the wet clothes you’re both wearing go from being wet, to uncomfortably wet and cold.

The car wash had been a success, raising enough funds for your team project in a single afternoon, and then it’d seemed like a good idea to celebrate by drenching everyone with the water hose. The lack of towel had quickly made itself noticeable, forcing everyone to disperse and find a way to dry themselves off. For you and Namjoon, it was pretty clear your destination would be his dorm room. It was closer than yours, and Namjoon has a nice collection of plush and soft towels, courtesy of his mom.

You’re almost sad when you make it to the door, disappointed that you’ll lose the sight of Namjoon’s clothes completely plastered to his body, leaving not one inch to the imagination. He has an impressive body, one that’s been making heads turn for the last few months, ever since he started working out with Jungkook. You’d love his body whatever shape it may be, but the definition he has gained in his chest, and arms, and especially his thighs, is definitely a sight to behold. The way the muscles work as he walks, runs, squats, or kneels… You’ve found yourself staring at them more and more these days. And the short shorts he has on right now, stopping at his mid-thighs, letting just a hint of his thigh tattoo peek out, it’s definitely not leaving you indifferent.

The moment you step into the dorm, you hang back behind to watch him undress, a familiar sensation tickling up your spin at the sight of your lover taking off his shirt, leaving him clad in his godforsaken shorts and glistening sun-kissed skin. Just as he digs his thumbs in his waistband, you snap out of the trance you were falling into.

“Stop.” You say simply, catching his attention and halting his undressing process.

You have nowhere to be in the immediate moment, no one waiting for you, nothing pressing to finish or study for. You’ve spent all afternoon being teased by the sight of your sub parading around with his amazing body basically on display, looking worthy of being in a pin-up magazine with his wet white t-shirt and his terrible, terribly short red shorts.

He recognizes the look in your eyes, wetting his lips with a quick drag his tongue as the air in the room turns heavier, warming up.

He shifts his body towards you, be it consciously or unconsciously, and you take yet another moment to admire his amazing physic, wondering who you saved in your past life to have a boyfriend like Namjoon, who likes to let you tie him up and wreck him just right.

“How do you want me?” He asks, voice going slightly lower than usual as arousal probably grows in the pit of his stomach.

He’s so beautiful, so responsive to your will, so perfect in every way. You want to kiss every inch of his gorgeous face, bite every bit of his lips, and leave traces all over his body. You want to mark up his chest and strong hips and thighs and calves and ankles. You want to hear him whine and moan, you want to make him whine and moan.

“Get on the bed.” You answer simply, taking your sweet time to walk to his dresser, eyes never leaving him as he complies with your demand. You enjoy the sight of his muscles bulging as he positions himself in the middle of the bed, sitting on his heels with his hands on his thighs, waiting for more orders like the good boy he is. His shorts are still soaked, but he doesn’t seem to mind that they’ll dampen his sheets; they probably won’t be dry after you’re done with him anyway, wet shorts or not. Your playtimes tend to get messy.

You get what you need from the second drawer, hidden in the back behind his graphic tee, where he keeps his stash of goodies. There’s everything you need for improvised scenes in there, but for the more complicated stuff, scenes that demand a level of preparation, you usually go to yours. Living out of campus has its perks, like decently thick walls that won’t expose your activity to the whole building.

“Are you going to need help to keep quiet?” You ask as an afterthought, eyeing the little gold satin bag containing his favorite ballgag. “You have to keep quiet or else your neighbor will glare at me, again.”

This seems to confuse Namjoon for a second, head tilting as if trying to answer a math problem. “Jimin? I don’t know why he would do that, it’s not like we’re the only one fucking here.”

You decide against it, a part of you loving how mad it drives your boyfriend’s neighbor to hear you pleasure Namjoon. In some twisted way, it’s like you’re letting him know how good you’re taking care of him, and how nonexistent his chances are at seducing your boyfriend.

“Oh baby, he’s not bothered by the noise, he’s jealous he’s not the one pulling them out of you.” You purr, closing the drawer with an elbow.

You feel a rebuttal coming, and you quickly drop the content of your hands on the mattress to push a finger against Namjoon’s plush lips, silencing his doubts.

“You might not have noticed, but I see the way he looks at you, and it’s definitely not in a friendly manner.” You shush him, possessiveness bubbling in your stomach.

There’s a fine blush appearing on Namjoon’s cheeks, which makes you want to coo. But you can’t wait to extend this flush all over his body, so you don’t waste any more time.

“Lay on your back, hands by your head, leg spread.” You order, moving away to leave him the space he needs to assume his new position. He executes quickly, his eagerness making you bite back a smile, and you take a moment to admire his long body laid out in front of you, twitching and begging to be touched. Namjoon trusts you to take care of him, and you always make sure to leave him satisfied.

“What’s your safe word, baby boy?” You inquire, voice soft but commanding in the rising tension of the room.

“Crab.” He states, his beautiful eyes meeting yours, twinkling with anticipation. You can see the rise and fall of his chest has gotten quicker, a tent in his shorts already noticeable. He’s probably the most responsive sub you’ve ever met (in your admittedly very short career, but still), always ready to go at a moment’s notice. Once he told you it was because of you, that he had never had this kind of response to anyone else before. You remember making him come many times that night, as a treat.

You start by leaning over him, sealing your lips to his in a tender kiss to which he responds with a low whine, frustrated by the torturous pace you set. You take your fill of his lips, sucking and biting, earning yourself all sort of cute noises.

“Your hands stay exactly where they are, understood?” You say as you break the kiss, grinning at the way he chases after you. You press him back down with one hand to his chest, a chastising look in your eyes.

“Yes.” He nods eagerly, relaxing his body to lay perfectly still.

You reward him by pressing a kiss to his jaw, then following the line of his neck to his gorgeous collarbone. You gently dig in your teeth in the taut skin, not hard enough to leave a mark yet, just enough for Namjoon to feel it. You hear a sharp intake of air, and you soothe the skin with your tongue, enjoying the slightly salty tang from a day spent working in the sun.

You carry on with your ministration, trailing down his torso until you get to a nipple, the peak hardened and looking biteable. You waste no second diving in, kissing and teasing with your teeth the darker skin, swirling your tongue around the peak, pulling from Namjoon some delicious moans. He loves having his nipple played with, always gets whiny from the attention.

You reach for the first toy; a set of fancy nipple clamps.

You secure the first clamp on the one you just spent a good minute abusing, then you pinch the second one, getting it nice and puffy. You can see how tense Namjoon is, straining to stay still, how his back wants to arch off the bed;

But he doesn’t, because he’s a good boy.

#im sorry about this #sub joon #bts drabble #sub joon rights #bts fic #drabble #namjoon fic #houseofddaeng #bangtanarmynet #bangtanidx

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davidmann95 · 3 years

Note

now that it's over, thoughts on Bendis' Superman as a whole?

pretenderoftheeast said: So, thoughts on Bendis' Superman and Action Comics' tenure altogether and separately now that it's over?

Anonymous said: Best and Worst things about Bendis' Superman run

Anonymous said: Now that it is over, what are your thoughts on Bendis' runs on Superman and Action Comics as a whole?

Anonymous said: Retrospective thoughts on Bendis' Superman as a whole now that it's, I guess, done?

Anonymous said: Hey so since Bendis’ Superman stuff seems to be done, what did you think of the run as a whole?

I decided to hold off a bit on writing on this one, if only so that I could reread the Action Comics side of it since Superman stood out in my memory a lot more. But now I have, and as we’re heading into a bold new era of Superman (and it’s coming in fast - just since I made my Superman in 2021 predictions we’ve gotten Ed Pinsent finally reprinting his legendary bootleg Silver Age Superman, Steve Orlando announcing his Superman analogue book Project Patron, an official shonen Superman redesign for RWBY/Justice League, PKJ’s Super-debut turning out far better than I ever expected, Superman & Lois’s first proper trailer largely taking people pleasantly by surprise, and my learning that there’s a Sylvester Stallone Old Man Superman analogue movie titled Samaritan coming out this summer) we’re ready to take a look back with at least a touch of perspective. I’ll lead with complaints, so everybody who’s been waiting for me to say that Bendis on Superman was Bad, Actually, savor this because it’s as close as you’ll get.

The Bad

* I hate to say it, but rereading that side of the run there’s no two ways about it: the structure of Action Comics as a whole is a mess. It baffled me from day one that it was the more acclaimed of the two books for so long - I guess people are hardwired at this point to think of ‘street’ stuff as where Bendis is supposed to be - because it was immediately clear that Superman had a well-defined story he wanted to tell, while Action was the usual Bendis off-the-cuff improvisation. It’s barely even a story in the same way, and it’s certainly not the ‘Metropolis crime book’ people took it as: it’s 28 issues of Superman and his supporting cast stuffed a pinball machine with the Red Cloud pinging off of each other as we wait to see who falls in the hole at the bottom, and partway through Leviathan and the Legion of Doom and 90s Superboy are tossed into the mix to keep it going a little longer. On an issue-to-issue basis it’s frequently really good, but the core plot of the book is *maybe* six issues stretched out over two and a half years.

* I’ve gone into this some before, but structure-wise Unity Saga also has problems: Phantom Planet rules but either it needed to be cut or the back half needed to be a year all its own in order to accommodate the scale of what it’s attempting. It’s got an interstellar civil war leading into the formation of the United Planets, family drama, Rogol Zaar’s whole deal, and Jon’s coming of age, and I’d say only that last one is really properly served. Even Jon forming the United Planets, while contextually somewhat justified in terms of 1. The situation being so far gone he’s the only one who’d even think in those terms, 2. Things being bad enough that these assorted galactic powers would be willing to try it, and 3. Him having the S on his chest to sell it, isn’t at all built up to within the run itself.

* Rogol Zaar sucks. He’s made up of nothing but interesting ideas - he’s an ersatz warrior ‘superman’ of a bygone age of empires up against the new model, he’s the sins of Krypton as a conservative superpower come home to roost, he’s while not outright said to be definitely Superman’s tragic half-brother and the culmination of everything this run does with Jor-El - but none of them manifest on the page, he’s just a big punchy dude with a dumb design who screams about how you should take him seriously because he’s totally the one who blew up Krypton. Even a killer redesign by Ryan Sook for Legion of Superheroes can’t fix that. There are lots of bad villains with good ideas who are redeemed with time and further effort, but I can’t imagine Zaar getting that TLC to become a fraction of whatever Bendis envisioned him as.

* The second year of Action Comics, after establishing itself in its first as one of the most consistently gorgeous books on the stands, leads with Szymon Kudranski’s weak output and then concludes with John Romita Jr. turning in some career-worst work. The latter is particularly egregious because for that first year Bendis writes a really collected, gentle Superman so him getting pushed into being more aggressive should have an impact, but Romita draws such a craggy rough-looking Superman in the first place that it mutes any sort of shock value.

* WE NEVER LEARN WHAT’S UP WITH LEONE’S CAR, WHAT THE HELL. You don’t just DROP THAT IN THERE and then NEVER FOLLOW UP.

The Good

* Superman got his real clothes back after 7 truly ridiculous years.

* Bendis fundamentally gets Clark’s voice in a way unlike almost any other writer - even all-around better writers of the character almost never approach how spot-on he is with having Superman speak and act exactly how Superman should.

* Supporting cast front and center! He writes a dynamite Lois, Perry, and Jimmy (even if many of Lois’s more out-there decisions in the run don’t end up retroactively justified the way you’d hope), Ma and Pa are more fun than they’ve been in decades in their brief appearances, he manages to turn having Jor-El in the mix into a positive, and the Daily Planet as a whole has an incredibly distinctive vibe to it like never before that I hope is taken as a baseline going forward.

* The non-Rogol Zaar baddies? All ruled. Invisible Mafia and Red Cloud are both brilliant ideas executed solidly if overextended. Zod as Kryptonian Vegeta, Mongul as a generational perpetual bastard engine primed to be incapable of self-reflection, and Ultraman as “what if Irredeemable but he’d never been a good guy and also he was a Jersey mobster” are the best versions of those characters by numberless light-eons. Lex is on-point in his sparse appearances. Xanadoth as a mystical cosmic monster older than time who still talks like a Bendis character is however unintentionally a hoot. The alt-universe Parasite is a more intimidating Doomsday than Doomsday ever was. And Synmar as an alien culture’s attempt at creating their own Superman and messing up the formula when they make him a soldier can and should be a legitimate major ongoing villain coming out of this run.

* Pretty much all the art other than what I mentioned already. Fabok does a good job bookending The Man of Steel and Ivan Reis does the work of his career anchoring Superman (special props to Reis as well for drawing the first ever non-Steve Rude interesting-looking take on Metropolis), and meanwhile you’ve got Jim Lee, Jose Luis Garcia Lopez, Doc Shaner, Steve Rude, Kevin Maguire, Adam Hughes, Patrick Gleason, Yanick Paquette, Ryan Sook, Brandon Peterson, and David Lafuente doing their own parts.

* Closely related to the art, all the little flourishes with the powers. Super-speed having a consistent visual with the background coloring changing, Clark internally putting numbers to the degrees of force behind his punches and what situations which numbers are appropriate for, ‘skidding to a halt’ mid-flight before crashing through a window, the shonen-ass major throwdowns as portrayed by Reis, how his super-hearing is handled as a prevalent element. Lots of clever bits that added flavor to what he does.

* While Unity Saga has problems, the whole of what Bendis does in Superman as a means of forward momentum for Clark and his world is excellent. The sort of three-act structure of:

** Clark is led to question his place in things over the course of a few adventures

** Involvement in the larger cosmos and the impact it has had through and on his family makes him realize the answer to his questions is that he needs to step up in a bigger way because there’s no benevolent larger universe to welcome Earth with open arms, nor a cosmic precedent for everything turning out for the best without some help

** As a consequence of the lessons learned by this change in the status quo Clark is inspired to make his own personal change in revealing his identity (with Mythological basically being an epilogue showcasing a ‘standard’ standalone Superman adventure while simultaneously highlighting his new status quo and how it fits in as a summing-up of Bendis’s take)

…does a great job of shepherding through ideas that lend a lot of forward momentum to Superman of the kind he hasn’t seen in a long time. Not perfect, but far lesser stories with far lesser ambitions have made huge impacts, so I’d certainly hope at least some of this sticks around even if, say, regardless of any retcons to the main line there are always going to be stories with Clark as a disguise and Jon as a kid. Oh, speaking of whom,

* KISS MY ASS, EVERYTHING WITH JON KENT RULED

Ahem. Probably a less confrontational way of putting that.

Do I think there was more gas in the tank for Jon as a kid? Totally, making him likeable and viable was the one really good thing the Rebirth era accomplished for Superman and I expect we’ll continue seeing more of it in the future one way or another. But whether or not him being aged up was Bendis’s decision, or working with marching orders to set up the eventually-(kinda-)discarded 5G, the coming of age narrative here is fire. He keeps the essential Clark Kent kindness and bit of Lois Lane cheekiness that reminds you he’s still their kid, which is a combination Bendis is basically precision-crafted to write, but his trials by fire give him a background entirely unlike the by-the-numbers “and here’s how Superman’s great kid grew up to be a great superhero too” narrative you’d expect while still arriving at that endpoint. If superheroes live and die by metaphors then Jon in here is what it means to grow up written as large as possible: leaving home for the first time (and seeming to shoot up overnight!), getting into the muck of how the real world works, being beaten down by authority wearing faces you’ve been taught to trust, scrambling to get through with the whole world against you, and in the end getting through by learning to rely on your own strength while keeping your soul intact and your head held high, and even managing to speak some truth to power. It gives him a well-defined life story with room to go back to and explore the intricacies of each leg of for decades to come in a way Superman hasn’t had since the original Crisis - someone someday is going to write a The Life & Times Of The Son Of Superman miniseries and it’s going to be one of the greats - and negates any question that he’s earned his stature as the heir apparent.

* Coming out of this, Superman’s world is fascinating. He’s out but rather than giving up his day-to-day life he’s openly spending part of his life as CLARK KENT: SUPER-REPORTER and part of his job on the cape-and-tights side of things is now KAL-EL: SUPER-SPACE-DIPLOMAT, Lois Lane coruns a foundation helping people whose personal continuities have been fucked over by Crisis shenanigans, Jimmy Olsen owns the Daily Planet but is still doing Jimmy Olsen stuff because that’s how he gets his kicks, and Jon Kent is going to college in the future. I’m not anywhere near naïve enough to think that’s how things are going to be forever, or shortsighted enough to think there’s no value left in the traditional setups, but god I hope these developments stick around for a long, long time to come and potentially become the new ‘normal’ as far as the ongoing shared universe stuff goes, because it all feels like the right and promising next steps to take for the lives of these characters. However it got here, for all the pluses and minuses along the way even if I maintain the former very much outweighed the latter as a reading experience, Bendis has a lot to be proud of if that’s the legacy he leaves on these titles.

* The recap pages at the desks!

#Superman #Brian Bendis #Jon Kent #Opinion

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kaibacorpintern · 4 years

Note

hi i forgot the ship name but would u write something thats seto and ryou? (platonic or romantic) where they play a ttrpg together or somethin idk

“or somethin idk” give me an inch, i have run a mile. a mile of 4.7k words.

platonic euroshipping. post-canon. ryou applies for a game writer position at kaibacorp and makes it to the final stage. contains: dragons, swords, some very sexy things about solidvision and the virtual world, kaiba covered in blood and having a great time, me the writer having a great time, hopefully you the reader having a great time, and ryou, not covered in blood, having a very, very, very anxious time

tw for some fantasy violence

++++++

Ryou inhaled, taking a deep breath of: the fresh, sweet smell of grass, the coolness of river water, something dry and grey in the wind, slightly rotten - smoke? And sulfur. The grasses were filled with the restless susurrus of the wind, each blade quivering with anticipation. Above him, a hawk tilted in lazy, wide circles, tracking the hidden paths of its prey. He stood on a dusty path halfway up the long slope of a steep hillside, the farmlands of the valley behind him peeled back to reveal the burned, blackened devastation beneath. The village from this distance looked like the charcoal remains of a bonfire, the air still shimmering with heat.

The sun itself was hot, making him sweat in the thick, coarse silk of his mage’s robe, every purple thread saturated with light and heat. Mopping sweat from his brow, Ryou opened his options menu, the holographic display falling open, in the guise of an illuminated manuscript, and hovering at waist-height in thin air, perfectly tilted for reading. The parchment was old and yellowed, almost velvet to the touch, the edges frayed with age, and he couldn’t resist the urge to smell it, leaning in cautiously to take an experimental whiff. Strong notes of dust, old ink, age; an undertone of knowledge, of the forbidden kind.

He selected Player Appearance and the page turned, with weight and heft, to reveal another. Kaiba didn’t miss a beat. Ryou had no doubt if he knelt down to drink from the stream that flowed down the slope, folding in clear ribbons past the rocks, the water would run cold over his fingers until they pruned. And the magic effects?

He swallowed. It was not just the sun that was making him sweat.

He’d just changed into something more practical - a short-sleeved green tunic, a pair of white breeches, leather boots that had just a bit of bite to the fit, like the player had to wear them in - when a chime pealed out from six feet away, as though someone had rung an invisible bell. The air tore apart, in odd, geometric anguish, like a broken mirror twisting into itself -

and there was Kaiba, standing in the knee-high grass in his customary black turtleneck and tight pants, frowning with his arms crossed.

“Hello,” Ryou said. “It’s so nice to see you again. Your technology is... this is amazing. The attention to detail is incredible. The player screen, with the parchment - it even smells like - ”

“What is this? Medieval?” Kaiba said, glancing around at his clothes, the distant village, taking no notice of his praise; Ryou bit his tongue in self-rebuke. As if buttering him up with compliments was going to help.

“Western Europe. From the mid-11th century to the 12th. The age of knights and chivalry,” he said, deciding that maybe his best strategy was to simply be straightforward.

“I’m familiar with basic history, thank you. How... classic,” Kaiba said, in a tone that screamed disinterest, and Ryou’s heart began to plummet - already starting from behind? No, no, no, he reminded himself, straightening the slouch out of his shoulders. Yuugi had warned him about this. Kaiba was fantastically tough to impress, in general, and the Virtual World was his world, a realm he'd built with sweat and tears, and stolen back with blood. So he hand-picked every writer that wrote for Virtual World games, refusing to squander a single pixel on conventional nonsense and uninspired cliché.

The last step - before he brought the axe down - was a short, playable demo, as proof of concept, written by the applicant and executed by the Virtual World team.

Ryou had come this far in the application process. Trust that, Yuugi said. And trust yourself.

Kaiba was looking at him, eyebrows arched with expectant curiosity.

“Er,” Ryou said. “Let’s get started, then. You’ll need to change.”

He pulled up the menu, revelling in the hovering parchment once more, and changed Kaiba’s appearance, like - like magic, the lines of Kaiba’s silhouette rippling like a sine wave from the bottom up, his modern-day clothing becoming a knee-length tunic of chainmail under a belted dark blue surcoat. Kaiba held still throughout the entire transformation, in smug admiration of the effect, his arms held out in a ballet dancer’s pose as chainmail draped down his shoulders to his wrists.

In his right hand appeared, with a sharp, diamond flash of light, a long arming sword, the edge nicked with age and bloodspill. The hilt was black, with a sapphire gleaming in the pommel. A plain shield dropped onto his left forearm.

He gave the sword an experimental spin, testing the heft with practiced ease, and slid it back into the leather scabbard on his belt.

“A knight, the charred, smoking remains of a village… I’m assuming I’m on a quest to kill a dragon?” he said, pushing back the hood of the chainmail so that it draped off his shoulders, and nodding up the slope to where the grasses tattered into rocky shale.

“Yes, you can assume that,” Ryou said politely.

On cue, a child no more than twelve years old staggered up the dusty path from the village, her small torso heaving with breath, sweat and tears running in clean streaks down her soot-stained face.

“Sir Knight,” she choked out. Flashing a look at Ryou that said cheap blow, but unable to deny his own fraternal instinct, Kaiba dropped to one knee and caught her, his hands swallowing her thin, shuddering shoulders. Playing along, at least.

“Calm down,” he said, steadying her. Ryou imagined his anxiety as a small, hard rock, packing in the twist of every fraying nerve, and leaned all his weight onto one foot, grinding the rock into the dirt with his heel. "What is it?”

“They sent me to warn you, about the dragon,” she panted. “They said only the Chosen One can truly defeat the dragon, and bring peace back to the land. Many have tried. All suffered the same terrible fate - a fate worse than death.”

“I see,” Kaiba said. “And who is the Chosen One?”

The girl glanced at Ryou over Kaiba’s shoulder, her eyes glinting with fear.

“No - no one knows,” she said. “But all the oracles say they’re coming… a knight with a pure and worthy heart. Sir Knight, don’t go. Come back to the village. It’s safe there. What do you gain from this? Our humble lands aren’t worth the danger!”

“I think they are,” Kaiba said, thumbing soot off her face, and frowning as her cheek pixelated, briefly, and resumed a skin-like texture. "Open master commands, user ID 000002510. Initiate master log. Begin recording: skin-to-skin contact glitch reappeared during writer play-test, candidate Bakura, R. Begin patch work immediately. End recording. Disperse to Virtual World team, flag Sawada, project manager. Close master commands. Did you know, one of the most compelling unsolved problems in physics is the lack of a theory that realizes both general relativity and quantum mechanics?”

The girl gave him a wary look, wide-eyed with faint alarm. Ryou sucked in a breath, grinding the anxiety rock down, down, down.

“You - you speak in tongues, Sir Knight," she said. "Are you also an oracle? Has your future-sight failed you? Don’t you see that only death lives on the mountain?”

Kaiba snorted and stood up, turning to Ryou. “A solid response to non-standard player input. Doesn’t ignore modern concepts, but re-contextualizes them in the setting of this world via a framework of prophecy, and redirects the player to the plot.”

“Um... thank you?” Ryou said. “I wanted this world to feel like it has a future, too, not just a history. I wanted to place it on a timeline, like it - ”

Kaiba’s attention swung back to the girl, still standing there with her eyes darting between them, full of bafflement.

“Return to the village, girl. Tell them my future-sight never fails me.”

The girl retreated backwards, warily, twisted on her heel, and fled down the path.

"If I go down to the village, what'll I find?" Kaiba said.

"More information about the Chosen One, and an outlaw who tries to recruit you to her band of thieves, with the option to join them for a stealth-based quest.”

"Hm. You have the imagination and the decency to offer me something other than blatant bait, which I don't always bite. The cliché of the Chosen One is boring as hell, it’s both over-done and deterministic, but I think... yes. Yes, I'll bite. Let's go see your dragon."

In the wake of this... compliment?, Ryou could only offer him a small, tentative smile, his heart clenching tight around Yuugi's advice.

Kaiba started up the path.

“Er, Kaiba - you might want to check your inventory before you encounter the dragon."

Kaiba’s hand padded around his waist until he found the small satchel that sat on his hip. Another parchment unfurled in the air before him, listing its contents:

Two full healing spells;

Two glamour spells, for changing the guise of a person or object;

Two transformation spells, for changing a person or an object into an animal;

Two scrying spells, for locating people or objects;

Two ignis spells, for commanding fire;

Two aqua spells, for commanding water; and

Two ventus spells, for commanding wind.

Ryou watched him as he read. He'd carved a small, thick groove into the dirt below his foot. Surely, that was enough for Kaiba to get creative?

Kaiba only closed the parchment with a brisk flick of his hand. Then he started up the mountain, Ryou following nervously behind.

***

The mountain path was rougher than Ryou expected, a tightly-coiled spring of switchbacks, leading to the curved lip of a high pass. After several minutes of trudging the dust in silence, he was panting for breath, his feet aching and blistering in their boots, and deeply regretting adding this little detail to the story. Next time, he was just going to put the dragon on a rolling, grassy plain, and he’d make it like an American autumn corn maze, because it still needed to be a challenge, and when the players got to the center they’d find the dragon’s decaying, rotting corpse and realize they’d been stuck inside the maze for five hundred years and everyone they loved was dead, and if they wanted to go back to their own time they’d have to find out how to resurrect the dragon, but only at a terrible cost, a sacrifice of some kind... Not his best off-the-cuff work, but there were usable concepts in there, somewhere. If there was a next time.

Despite being laden down with the chainmail, each tiny link flashing like fish scales in the airy slanting of the afternoon sun, Kaiba seemed unaffected by the demands of the hike, propelling himself forward with long, energetic strides. How?

Ryou thought about asking for a break. Or drinking water from the stream. Or changing his boots for something comfier, but he didn't have anything else in his outfit inventory except the mage robes, and the slippers might be even worse… he stopped, hands on his hips, gathering his breath.

From here the valley sprawled below them, a wide, velvety plain, its edges rising and scalloped by mountains. The village fit in the circle of his thumb and forefinger, a smoking black thumbprint. The team had done a fantastic job: the stream ran down the mountain, flattened into a river, and ran south, lazy and serpentine, a green-blue ribbon cutting through the yellow plains, just like he’d outlined in his initial description of the world….

Wait.

This was all virtual.

There was no such thing as air, here, or rivers or sunshine or grasses.

His real, physical body was half-asleep in a Virtual World testing pod on the 17th floor of the Kaiba Corp Tower, and his body here was just a series of algorithms, and if he didn’t want to sweat, he didn’t have to fucking sweat! Thank God!

Up ahead, Kaiba noted the absence of his footfalls and turned around, one hand resting easily on his sword hilt. From his position on the path, he looked down at Ryou from several feet up, which doubled the intimidation of his already formidable bearing.

“I’m fine,” Ryou said. “Just... admiring the view.”

“Are you having your Matrix moment? That’s what my programmers call it,” Kaiba said.

Ryou laughed. “I think so. I was tired but I don't feel it at all, anymore. Like all the fatigue's just melted away and I could run a marathon.”

“Is that something you enjoy?”

“Oh, no. I hate sports.”

Kaiba snorted.

“So, tell me. Why do you want this job?” he said. “At my company? Writing stories with my technology?”

“Er - ” Blindsided by the swerve in topics, Ryou tripped over his thoughts. Surely he must’ve read his application? Maybe he didn’t have the time. Stick to straightforward. “I’m sure you remember my performance in Battle City?”

“Yes, I remember,” Kaiba said, which was honestly more than Ryou expected of him.

“Well, I don’t play much Duel Monsters anymore,” he said, “but I still.. every once in a while, I turn my Duel Disk on and play a few cards, just to see my monsters come out, see them breathe… you know I run a Zombie deck, full of demons and dead things, but SolidVision makes them feel so - so alive. You took these fantasy monsters that exist only in our heads and put them in our world.”

“Virtual World game writers don’t work on SolidVision products,” Kaiba countered.

“Right, I know that. To me, Virtual World and SolidVision are the inverse of each other, or opposites that contain each other, like, like yin and yang - with SolidVision, the unreal enters the real, and becomes real. In the Virtual World, the real - ” Ryou motioned to himself - “enters the unreal, and becomes unreal. We like to put walls between imagination and reality, you know, taxes are real and unicorns aren’t, but with SolidVision and Virtual World, there is no wall. That’s the world I want to write stories for.”

“Hm,” Kaiba said, the corner of his mouth curving up in a smile. “Interesting take.”

And he waited, saying nothing more, until Ryou realized he was waiting for him; and trotted lightly up the path to join him.

***

By the time they reached the top of the mountain pass, the air had turned a clear, dusky gold. The mountains cast long, black shadows across the valley, like dark teeth, chewing up the farmlands. The mountain pass was saddle-shaped, one side sloping down into the valley they’d just come from, the other flattening into a smaller, higher bowl, cupping a pale blue-green lake between its rocky palms.

Kaiba scrambled onto the nearest large rock, his head swinging as he scanned the lake valley. Ryou wrapped one arm around his waist and bit his thumb. They had found a deep, penetrating quiet, the kind of wilderness quiet that was devoid of texture of any kind; no bugs or burbling streams or bird song. It was not even like holding your breath, waiting, because that implied a coming moment of exhale, a sigh of relief. This was a perfect stillness.

And hidden somewhere inside it was a dragon.

Ryou bit harder, until he remembered the pain was fake and did nothing, and he had to come up with something else to temper his anxiety, which was definitely, definitely real.

Kaiba's gonna flip his shit when he sees your dragon, Yuugi said, from the back of Ryou's mind, Ryou's demo manuscript in hand. In a good way or a bad way? Is it too derivative? What does it matter that he'll flip his shit for my dragon when he flips his shit for ANY dragon? He's a slut for dragons. Oh my god, you can't say that! Yuugi, please, help - nope. You got this. You know what you're doing.

Even the metallic shing of Kaiba’s sword coming out of its sheath seemed small, in an unnatural way, a pointless, petty defiance.

A shadow fell across the lake valley.

Both of them looked up -

and an enormous dragon hurtled out of the sky, landing with thundering force on all four clawed feet, flattening trees and boulders beneath its reptilian bulk. Ryou staggered backwards and fell, in an awkward, clumsy crab pose; Kaiba threw his shield over his face and dug in, undaunted.

"HAVE YOU COME TO KILL ME?" the dragon boomed. “MISERABLE WRETCH?”

Kaiba lowered his shield, just enough for his first full look at the dragon. From his spot, crumpled on the ground, Ryou saw, in the shadow below the shield, another slender smile. The dragon’s hide was a dark, luxurious blue-black, mottled like snakeskin but textured with the heavy crags and knobs of crocodiles. It lowered its head on its long, arching neck, gracefully bearing the weight of two massive, curving horns, and stared down at them with fathomless acid-green eyes.

Even Ryou, who had designed it, sat enthralled: every movement it made - the eager flick of its tail, the claws, curling into the dirt, glinting under a layer of blood and grime, the shuddering of its leathery wings as they folded into its long body - hinted at indomitable power. It was a true creature of legend, a titan from the youngest days of the world, demanding both reverence and terror.

“I have!” Kaiba replied blithely, despite announcing it in a ringing voice.

“ONLY THE CHOSEN ONE CAN DEFEAT ME,” the dragon said. “YOU ARE NOT WORTHY OF SUCH A FEAT. I SEE YOUR HEART, BLACKGUARD KNIGHT. I CAN TASTE THE BLOOD YOU’VE SPILLED WITH YOUR SWORD, BRIGHT AND PUNGENT. I CAN HEAR THE CRIES OF ALL THE LIVES YOU’VE LET EBB INTO THE DIRT AT YOUR FEET!”

“I’m here to avenge the village!” Kaiba shouted.

“YOU COME UP HERE TO DEFEND SOME PATHETIC SCRAPS OF BRICK AND WOOD, THINKING YOU CAN KILL ME, AND CALL THAT HONOR? REDEMPTION? YOU CALL THAT COURAGE? ITS TRUE NAME IS VANITY! EMPTY AND FALSE! IT WILL STRIKE YOU DOWN BEFORE I DO!” the dragon boomed again. “LEAVE. I WAS ONCE NAIVE AND VAIN LIKE YOU. COME BACK WHEN YOU ARE MORE THAN A MERE WORM, OR ELSE SUFFER MY FATE!”

Ryou had clambered to his feet and bolted for the safety of a low ridge, which gave him a perfect view of Kaiba, head held high and proud as he gazed unflinching at the dragon, several hundred times his size. He’d written those words in his notebook on the metro, leaning his head against the cool midnight glass, pausing every other line to ferret out another piece of sour candy from his bag. Then he’d missed his stop. That trundling, light-washed world of a train car seemed impossibly distant now - a rapidly fading dream, to be remembered only in flashes and silence. To hear the words come out of the smoking jaws of this dragon, each syllable flowing in a delicious, indulgent baritone from its shining teeth, filled him with a breathless exhilaration, his heart hammering in his throat - this was real!

“Only one of us is suffering fate today!” Kaiba shouted back, a laugh in his voice, and then threw a glance at Ryou. “‘Suffer my fate?’ Is that a typo?”

“VERY WELL. COME KILL ME! THERE IS PEACE IN DEATH, AND ONLY ONE OF US CAN CLAIM IT!”

“I - watch out!” Ryou yelled, as the dragon lunged forward, its jaws snapping shut on the empty air where Kaiba had been standing half a second before. Kaiba threw himself out of the way, a nimble tuck and roll, and scrabbled across the shale towards higher ground. Behind him, the dragon swung its massive head, nostrils red and flaring, mouth curled up in a savage draconic grin, glinting with the promise of violence.

No sooner had Kaiba flung himself behind a scattering of boulders, shield raised, than it unleashed a jet of fire so hot and scorching the boulders glowed red, their rough faces melting in sheets. Ryou felt the heat wash across his face, from several dozen yards away.

The fire died out. The dragon snorted in satisfaction, horse-like, a loud, wet huff of smoke. The boulders sizzled as they cooled into their new, bizarrely dripping forms.

Kaiba emerged from behind a boulder, sweating and singed, his face streaked with ash and his eyes shining. He tossed the warped, melted wreckage of his shield aside, where it bounced and clattered against the rocks.

“SO YOU STILL LIVE? A MISTAKE. WHAT COMES NEXT WILL HURT WORSE!”

“For you!” Kaiba hurled back, and threw his hand into the air, a gesture Ryou had seen countless times on a duel field - a lightning rod, a summoning. “VENTUS!”

The wind picked up, in a giddy, howling whirl, bringing with it a cloud of dust that descended gritty and blinding and pale across the valley. Kaiba and the dragon vanished from sight inside it. Mentally Ryou subtracted one spell from Kaiba’s satchel.

“THIS WON’T HELP Y - ” Cut off by a wet chop and an ear-splitting draconic scream, a raw, awful sound, torn out of an unwilling throat. Just below it, a glorious, cascading laugh. “WRETCH! WORM!”

The dust settled, revealing glistening, dark-green blood splattered across the rocks, and a single severed claw, its flesh still twitching. The dragon seethed, its wounded foot curled in agony. Kaiba was clear across the other side of the pass, by the dragon’s tail, grinning open-mouthed as he panted for breath. His chainmail and surcoat dripped with dragon blood; his hair was thick with it.

“COME GET YOUR PEACE, DRAGON!” he bellowed, and the dragon slung its head around, tail coiling in an ominous whip.

Again Kaiba lifted his hand, shouted “VENTUS - !”

And a second dust cloud barreled into the valley, as the dragon roared back, “THAT WON’T WORK AGAIN!”

It whipped its tail through the dust cloud, a scythe-like sweep - smacking something hard into the rocks with a thick, fleshy crunch of bone that made Ryou’s insides clench tight with terrified sympathy.

The dragon whirled around, clearing the dust with several storm-gathering wingbeats.

This was not real. This was just pixels, neatly arranged and running in rivers of algorithms - just a clever series of ones and zeroes - and yet Ryou gasped, the dragon laughing, at the sight of Kaiba lying in a crumpled, motionless heap in the rocks. He hadn’t considered Kaiba might actually fail to kill the dragon - all thoughts of jobs and game-writing abandoned - unreality aside, the mind had a way of making it real - what the fuck happened if Kaiba died?

“IS THAT ALL YOU HAVE, WORM?” the dragon said, nudging Kaiba’s limp body with its claws, rolling him over. His head lolled, his body twisted into a horrifying, broken-boned slouch. How on earth was Ryou going to explain this to Yuugi? Hell. “I TOLD YOU, YOU'RE NOT W - ”

Ryou almost didn’t see it - a hawk in a dive, arrow-straight, from the top of the sky, diving through a blinding flash of light several stories up - and out of the light came Kaiba, alive and whole, plummeting towards the dragon’s head, gripping his sword with both hands - plunging it straight through the top of the dragon’s skull.

He left the sword hilt-deep in dragon flesh as he pitched forward with the force of impact, rolling over the dragon’s brow, flailing to catch himself - on the massive horn. Clinging, victorious, as the great dragon swayed, its green eyes filming, and finally slumped, in agonized slow motion, to the earth, body first, head last, with a thundering, bone-rattling crash.

It released one last, rattling breath, the trees shuddering in the fetid breeze.

The valley descended into stillness once more.

Ryou sat down on his low escarpment with a limp thump, burying his face in both hands. This was just a Virtual World, where at one point everything would power down and they’d wake up safe and sound in the squishy, air-conditioned comfort of a pod, and he had, after all, planned on Kaiba killing the dragon, but Kaiba’s sheer nerve seemed beyond that. Yuugi was right. The guy was, maybe, a little nuts. Completely off his rocker.

“Ryou,” Kaiba said, above him, and Ryou lifted his head. Kaiba rested the sword jauntily across his shoulder, the rest of him filthy with dragon blood and human blood and dirt. “I have to say, I enjoyed your dragon. A shame it had to die.”

“Your strategy... You used a glamour spell? On a... rock? To make it look like your dead body,” Ryou said. “And then a transformation spell.”

“Correct. Is that all for your demo?” Kaiba said, cocking an eyebrow, both bloody and disdainful, and Ryou swallowed. “I was hoping for more of a cha - ”

His words stopped hard in his throat, a harsh, hacking sound. His free hand flew to his neck, mouth dropping open in pain and confusion, eyes widening. He coughed - or tried to, achieving nothing more than a thin, ugly retching, his face going white - and Ryou watched, in fascinated horror, as his gamble began to play out. There was nothing he could do to help; he’d written it that way.

The sword clattered to the stones, green blood dripping off the shining edge, as Kaiba staggered sideways, gasping for breath, both hands on his neck - what was the algorithm doing to him? Ryou had only written ‘a suffocating, squirming pain, concentrated in the lungs,’ and resolved to think more carefully about what types of pain he might inflict on the player characters, if the gamble paid off... But how interesting to know even the creator of the Virtual World himself suspended his disbelief - his knowledge of the truth - sometimes, and indulged in pain...

He collapsed to his knees, stretching one hand out, fisting it around Ryou’s collar and dragging him closer -

“What - ” he choked out, eyes glaring into Ryou’s, in baffled, furious agony - terrified - they rolled backwards, the blue sliding away to white, as he slumped over himself.

His hand went slack and fell. What life remained slipped away in a low, shaking sigh.

Ryou took him by the shoulders and gently lay him down, passing a hand over his eyes to close them. Dead, but not really.

“Just hold on a moment,” he said. The body had been vacated. The soul - the player - was awakening elsewhere.

He waited a few moments, absorbing the stillness, the detail on the leaves of the pine trees; the way the lake water shimmered in golden flecks with late afternoon light. It was maybe his last few seconds to enjoy the world he’d written, rendered in full splendor by the magic of technology, and he’d banished his anxiety from both his mind and body, to live out its exile in the real world. It didn’t belong here.

The great dragon body began to stir, drowsily, waking up from a deep, deep sleep. The deepest sleep.

Ryou stood up and slid down the escarpment to the dragon, pebbles and dust avalanching around his feet. The stab wound in its skull was knitting back together; the severed claw was crawling back to its slow-bleeding joint. There was an agonized hiss, forced through the dragon’s tightly-clenched teeth, and a vibrating groan, deep in its chest, as it gathered itself out of death.

Its eyes opened, in wary slits - not the bright, acid green, but a stunning, oceanic blue.

“OW. FUCK,” it growled, in Kaiba’s voice, magnified and twice as resonant. “OPEN MASTER COMMANDS, USER ID 000002510. SUSPEND ALL PAIN ALGORITHMS. CLOSE MASTER COMMANDS.”

He rolled upright, flexing his wings with experimental care. He arched his neck, looking down at Ryou.

“YOU TURNED ME INTO A DRAGON.”

“Yes,” Ryou said cautiously.

“NO ONE HAS EVER TURNED ME INTO A DRAGON BEFORE,” Kaiba said. ”SO I WASN’T WORTHY? IS THIS WHAT IT MEANS TO SUFFER THE DRAGON’S FATE? EVERYONE WHO KILLS THE DRAGON BECOMES THE DRAGON, AND ONLY THE CHOSEN ONE BREAKS THE CYCLE. IS THAT HOW IT GOES?”

“That’s how it goes.”

“HOW DO I FIND THE CHOSEN ONE?”

“You choose them,” Ryou said. “You decide what makes them worthy.”

"SO ANYONE CAN BE THE CHOSEN ONE? ANYONE CAN BREAK MY CURSE?"

"That's right."

Kaiba pondered that for a moment, flexing his claws idly in the dirt, the massive slabs of muscle in his shoulders shifting as he tested the strength and fit of his new draconic body. His gaze drifted out over the lower valley, eyes clouding briefly with memories of another story, another game, another man; one who had always seemed real and unreal, all at once, no matter what world he lived in. Ryou had heard it all from Yuugi.

Then Kaiba looked at him and started to laugh, a sound that echoed and rebounded across the small lake valley, the water shivering as each delighted peal of laughter rolled across. Ryou blushed as it buffeted him from all sides.

“IS THAT SO,” Kaiba said, with dry relish. “YOU’RE HIRED.”

#sibbinthegivengibbon #fanfiction #euroshipping #(platonic)#oh my goddddddd this was a blast to write i just enjoyed myself the entire time #thanks for the prompt!!#its 1 AM i'm going the FUCK to sleep

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psychemeanscure · 3 years

Text

PART 15

Yes, their treacherous war has started indeed that for some time Sung Eunyoung will be left off-guard the moment she went out of her car through entering her possible investor’s premise just to be fazed by the leaving familiar parade of his underlings’ car or rather him in it. “Mierda! He’s at it again?” getting robbed surely for every now and then Jang Taeyoung’s persuasions were getting better and better. Guess Zilo’s helping hand somehow paved way literally.

Yet with next days she manages to counter still. “Boss, they pulled back with our offer.” Like how the simple message he heard from his assistant annoyed him on the spot. “What? F*ck this, Sung Eunyoung!” Cursing by her savage competence for he had lost another entrance of opportunity.

Their game of gain and loss, the survival of the fittest, name it. They’re on the bridge of push and pull of business rivalries that’s for sure. Before they realize? They both burnout with exhaustion. Riled with loads of work ups and deals, they certainly need a break.

Especially, Jang Taeyoung. For it is winter. The season he hated the most. A day he doesn’t want to remember. It slipped in his mind perhaps thanks to their busy reciprocal fights somehow, but not when he happened to glimpse by the window glass though. ‘Sucks.’ A curse he can only manage with his thoughts, walking lazily to get the clearer view.

Surely as he saw few snowflakes dropping by. He confirmed it. The next thing he did? He was already drinking hard of his whiskey until he went drop, oblivious of his drunken state. He had never been in a while but guess he chose just this once as exception.

It’s past midnight yet Sung Eunyoung is still up in the middle of reviewing few documents in her room when a consecutive ringing from her apartment’s doorbell and knocking of the door interrupted her from doing so as a crunching forehead creep into annoyance. “Who the hell is dilapidating my doorsteps in wee hours?! Ugh.”

Not minding to check the intercom again, she was shock after finding out who it was indeed. A drunk Jang Taeyoung leaning by the threshold who seems planning to offer a set of drinks seeing the plastic bag he carries which intently levels in front of her while the other in its common spot in his pocket. Faced with an exaggerating smile, he greeted. “Hi. Can I come in?”

For a drunken person, he’s pretty decent somehow. A good thing perhaps. Twitching her brows then while crossing arms, she speaks. “The last thing I know we were enemies already, aren’t we?”

Her simple counter certainly just to be welcome by his disappointed leaning head to the wall and a falling elevated hands with plastic bag. “Right. But can we at least drop it and be friends?”

“What? Are you seriou---“

“Just for today. Please, Sung Eunyoung. Hm?”

And God knows how she was taken aback from what she heard. Or rather, from the gentle expression she had never seen on him but now. Has to even blink twice as if absorbing every sentence, he said. ‘Cabrón.’ With the unspoken curse she obliged to hide, she composes herself by avoiding his gaze. “Whatever.”

Her firm consent instead while occupying her long couch in the living room, dodging the fact that he even chooses to sit beside her. Tending a drunk man, she considers pampering him for once surely as she was just constantly gaping every move he does without her usual nagging. Pulling out the contents of the plastic bag consist of canned beers and as well the instant product she can’t believe she would witness with him. “Ramyeon?” her surprised sound from the word definitely before shaking her head as if she already knew what’s the next thing that could happened. “Jang Taeyoung, don’t you dare ask me to cook for you cab---“

“Please?”

‘What the?’ Cut by a request certainly for she can’t help but to think a cuss again. “Hey look you Cabrón, if you were just craving for noodles why not bought cup noodles instead of tiring me like I’m some sort of your nanny here. Come on.”

Proceeded by her continues rejection just to be responded by his pity- kind of sigh. “I was actually looking for a soup ingredient but can’t find any from that lousy convenience store so I end up buying this instead.”

“What? So you even intended for a soup? Great!”

Her sarcastic reply then, only to see the pleading expression he keeps on giving even a while ago. Enough for her to surrender as well. “Aish. F*ck this. Will you just stop that candid face of yours? You’re not even a puppy to begin with. Please!”

As a rare English curse came into her, glaring to the only chuckling man in front of her. “So you’re doing it? Does it work?”

“Shut up.” Snatching the product from his hand with no choice but to enter her kitchen with a frown, nagging in between every move she does. Yet she ends up finishing it anyway to later remembering what he actually wanted in the first place though. Unfortunately, she’s not too familiar with the variety so guess she has to choose the most typical kind which everyone knows eventually. Good thing she have still ingredients of it from her storage that with a pulling for more kitchenware and bowls she basically starts cooking again then. “Tss. I can’t believe I’m doing this for that loco.”

Her last ramble of words indeed before finally setting up her finished work on the tray, obliging to serve it to her unwelcome guest as always. Just to be thanked by a half sleeping Jang Taeyoung who’s head already rested on the backrest of the couch. “What a life. Now I have to deal with a sleeping adult.” Putting the tray on the center table then as she was just standing right there staring at him for no reason like she has to grant the rest he needed.

Not when she begins to memorize his face though. The meek appearance she never imagined to perceive in front of her eyes. New to the smart- like eyeglasses she only once saw him wear but now. The standard curled brush up of his hair for she can always observe every outline of his manly forehead. Enough of denials, she did saw him as a handsome lad of her liking. She just doesn’t like to admit it given the arrogance he possesses.

Too late for her to realize what she is currently doing actually. Absentmindedly tracing the parts, she describes till she went overboard to his lips as it only takes a second for her to come back on reverie. Almost touching hands stop mid-air, shutting eyes in conviction from her crazy actions she could have executed.

Before she knew? She was already tapping impulsively with his right shoulder by her right back hand which apparently wakes him up from slumber. Met by the still half hooded eyes, straighten up in a snap recognizing his positon. Pleased after sighting the serve tray with covered bowls on it. “Oh, okay. It’s ready.” As he was blinking in couple of times as if hiding the obvious embarrassment by composing himself like an innocent victim. Swearing all her might from her own thoughts seeing a peculiar behavior she had never future giving in with suppressing laugh. Lucky to be able to hold it thankfully as she cleared her throat, placing her usual straight face.

“You better pay me after this loco or I might just destroy you completely. You know how expensive I am, aren’t you?”

As if a threatening sarcasm she seriously means while voluntarily opening two canned beers, taking one for herself and one for him before deciding to sit on the single couch instead. Unaware of what he is reacting for she is still busy savoring her own drink yet aware of his silence thus she insists to proceed in another rambles. “By the way, speaking of which. I was about to remind you tha---“

Just to be confused finally after seeing the reaction. ‘Again? What’s with him today, really.’ The unspoken verdict she prefers not to voice out. “Hey! If you just being picky from my effort, then better trash it inst---“

Intended to switch the mood somehow by standing while planning to pick up the bowls he already opened only to be cut off anyway from him stopping her wrist. “No. Please don’t.” He leads her instead to sit next to him again. “It’s good, Eunyoung. Thank you.” To later saw a small smile after, and for her to guess what she felt with his presence all along.

Reserved. He looks reserved like he obliged to keep it on his own. Yet she remained silent. She was just right there observing his every move once again as he quietly starts to get some rice she includes to serve to slurping between the noodles and the soup he actually stared for quite a minute as it was also the reason of her sudden confusion. ‘What’s bothering you, Jang Taeyoung’ unspoken concern she obliged to hide.

That with a loud thud of spoon and chopsticks, and a final belch of being full, she chooses to offer her satisfaction and pride. “Wow… what a hospitable guest I have. Doesn’t even try to give an inch for his hired cook.”

A mockery he obviously understands which he answered by a chuckle as well. “Well you didn’t ask, so I presume you’re not hungry. Were you?” rolling her eyes not wanting to fight a drunk man. “Let me guess. Five bottles of whiskey?”

Only to be reciprocated by his knowing arrogance. ��Ten, actually.”

For she can only draw in shock. “What? And you can still stand like a sober one?”

Garnering a laugh from him already. “Come on, milady. You do know I’m Jang Taeyoung for nothing as well, right?” initially tilting his head afterwards “And your serving only makes it helpful to complete it.”

Acknowledging her lose by his wink after the last sentence indeed, she surrendered groaning in defeat. “Stop it, Jang Taeyoung or get out.” As it’s not already hard for him to cope up on what she means, laughing from the idea instead. “Alright, I’ll stop.”

If this was an ordinary day she used to foresee his slyness, she surely drags him already out of her doorsteps but no. He was undoubtedly obedient that he only casually positions himself to a better angle where he can stare at her comfortably. Idly resting his head on the backrest again but this time, in sideways. Truly as she is also leaning by the armrest, free to look at him as well.

It was as if a solemn air indulges them to seek in silence and just remain in there steady breathing while devouring their separate drinks. She only waited. So as he broke the ice. “Eunyoung.” His mere call of her name. “Hm.” with the mere hum she replied.

“Can you talk about your mother?”

She stifled. Stiffed in the middle of trailing the rim of her own beer, looking at him with a baffled frown. “Are you sure you went to the right person?” a sarcasm which only answered by his chuckle the moment he shifts in a straighten position again, looking down calmly to its cupping hands of his own drink. “I’m sure I am.” Shrugging his shoulders then as he proceeded for another sentence. “It’s just that, beside your father’s story I haven’t heard about your mother’s.”

“And why is so?”

This time he turns a head to her again. “You wouldn’t know. I might spill something for your interest.”

A matter of fact, it intrigued her indeed. She gave in. For she watches by the glass window right behind from where they’re seated. “She died.” And it surprised him. Yet he remained silent while only waiting for her to continue. “Chronic cancer. Mom’s death was maybe one of the reason of father’s downfall with his business. He can’t think straight, guess that’s why it’s easy for that Spanish hag to take advantage of his motive.”

It was her turn then to look down on its own. Getting sensitive from the memories of her biological parents. Rubbing some droplets of water from her canned beer. “And you know what’s strange?”

“What?”

She looks up then to gaze at him once again. “That we can’t seemed to find her body after being put up in mortuary.”

“Dad that time is planning a private burial for mom, then the day after tomorrow it disappeared. Even the hospital staffs felt puzzled as they were also sure that they have taken mom from that storage.”

“Unless…” he started to interrupt finally.

“Yes, unless of someone. So dad tried checking the hospital’s security, even brought it to the police but none. They can’t give any leads. He was devastated and I can only cry for I am still powerless kid.”

“But you have it now. Did you try?”

“I did.”

Shaking her head then. “But in spite of all the connections I earned, I can’t still.”

So as quietness came in then as it was enough for Jang Taeyoung to fill the pieces in his mind. Staring bewilderedly with nowhere, open for Sung Eunyoung’s notice once more as she tilted her head out of curiosity. “Why?”

Sighing for he is still processing things on a right place. “Now it makes sense.”

For it was her turn to get confused over. “What do you mean?” a simple question, little not knowing what comes next.

“I heard it.”

And it triggered her. Just right to halt the elevated canned beer she somehow planned to sip again.

“What?”

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monysmediareview · 3 years

Text

Juliet, a novel by Ann Fortier Review

This time I have a review for a one-off book rather than a series for you guys and it may have actually reached the top of my list for favorite books ever. Juliet, a novel by Anne Fortier was so incredibly good I worry I’ll never be able to fully describe the way it made me feel reading it. I read this book incredibly slow because the idea of finishing it made me so upset; I didn’t want it to end but also found myself thinking about it constantly.

The Shakespeare of it All

When I found this book at goodwill, I figured I’d grab it just to see what it was. Having a degree in theatre and having studied Shakespeare in Europe, I even work for a Shakespeare specific theatre; I figured it would at the very least be interesting. And I was right, but for the wrong reasons. Shakespeare is barely mentioned as the book is actually about the true story of Romeo & Juliet.

If you don’t already know, Shakespeare stole the story of Romeo & Juliet from an Italian poet who wrote the story in the early to mid 1500’s. That story may have also been stolen from another author from France, and maybe even someone else before that. Thanks to the lack of records or copyright laws, there’s not really a way to be sure but we do know that Shakespeare was not the first, only the most famous. And to be fair, his story is much more intense since it takes place over the course of less than a week while the original plot takes months. There are a few other differences between the two but the gist of it is, two star crossed lovers separated by family feuds and ending in tragedy. And this book takes us through all of that drama and gives us a beautiful and dramatic ending to it all.

The Real Story

Some of the things I loved about this book were actually the historical events and characters. The three families in the story, the Tolomeis, the Salimbenis, and the Marescottis were apparently all real families that had feuds and stories fairly similar to what happened in this book. Fortier wrote in her authors note that she did take some liberties with the history for the sake of the story but that she tried to be faithful to them. I do highly suggest reading her author’s note if you get the book because for me, it made it that much more special.

I think that her ability to blend the past and present was well executed and emotional in ways I wasn’t expecting. I really felt the connection between the Romeo and Giulietta of 1340 and the Romeo and Guiletta of the early 2000’s. Her ability to connect these people not only by blood but by fate and destiny and emotion and passion is unmatched and she managed to do it in roughly 500 pages.

Divine Intervention

I am normally not a fan of books with religious undertones, especially without some kind of supernatural explanation to it but in Juliet it really didn’t strike me as prevalent even though it was. The Virgin Mother and the “curse on both your houses” are two huge driving forces behind this story. Both felt like completely natural pieces of the puzzle rather than an overbearing push for Catholic guilt which could have easily been the case in a story set in Italy spanning 600 years with generational family drama. There was a real feeling of the Virgin Mother being the overseer of the fate of these people and bringing them together, to righting the wrongs done in the past. In a lot of other books this might have felt preach-y or overbearing but it actually made fate feel real.

Love Story

I’m a sucker for a good romance book; I will read love story after love story after love story, but even I can get tired of the same plot over and over again. Sometimes the misogyny gets tiring and I want these female led stories to be about more than finding a man to complete them and this book gave me exactly that.

The story starts and ends with Julie Jacobs’ family. She needs to learn about her family, about her history, where she’s really from. I got so sucked into her journey of self discovery that I kind of forgot it was a love story for a while. And that kind of messed me up when we got there because I had missed a lot of the chemistry build up that I had to think back about to even realize it was there. I was so focused on her learning about her father and visiting banks and libraries that I nearly missed her falling completely in love. But in the end it was one of the most passionate and tumultuous love stories, because when you’re Romeo & Juliet, how could you have anything else?

My Personal Opinion on R&J

Following that I want to talk quickly about Romeo & Juliet. If you’ve taken a Shakespeare class or even just a high school English class at some point you’ve probably talked about this. Sometimes it gets glossed over because it’s one of the well known stories and they don’t usually waste time on it but I’m going to.

Classes like this tend to brush these lovers off as horny teenagers who are in lust and get married so they can bone each other but I think that’s a sad approach. I’ll even admit that was my view on it for a while, but not now. It’s a love story. It’s the love story. So to read an in depth story like this that doesn’t diminish the real feelings they had for each other was very pleasing. I might write a whole thing about some of my Shakespeare opinions one day but for now I will leave you with this:

To thine own self be true. Shakespeare is theatre. It isn’t mean to be read, it’s meant to be staged. And the beauty of theatre is that every single production of every play is different (at least it’s supposed to be. Some directors have yet to learn this, but I digress). This means that everyone interprets things differently, so while I think Romeo & Juliet are the ultimate lovers, you might think they were just horny teenagers. And that’s okay.

Generational Drama

Generational stories like this hold a special place in my heart. I’m not sure what it is exactly, but the idea of fate and family and stories that span hundreds of years just really get me. I won’t go on about this too much because I’ve already mentioned it a few times but I love the redemption that Romeo and Guilietta get through their ancestors, even if it was 600 years later. I love that their love lasted generations and the thought of how the spirits of the original couple feel looking at themselves, their ancestors, finally bringing their families together chokes me up a little if I’m being honest.

Alessandro

I was really not counting on Alessandro being such an important piece of this story, but his evolution as a character was a fucking ride. Going from a security guard/driver, to basically an undercover cop, to potential lover, to fake identity, to actual lover, to liar and cheat, to being framed and actually being a lover and savior was intense. Ideal. I loved and hated him through the whole thing but I was very happy with where he ended up.

Symbolism

There is so much symbolism in this book. The gems being the color of their eyes, the golden statues, the paintings, the maestros. All of it. It can be found on almost every page. But there were a few that really stood out to me.

The cencio and dagger constantly popping up as important of the story for Giulietta was not lost on me. I’m still tossing around what I think it really means, actually, but where I stand now is the idea of an official marriage and what makes it official in the eyes of the Virgin Mother. Romeo and Giulietta weren’t considered actually married because they never consummated and it didn’t happen on the cencio if it had. So for it to have been hidden in Julie’s bed after that weird secret ceremony with Alessandro, was interesting because they also weren’t really married. Not the way we think of now. It just shows that marriage isn’t defined by sex (which I think futher proves my point that this was never just about horny teenagers. As well as the entirety of this book), or by words. Marriage is defined by love and commitment.

And then there’s the River Diana. Another thing I haven’t quite landed on a full meaning for, but I know what it made me feel. It’s hard to put into words, but the first word that came to mind was literally symbolism. This story, this curse, killed Diana, Julie’s mother. And now Julie made it to the statue, and she found her Romeo and in the moment that she almost dies it’s by drowning in the River Diana. This whole time she was drowning in what her mother started for her and it’s Alessandro that pulls her out and saves her from it. Being with him is what keeps her alive, from being swept away by this curse the way her mother was. So maybe it’s symbolic of the end. Of not falling into the same pattern or being swept into the same current.

Plot Twists

This story never went where I thought it was going to go. I don’t actually want to talk about the plot twists too much because I want people reading this to be as surprised as I was. Not like I didn’t spoil things before but there are still quite a few things I didn’t mention that really fucked me up if I’m being honest.

If you’re a fan of plot twists, please read this book.

Ye Olde Slow as Hell Language

I don’t want to scare anyone off here - most of the book is in modern language and even the parts that take us back to 1300 aren’t that bad. But they are far more detailed and can sometimes just feel really slow. But all of the information is really important so I wouldn’t skip it. But the language and the flow of the story really slows things down in these parts and it’s what made me take so long to finish this book. Well that and the fact that I just wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I finished it too soon.

However, I will give the author credit for having parallel story lines set so far apart. She really pulled it off and made the entire thing just so magical. By the time they died, I didn’t want to leave that world. I wanted to stay and watch them be happy but then I got to go back to Julie and watch her get her happily ever after

Janet’s Character Development

Right off the bat we’re supposed to hate Janet. And we do. She’s awful and when she shows back up we kind of hate her even more because of what she’s been doing. I didn’t feel sorry for her in the slightest. Up until the last few chapters of the book, these twin sisters felt very estranged so to go from that to them being a fantastic duo that you root for was a twist I wasn’t ready for but whole heartedly welcomed. It was a nice change of pace to see a female character arc into a better person instead of someone who got increasingly bitter. Still not a huge fan of the character but she ended up being kind of important and at least it passed the Betchdel test, right?

In Conclusion

I think this might be my favorite book now. High recommend.

#monyreview #media review #book revie #romeo and juliet #r+j #juliet #ann fortier #books #book tumblr #best seller #romance #historical fiction #modern au

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hetacon · 4 years

Text

For Humanity’s Sake

Word Count: 2,668

Pairings: Platonic Moxiety, Background platonic LAMP, Background Romantic Logicality, Background Romantic Prinxiety

Warning: Swearing, physical fighting (really light, it’s one punch), bullying, crying, so so much Patton angst but I swear Virgil makes him happy

______________________________

Summary: Patton has a hard time making friends.

______________________________

By no means was Virgil seen as a kind person to all of his high school. While he was definitely the lone wolf type, he got more involved in getting into others’ business than he should have.

He got into fights basically.

He picked unnecessary fights, got into plenty of trouble, and was in detention fairly often. His parents didn’t seem to care if their son was a delinquent because outside of school, he was no more harmful than your average person.

The difference came with Patton. Patton Hart, Virgil’s best and, frankly, only friend. Well, now, he’d had some others before getting involved with Patton.

Patton Hart was definitely not the most normal of people, not that it was in any way a bad thing. He was cheerful, loved to laugh and talk for hours, sang to himself as he did chores, doodled all over his notes, made silly jokes, anything he darn well felt like doing. He had anxiety that could very well near rival Virgil’s own and that was damn impressive in and of itself. Despite this, he wasn’t very well liked.

See, even with how kind and sociable Patton tended to be, many people found him rather off putting. For one reason or another, if there was a word that people would use to describe Patton, it was this: annoying.

And if that didn’t make Virgil’s blood boil.

Since early childhood, Patton had always been sweet and talkative, going on for hours about his interests, talking about anything and everything he wanted to with a happy demeanor about him. Even then, he didn’t have friends. His mother would tell him that she always saw him as the type to get along with everyone and that everyone liked but Virgil knew Patton saw himself as pretty obnoxious. The other kids only played with him because they were in the same class as him. He was with the same 20 or so kids for 7 years, kindergarten to 6th, and not a single one of them really enjoyed him being there. It was only a nicety if anything.

Patton managed to make some friends in junior high due to common interests but this turned out more than disastrous than Patton would’ve dared to imagine. By high school, he started to realize just how little people actually wanted to talk to him so he started to keep his mouth shut whenever possible.

Virgil Knight completely destroyed that behavior as Patton instantly clicked in a way neither had ever experienced.

For one thing, Virgil actually listened to Patton as he went on long and exhaustingly winding stories, talking up a storm something fierce that Virgil wondered how Patton had ever managed to stay quiet about all of the thoughts running through his head.

Another thing was that they shared a few common interests, the first of which had brought them together being a really obscure movie from 1991. Patton was really into discussing the character growth, psychoanalysis of the characters, the time period and history, and everything in between of their common interests and while it was a bit harder for Virgil to express it to that extent, he listened to what Patton rambled about with no complaint.

One of Patton’s favorites though was that Virgil actually took the time and effort to encourage Patton to talk about the things he wanted to talk about and do the things he wanted to do. It was something special for them both.

Virgil loved Patton with every inch of his heart and he didn’t hesitate for a single second to remind people of that.

Clearly that was going to happen right now, Virgil thought to himself as one of his friends started to ask a question.

“Hey, dude, why do you even hang out with Patton? He’s not really your...” his friend hesitated, sucking in a breath. “I dunno, your style I guess.”

Virgil looked up from his lunch, mid-bite as he held his sandwich in his hands. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asked a bit cooly, his language not really showing much animosity to it. But oh boy, if things were going where he thought they were-

“Virge, you’re like, his only friend, doesn’t that say something to you? How do you know he isn’t a shitty person or has serious issues or something? I wouldn’t trust him,” another person from the table spoke up.

“You don’t have to trust him or like him, you can’t please everyone. I do though, all that matters to me really. Patton’s not your friend? Chill, means I have no competition for the best friend title,” Virgil hummed out lowly, taking another bite of his sandwich.

A silence fell over the table before finally, someone seemed to say what everyone else was thinking. “Virgil, you know everyone finds him kind of obnoxious right? I mean, he’s always so loud, he clings to you like a lost puppy, and he literally doesn’t know when to shut up. He’s frankly kinda weak, who even needs to be that emotional, dude? Patton’s honestly psycho.”

Virgil’s fist slammed into his face and he was on the table, leaning over to tower over the person in front of him. His hand gripped at his friend’s shirt tightly, watching with a snarl as his friend shrank back a bit, eyes wide and clearly shocked.

“You’re going to shut the fuck up about Patton. He doesn’t have friends because shitheads like you guys can’t understand why someone would love life so much. He is not annoying, he is not weak, and he is not fucking psycho. He enjoys things, he wants to express his emotions rather than cower behind an act like an actual wimp, and he’s my best friend,” Virgil growled out. He snapped his head up to see everyone in the cafeteria looking at his table and he shoved his friend back roughly, standing on the table as he started to yell. “Patton Hart is the best person I could ever ask to be friends for and if you have a problem with business that isn’t yours to talk about, you take it up with me! You got a problem with him? You’re dealing with me before anything else and I will not stop for a single second! Fuck all of you!!”

With that, he clamored off the table, grabbing his food and backpack before storming out, catching Patton’s wrist as his friend was about to enter the cafeteria door he came out of.

“Woah Virgil, slow down!” Patton laughed, running to Virgil’s side, moving Virgil’s hand to hold his. “What’s going on?”

“People suck,” Virgil scowled before his expression softened. “How was tutoring?” he asked gently, kissing Patton’s temple. He smiled to himself in satisfaction as Patton practically lit up.

“Good, just needed a little refresher before tomorrow’s test is all,” Patton told him.

“You meet up with that guy in your class you like?” he asked, smiling a bit as Patton leaned his head on Virgil’s shoulder.

Patton turned a little pink and nodded. “Yeah, he was super sweet about it even if it was a silly reason to get tutoring.”

“My best friend is silly,” Virgil hummed. “But that’s just how I like him~”

_____

Things didn’t get better for Patton as Virgil saw. Not that he exactly expected things to magically get better, for people to understand Patton overnight, and for Patton to have as many friends as humanly possible. But this was ridiculous, truly.

People started to stare at both of them, especially Patton. People wouldn’t even talk to Patton during his classes, at least the ones that knew what was going on. It didn’t seem to affect Patton too much but there were definitely moments, as was happening tonight.

Virgil had invited Patton over for a sleepover weeks ago and was getting everything ready when he heard a knock on the door, hurrying to get it.

Patton was a mess. He didn’t have his glasses for one thing, his clothes were rumpled and messy, and most noticeably was his hair, tangled and tousled unrelentingly, a wad of gum stuck in it. Patton looked close to tears and Virgil just hugged him tightly before ushering him in.

The first part of their evening was spent with Patton laying his head in Virgil’s lap as they watched The Rescuers, Virgil’s hand working through Patton’s hair with a trusty handful of peanut butter. By the end of the movie, the gum was out, Patton had calmed down a little, and Virgil sent him off to take a shower.

Patton came back from the shower a bit later, already in his pjs as Virgil set up for another movie. The night mostly went alright and Virgil was just getting to sleep at 2 in the morning when he heard Patton get you and shuffle over to his bed.

It was silent, Patton didn’t say anything and was turning back when Virgil spoke up.

“Pat?” Virgil whispered softly, grabbing his friend’s wrist.

Patton sniffled. “Yeah?”

“C’mere, you’re sleeping with me tonight.”

There was no hesitation for Patton and within seconds, he was shaking and sobbing into Virgil’s shirt. Virgil could do nothing but rub his back and let him cry. That seemed to be enough for Patton.

_____

“Hey Virgil, have you thought about joining GSA by any chance..?” Patton asked one day at lunch, taking a bite of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Virgil looked over to him before thinking, throwing his legs over Patton’s lap.

“Nah.”

“How come?”

“Just haven’t, you goof,” Virgil said, his eyebrow raised. “If you want an answer why I wouldn’t, it’s overrated if I’m not with you and I know you’re not planning on it.”

“But what if I did?”

“Do you?”

“... No.”

Virgil snorted and leaned over to kiss Patton’s forehead. “I have made the executive decision that this school’s gonna have a super exclusive GSA club, headed by the wonderful and responsible club president Patton Hart.”

“And who are the members of this club, Virge?” Patton asked, moving to snuggle into Virgil’s side.

“You and me, that’s all we need. Two gay as shit disasters, no one else matters in my opinion,” Virgil told him, resting his head against Patton’s while silence settled over them for a bit.

“What do we do at club meetings?”

“Talk about gay shit.”

“Does Logan count?”

“You bet your pining ass that Mandel counts.”

“Then Roman does too!”

“We’re gossiping basically then.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what’s happening.”

“Eh, fair enough.”

_____

Patton was currently playing video games with Virgil and as he fell off Rainbow Road, sighed.

“What’s up?” Virgil asked, still focused on the game.

“What do you mean?” Patton asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That was your pensive sigh, not your Virgil-is-kicking-my-ass-in-Mario-Kart sigh. So what’s up?” Virgil chuckled.

“You ever just... Realize that people suck?”

“They really do, screw ‘em if they can’t take a joke, am I right?” Virgil joked, finishing off the race.

“We should watch Mamma Mia, I hope you know what you’ve done,” Patton smiled, finishing the course too. “You’re even worse than Roman with the musical references sometimes!”

“You take that back!” Virgil exclaimed, tackling Patton to the couch, smacking him with a pillow.

Patton laughed loudly and pulled Virgil down on top of him, snuggling into his best friend.

Virgil’s heart melted and he hugged on to Patton tightly. “Dear god, you’re too cute for your own good, c’mere you cuddlebug,” he muttered, happy to feel Patton relax in his hold.

_____

“Soooooo lemme get this straight, Patton-“

“Good luck with that!” Patton giggled, causing Virgil to lightly push him with a snort.

“Shut up,” he said with no malice, kissing his friend’s hair. “You asked him to go over a bit of the math work you guys got assigned and he without prompt just asked you if you wanted to meet up for coffee to do so?”

“Yeeeeep!”

“Shut up you beautiful embodiment of sunshine and rainbows, you got a study date with Logan!!” Virgil shouted, shaking a very giggly Patton.

“It’s not much but it’s spending time with him, yeah? He’s still talking to me, even if it’s about school a lot of the time.. He could..” Patton paused, smiling to himself. “He could maybe be my friend, right? Do you think he would?”

“He’s not a complete blockhead like every single dumbass in this school, he’s gonna like you,” Virgil said with a smile, hugging Patton tighter in his lap.

“Well, as the Patton and Virgil GSA meeting demands, we must now hear from our resident emo about his blockhead!” Patton teased, kissing Virgil’s cheek.

Virgil laughed and hummed. “Good grief, who made you in charge?”

“You!”

“Oh that’s right, my mistake!” Virgil joked, receiving a punch to the arm. “Roman’s been doing a good job, had his whole script memorized today when most everyone else only had half. I just worked on the sets while they were rehearsing but he came over to talk with me when he didn’t have any more scenes. Still as stupid as I like ‘im though!”

“We clearly like two men at the opposite ends of the spectrum, huh?” Patton asked.

“Yep, absolutely. A total nerd and a moron. Strange combo. Think they’d get along?”

“Only one way to find out!” Patton hummed in a sing-song tone, offering half of his pasta to Virgil.

_____

Virgil glanced over to the front door of Logan’s house as Patton was revealed on the other side. Logan was quick to give Patton a kiss and greeted him.

“Wow, your house is really nice, Loggie!” Patton said, looking around.

“Patton!!!” a loud voice squealed from behind Virgil, Roman barreling towards Patton and Logan. He practically tackled Patton to the ground and Patton laughed loudly and fully. “I missed you so so so much! Never leave me alone for a single minute ever again!” Virgil’s boyfriend whined, hugging Patton tighter.

“Roman!” Patton laughed out, hugging back tighter. “I’m never going anywhere! You can’t make me leave, you’re stuck with me!”

“Mmm, perfect!” Roman exclaimed, picking Patton up to twirl him around.

As their antics continued, both of them talking excitedly about Patton’s job at the animal rescue center and Roman’s next show, Logan sat next to Virgil. Virgil watched his best friend and boyfriend talk excitedly for a bit, resting his head on Logan’s shoulder.

“You make him this happy you know,” Logan said quietly, wrapping his arm around Virgil’s shoulder.

“Dude, you’re his boyfriend,” Virgil retorted with a raised eyebrow.

Logan chuckled. “That I am. But you were his first and only friend for a long time. You’ve made him feel like he can take on the world just by being himself. It makes me very proud of the both of you.”

“I just treated him like a human being, you know?”

“Well, when you’ve been treated alien your whole life, it can make a world of difference for someone to see your humanity,” Logan explained, smiling a bit as Patton and Roman dragged Patton’s stuff in from his car.

Virgil smiled too as soon as Patton came back inside, still beaming with the force of a supernova. “He deserves every bit of humanity.”

Patton wasn’t treated well up until he was out of high school but looking at him now, Virgil knew all the fighting and arguments were worth it. Patton truly deserved everything the three of his friends could give him.

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Taglist: @virgils-paranoia, @marshmallow-the-panda, @anotheregofanficblog

#sanders sides #platonic moxiety #patton sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #background platonic lamp #background logicality #background prinxiety #stan writing

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danwhobrowses · 4 years

Text

One Piece Chapter 989 - Initial Thoughts

And we are back from yet another break as One Piece looks to ease into the big battle Hopefully we’re past most the breaks and can get a steady flow of new chapters

Spoilers for Chapter 989 - support the official release as well

We will start as we mostly do with Pound, and he’s got the most tightest of receipts to prove his parentage, will they believe it? Possibly not, depends if they remember how Big Mom looked young

Also, I keep on forgetting that young Big Mom could get it and why she has so many kids...

So unsurprisingly, Kaido’s men fear the wrath of BM after Franky put a wheel in her face, all the while Nami sucks up to Franky in gratitude

Look at Franky’s face though, looking away like ‘only Robin is allowed to stroke my face’, also Carrot in the background

Meanwhile as I noted last time, Yamato declaring themselves as Oden to Momo (and Shinobu) does not go down well. Luffy uses ‘she’ in this text but I feel like that may just be a fan mistranslation

Oda really likes drawing BM as creepy as he can doesn’t he?

I guess there’s a positive in this that Kaido’s inhibited men are no match for the alliance and samurai, but there is the worry that there’s only the challenging lot left, I don’t feel confident for Hyou against the Tobi Roppo (where did Ulti disappear to, she was fighting Yamato)

I also keep forgetting that BM has only met a fraction of Luffy’s crew, meeting Franky does fall in line with her interest in different races, but Franky has no time to flirt like Brook once did

The balls on Franky (when they’re not in Robin’s purse or her Grab) to aim right at BM though, he fears no yonko!

The Numbers crash in though, before I mention them BM looked like she was gonna pull up a meat shield with that Homie there

The Numbers do look a lot like Oars, turns out they’re ‘failed’ recreations? Given their laughs Go, Ja and Ji I’m guessing they laugh in their number value

Strange though, BM seemed completely unfazed by the fact that Kaido got ‘Failed’ Ancient Giants from Punk Hazard, which means they likely came from Ceasar, who was researching Gigantification...for Big Mom...I feel like we’re missing something in between here

Alas poor Usopp and Chopper, Usopp’s showdown with the giants looks like it’ll have to wait

I do feel like we may’ve overestimated the Numbers’ threat though, we’ve seen about half of them and so far one has just been destroyed by Franky’s Radical Beam. What happened to Apoo as well?

WHAT KIND OF GAINS IS JIMBEI ON? He just reverse judo flipped a Yonko 3-4 times his size mid-air!

And finally something for Robin, that’s a long-ass Delphinium to keep BM busy and dizzy...though if she were still Miss All Sunday the end point would be in the ocean for sure

Usopp’s in a bad way, until Fusion entices him back to life XD Luffy would too if he were there, I wonder how Yamato would react though given how Oda has often split the fusion’s reaction between genders

Sometimes I have to wonder about Queen you know? Here he is, standing on an empty execution platform, Luffy pops up and it turns out, Zoro’s been next to him all this time XD

Zoro doesn’t want the commanders though he wants a slice of that Dragon for himself!

Queen does soon get their act together, it must’ve been an impressive catch too since Luffy was using his Rocket

Is it me though, or did anyone else find it odd that Queen had Zoro and Luffy in his mouth, took one look at King and his army of flying SMILEs and decided to spit them out? Like you could’ve bit them in half, or just kept them trapped, that feels like either it’s intentional or a strategic mishap

Unsurprisingly, Sanji’s Raid Suit saved him from fatal damage against King, though it doesn’t look like they’ll renew things just yet

Hyou giving us some death flags though, looks like the Samurai plan to support the crew in the tower climb

But we get our full crew ‘Hero Shot’ (as the gif is a reference to), Sanji jumped out of that raid suit quickly didn’t he? And now seeing Robin’s full outfit I just...trust me, I have 0 problems with Robin’s thighs but if that kimono was any shorter it’d be a jacket, same with Nami’s really

Of course the hero shot is only the current Straw Hat crew too, Carrot seems to have shuffled away from the spotlight, another time maybe, we know she’s still fighting with the crew and not the minks

But looks like the whole crew do plan on confronting Kaido, they just have to get through King, Queen, 2 Numbers and the flying SMILEs

So the tower climb will begin. Interestingly we still are missing the visual of Inu and Neko’s Su Long transformation, the longer they wait it out the more worrisome it feels that the Minks are gonna be crushed. I do feel that a lot of people will be upset by Big Mom’s treatment again, but I think it makes sense a bit, the crew are not heavily damaging her after all, they’re basically keeping her at a distance so they’re not caught in her attacks. Her angered presence also made it handy to dispose of the fodder among Kaido’s ranks. What most intrigued me though was the characters that quickly went missing from last chapter. I know I keep track of the characters yet to appear (how will BM’s delphinium bode when Marco and Perospero arrive?) but this one is very strange; Zeus and Prometheus disappeared from that one attack, we only saw Napoleon, likewise Ulti just up and disappeared too, is she chasing Yamato down? I hope so but of course there are still those other players in the game, does Hyou encounter a Tobi Roppo I wonder? or will that fall mainly on Yamato, Shinobu and Momo. As for the crew I’m happy to hear that taking Kaido is at least planned to be a group effort, we’ll see how it goes in practice without another week break this time around

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douchebagbrainwaves · 3 years

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EVERY FOUNDER SHOULD KNOW ABOUT CONTACT

There was no protection against breakage except the fear of looking bad than by the hope of getting millions of dollars, and you get. Because few of us know any alternative, we have no idea what our average returns might be, and won't know for years. And it can last for months. The language offers abstractions only as a way to get a big program is to start with. The problem is the real one. Treat the first few months comforted ourselves by treating the whole thing onto the shoulders of a big company, it's good news. Actually I was being conservative. When Mark spoke at a YC dinner this winter he said he wasn't trying to start a startup.1 Whereas fundraising, when you're in a very strong position, you not only won't get that but won't get anything.2 But at least you know where these facial expressions come from.

Startup funding meant series A rounds.3 In phase 2, on top of whatever you sold in phase 1. What this means in practice is that they are compulsive negotiators who will suck up a lot of new software, because you're paying for the hardware, just as we can become wiser.4 What nerds like is other nerds.5 Often as not a startup at all.6 Maybe some aspects of professionalism are actually a net lose. Perhaps it's in the sweet spot midway between. TV.

So let that satisfy your competitiveness. Two years from now, you'll be able to use their control of the desktop to prevent, or constrain, this new generation of software?7 I wouldn't claim it's painless.8 So I recommend being good. His mom probably has it on the fridge.9 In the process we may decrease economic inequality. Convergence is probably coming, but where? The conventional wisdom in the Lisp world is that the first problem is the same reason they had to work at another job to make money.

You can't blame kids for thinking I am not like these people; I am not like these people; I am not like these people; I am not suited to this world.10 The key stage is when they're three guys operating out of an apartment, and a Web browser. Ignoring any trend that has been operating for thousands of years is dangerous. The best investors are also the most liberal. The language is built in layers.11 It took me years to grasp that. There are ideas that obvious lying around now.12 If one woodworker makes 5 chairs and another makes none, the second seems as strong as ever.13 The floors are constantly being swept clean of any loose objects that might later get stuck in something.

That's how the two are only loosely coupled.14 If you try writing Web-based applications. If you take a boring job to give your family a high standard of living, as so many people do, you don't have to force yourself to work, just as there was in the early days of microcomputers. With Web-based software will be less stressful.15 Prestige is especially dangerous to the ambitious. Tell yourself you can be in close contact with support. They say they're going to work on your projects, he can work wherever he wants on projects of his own. When you can ask the opinions of people you don't even know?

If everyone's filters have different probabilities, it will be, for users and developers both. The problem is that once you start raising money, but also connotations like formality and detachment. Hardware is free now, if your software is reasonably efficient.16 I'm an investor, the deal flow, as they were with desktop computers. You can usually call their bluff, and you willingly give him money in return for it.17 And yet all those people have to make a language that might go away, as so many programming languages do.18 Languages are for programmers, and libraries are what programmers need. The list of what you want in a startup hub. You can use whichever is best for each. Some such investors have value, but the curve is just as bad. In How to Become a Hacker, Eric Raymond describes Lisp as something like Latin or Greek—a charming college town with perfect weather and San Francisco only an hour away.

Notes

Com/spam. Again, hard work.

This is actually from the most demanding but also the fashion leaders.

Parker, William R. Digg is Slashdot with voting instead of a city's potential as a process rather than given by other people the freedom to they derive the same trick of enriching himself at the outset which founders will seem to be promising. If an investor pushes you hard to grasp this than we realize, because for times over a hundred and one or two, and since you can hire skilled people to claim retroactively I said yes.

Robert in particular. And it's particularly damaging when these investors flake, because at one point in the 1990s, and as we think. I've omitted one source: government grants. Record labels, for the next round.

If they want. The second biggest regret was caring so much on the scale that has a similar logic, one variant of the accumulator generator in other Lisp dialects: Here's an example of a running back doesn't translate to soccer. The Price of Inequality. There are people whose applications are perfect in every way, because they believe they do, so that you have to put it this way.

The problem with most of the kleptocracies that formerly dominated all the mistakes you made. More often you have to solve a lot of reasons American car companies, summer jobs are the usual way of calculating real income, they have to give up more than that total abstinence is the proper test of intelligence or wisdom. They assumed that their experience so far has trained them to get fossilized. The point where things start to rise again.

And say that's not the type who would make good angel investors.

I preferred to work like casual conversation. Stone, op. Default: 2 cups water per cup of rice. I don't know enough about big markets, why is New York, but that's what they really mean, in both Greece and China, many of the words we use have a browser and get pushed down by new arrivals.

This is a flaw here I should add that none who read this to users than where you wanted to than because they have because they had that we wouldn't have. After a bruising fight he escaped with a company, and Fred Wilson for reading drafts of this model was that professionalism had replaced money as a company grew at 1% a week for 19 years, it causes a fundamental economic shift away from large companies.

I became an employer, I mean type I startups. If Ron Conway, for example, probably did more drugs in his early twenties. If you have to go deeper into the work of selection.

Progressive tax rates will tend to get the people who get rich by creating wealth—wealth that, go talk to mediocre ones. Never attribute to malice what can be said to have invented.

27 with the founders lots of potential winners, from which they don't.

When he wanted to. Yes, I suspect the recent resurgence of evangelical Christians. Sofbot. The person who understands how to be tweaking stuff till it's yanked out of just doing things, you may as well.

Giant tax loopholes are definitely not a promising lead and should in some ways First Round Capital is closer to a later investor trying to meet people; I was genuinely worried that Airbnb, for example, if the growth is valuable, because a she is very polite and b the local builders built everything in it. Where Do College English 28 1966-67, pp. I remember are famous flops like the difference between us and the super-angels. I was not in the US since the mid 1980s.

A scientist isn't committed to rejecting it.

See Greenspun's Tenth Rule.

I realize this sounds like something cooked up, but the distribution of good startups that get funded this way is basically zero.

Most employee agreements say that intelligence doesn't matter in startups. I agree and in fact the decade preceding the war, tax rates, which has been decreasing globally. We didn't try to make money for the same work, but that they either have a bogus political agenda or are feebly executed.

Thanks to Trevor Blackwell, Marc Andreessen, Robert Morris, and Jessica Livingston for the lulz.

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beardycarrot · 4 years

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I fully recommend buying any game for the nine cents (well, nine Club Nintendo gold points) I paid for Elliot Quest. Any game, that is... except Elliot Quest.

This game feels like it should be a home run. It’s an indie metroidvania with an overworld inspired by The Adventure of Link, complete with several distinct areas, a couple of towns, and roaming enemies that lead you to little battle stages. Elliot Quest feels like it was specifically designed for Zelda 2 fans, expanding on basically all of the elements in that game and adding a more in-depth RPG-style progression system. Unfortunately, just like something from the NES era, it’s tough as nails... and suffers because of it.

Well. I suffered because of it, anyway.

As you defeat enemies, you earn experience points, and once you’ve leveled up you earn a skill point that you can put into one of five attributes. These unlock things like the ability to fire arrows (your standard attack) farther or more quickly, the chance for a heart to replenish twice as much health, and automatic regeneration of your magic meter. This is all incredibly helpful... but you earn XP painfully slowly, and when you die or fall down a bottomless pit, you lose a big chunk of it. You can never go down a level, but it’s disheartening to find yourself locked into a difficult platforming section, failing over and over, and seeing your XP bar being completely depleted.

I feel like I’m not properly conveying how frustrating this is... every time you die, you lose several dozen enemies’ worth of experience, and when you respawn at the last save point you passed, it’s re-activated and saves automatically. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve died, quit to the Switch home screen, then closed and re-opened the game just to prevent myself from losing experience. I’d be shocked if it was under fifty. That’s how severe of a punishment this is.

Ahem. The spells and items you collect are well-utilized, for the most part... but a fireball that can light torches, an ice ball that can freeze enemies, and literally just a rock that you throw and bounces around a bit aren’t exactly the pinnacle of innovation. I do like the tornado spell, though... You can use it to draw items towards you, suck in small flying enemies and projectiles, and, for some reason... quickly travel across hedgerows that are floating in mid-air? Yeah, I dunno man.

The game does have a few things going for it. The art is okay, if a bit static (for some reason, all of the screenshots I took happen to be some shade of brown), and the level layouts aren’t terrible. You’ll occasionally find areas that connect to an area you’ve been through before, allowing you to create shortcuts... but the only points of reference any of the area maps give are your current location and the location of the boss room, so it’s easy to get lost. It’s also a huge pain in the butt just to get around the world map, even with shortcuts, as the only fast travel is an expensive item that warps you to one of the towns.

The game has a couple references to the games that inspired it, which is always a nice touch. In the screenshot above, you can (kinda) see a Chozo statue from Super Metroid, and at one point there’s a lone statue in a long room full of columns right at the start of a dungeon. I shot the statue in the head, because I’m kind of a nerd and you get a free potion by doing the same thing in a similar section of Zelda 2... and wouldn’t you know it, the statue dropped a potion.

The story is... eh? Throughout the game you’ll get a handful of flashbacks to Elliot mourning his wife, who was killed by some kind of entity called the Satar... you’re never really given specifics. It’s also revealed that Elliot tried to kill himself but can’t die, resurrected by the last blue-eyed statue (save point) to see him. He also talks to Rasa, a character implied to be important but who I only ever saw in these flackbacks. Aside from a hooded rogue trying to get you to join sides with him a few times, that’s pretty much all there is to the story... nothing ever really happens in real time, you just get flashbacks to this one scene where Elliot mourned his wife, jumped off a cliff, and talked to Rasa.

There seems to be a morality system in the game... presumably you can be considered to be good or evil, but in my playthrough, it never moved from Neutral. It feels like there are a few things you could do to affect it... for example, early on you have the choice to keep a useful item or return it to its owner... I returned it, but you could also just never talk to them, and the moral dilemma would never present itself. Joining forces with the rogue or disobeying the wishes of a goddess would probably affect it as well, and maybe there are different endings depending on your alignment, but as far as I can tell this feature doesn’t really add anything to the game.

The final boss was an... interesting, experience for me. On my first attempt, he executed a well-telegraphed move that would obviously kill me instantly, but I flubbed a jump and ended up smooshed between two huge stone blocks. On my second attempt, I started the fight by jumping and firing off two arrows, both of which missed the target... and the boss just immediately collapsed. I was wary, unsure what kind of attack this was, and inched towards him... only to find that he was defeated after taking zero damage, and I had beaten the game. Huh.

I really have no idea what happened there. Did I happen to pull off the correct series of button presses to enter a debug cheat to instantly kill the boss? Did I shoot an arrow into the perfect spot at the perfect time while his hitbox was spawning and it built up enough damage that he went down in under a second? Really, nothing I can think of makes much sense... but hey, I just wanted to check the game off of my Backloggery and be done with it as quickly and frustration-free as possible, so I’m not complaining.

Also, I just realized... the enemy from this official art for the game? Which I’ve seen dozens and dozens of times as I’ve tried to avoid draining my XP bar because the artwork is used as the home screen image for the game? Yeah, that enemy isn’t the Satar. I’ve always assumed it was, but now that I’ve finished the game, I recognize it as... just a normal enemy from a couple late-game areas. Not an important character, not a boss or mini-boss, not even a common enemy you see all throughout the game... just a random spear-throwing knight you see four or five times. Weird.

#elliot quest #metroidvania

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bmoviedragonsreloaded · 4 years

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Review: The Russian Specialist (2005)

"Oh Christ, whoever you are, take whatever you want – I'm going to bed"

SOURCE

When Dolph Lundgren began directing his own vehicles in the mid-2000s, I thought it was a big deal. After Seagal and Van Damme fell short with their own directorial debuts a decade earlier, the Swedish Superman’s more economic outings in the video realm seemed like the stabler path for a western action hero to redefine himself as a filmmaker. I never assumed that Dolph would be our answer to Sammo Hung or Jackie Chan, but I still think that the surest way for the classic style of karate B-movies to survive the future is for the stars of yesterday today to become the filmmakers of tomorrow. Disappointingly, Lundgren’s sophomore outing is indistinguishable from the slew of already-undistinguished movies put out by the Nu Image film studio around this time. Expect cliches and limited action in a drab European setting, with some highlights.

The story: Former special forces agent Nikolai Cherenko (Lundgren) is hired to rescue a young woman (Olivia Lee) from the clutches of the same gangster who killed his family (Ivan Petrushinov).

I need to talk about Lundgren’s effort as a filmmaker before anything else. While his directorial debut (The Defender) happened by accident, The Russian Specialist seems to have been his project from the start. It was the first movie he wrote the story for, and there’s a general feeling of investment here not present in the features he’d recently done. That said, the film looks so very much like countless others the studio was producing that I suspect there was a lot of executive meddling afoot. Lundgren has a fair hand for interesting shots and artful cinematography, but they’re lost amid the cheap overexposure, senseless slow motion, and annoyingly sped-up footage. The Bulgarian shooting locations further stifle the originality, with everything looking colorless and boring. Say what you want about Seagal’s On Deadly Ground and JCVD’s The Quest, but at least they left an immediate impression.

Of course, taking a closer look at what may seem bland and unremarkable to others is what we do here at B-Movie Dragons, and sure enough, there are some things that make this one stand out. The best of these, without a doubt, is the casting of Ben Cross. He plays Nikolai’s contact and de facto partner, and darn if he isn’t better than this movie deserves. Cross is up there with Lance Henriksen and John Rhys-Davies as an actor possessing both talent and prestige yet who never fails to offer his time to smaller productions. You may know him for playing Spock’s father in the Star Trek reboot or starring in the Oscar-winning Chariots of Fire, but he also pops up in trash like Species: The Awakening and the odd Dolph Lundgren actioner. Here, at his best, he’s absolutely hilarious and certainly gets the best lines. (“From one old dog to another – shut the fuck up!” he admonishes a noisy German shepherd.) He’s got surprisingly good chemistry with the monosyllabic Lundgren, giving Nikolai’s stereotypical somberness some contrasted weight. Disappointingly, Cross is about it as far as standout performances go. Even though the cast includes several award-winning Bulgarian actors, these have either too little screentime or insufficient material to be memorable. Comedienne Olivia Lee feels particularly underutilized, her character having very little personality and she even less opportunity to express it. (There is an unintentionally funny moment where Nikolai’s handed a photo of her, and it’s the exact same headshot you can find on her IMDb page to this day.)

The action content is good enough that I’m disappointed there’s not more. It’s a decent mix of shootouts, vehicle stunts, and fighting. Lundgren was apprehensive to commit to hand-to-hand action scenes even before he started directing, and as a result, we only get a single match between him and a henchman in a strip club. It’s not even the lead henchman (Raicho Vasilev) – Ben Cross has to fight him during the climax. There’s a gnarly-looking crash into a fountain during a motorcycle chase, and a couple shootouts feature some well-executed choreography. If there were just a few more scenes like this, I would’ve been more satisfied. It’s understandable that Lundgren wasn’t nearly as flexible to shoot action scenes while he was directing all other scenes across multiple countries, but even the bandaid solution of giving his character a team of four mercenaries doesn’t help because they don’t do anything cool.

I’m not entirely sure what the point of the story is. Nikolai clearly must come to terms with his trauma and Lundgren delivers some respectable nonverbal acting to that end, but we don’t find out too much about his mental state and I’m not even convinced that he establishes genuine relationships with anyone. With the exception of one scene, Olivia Lee’s character is also unable to express her feelings. Ben Cross seemingly overcomes his alcoholism by the end, but I’m not sure how. The general thesis is likewise elusive. Lee’s character is being groomed as a sex slave and sex workers in general are protrayed sympathetically, but I’m not even convinced that the film stands behind the most basic notion of “sex trafficking is bad” because it still indulges in some masturbation fodder within the same context. I’m not saying the story sucks, just that it doesn’t commit to much.

Lundgren’s progress as a filmmaker was halted for a long time after he recaptured some of his old stardom with 2010’s The Expendables, but he seems to be returning to the director’s chair these days. If he remains free from the restrictions that made The Russian Specialist so unremarkable, he may yet become a valuable force in maintaining the gritty, physical style of action we know and love. As for this particular film, it’s probably best viewed as a decent but ultimately elementary exercise in the big guy’s movie-making education. Dolph’s biggest fans shouldn’t be without it, but it’s harder to recommend to more casual action devotees. Martial arts nuts like me shouldn’t even bother.

SOURCE

The Russian Specialist (AKA The Mechanik) (2005) Directed by Dolph Lundgren Written by Bryan Edward Hill (screenplay), Dolph Lundgren (story) Starring Dolph Lundgren, Ben Cross, Ivan Petrushinov (Longing for the Wide, Wide World), Olivia Lee (The Olivia Lee Show) Cool cast: Bulgarian stunt pro Raicho Vasilev (Spartacus) plays the lead henchmen. Action regulars Valeri Yordanov (Death Race 4) and Dejan Angelov (Leatherface) are mercenaries. Pop star Maria Ilieva plays the doomed, sympathetic sex worker Natalya. Second unit director Mark Roper was already a director proper, having helmed video and TV vehicles for Bryan Genesse, Joe Lara and Ralf Moeller. Fight consultant and karate master Barry Evans would henceforth be Dolph Lundgren’s personal choreograher for the next ten years. Content warning: Violence against women, child murder, sex trafficking, sexual assault, drug use, extreme violence and gore, alcoholism Title refers to: Both the title on the DVD case (The Russian Specialist) and the one in the movie (The Mechanik) refer to Dolph Lundgren’s character, who’s both a Russian specialist (i.e. special ops) and a mechanic. Cover accuracy: The classic cover, featuring a shotgun-toting Lundgren standing before the gangsters with Russian architecture in the background, is accurate and to the point. The newer cover with starker contrasts and a close-up of Lundgren is also accurate but conveys a comic book aesthetic that the movie doesn’t have. Number of full-length fight scenes: 2 Copyright Millennium Films / Sony Pictures Home Entertainment

#film review #film criticism #the russian specialist #the mechanik #dolph lundgren #ben cross #ivan petrushinov #olivia lee #action #martial arts

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ask-corvo · 5 years

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I drew a scene from an RP we had with @dishonwhored .

I might upload it one day to AO3 but for now, you can read it here. Or click on “Read More”.

My Website and Commission Info.

Daud already lost count of how many nights he had to spend out on the rooftops soaking in rainwater just to clean up some messes and tie up loose ends. Daud was a man of circumstance but he was not a man of chance; everything had to be executed in a way that didn't leave much wiggle room for things such as misfortune to interfere with his plans. There was no such thing as bad luck. Only miscalculations.

One such miscalculation was the fact one of his men stationed across the city of Dunwall was caught and apprehended by the Abbey of the Everyman. That of course meant being tortured or killed on the spot, and Daud knew that each Whaler had the fear of death trained out of them; they'd rather die than betray their Master. Because of course they would. But Daud wasn't as cruel as to completely ignore his men when they are in need of his help. And so he stalked the religious lunatics until he had located the stray Whaler. Poor bastard was the only one left of that particular patrol group.

Daud crouched down, still a safe enough distance away from the wailing and screeching of the Overseers' music box, but it reached his ears regardless and gave him a slight headache. He always hated dealing with those. Life was easier before the Abbey figured out how to tinker with machinery. Sometimes he swore they didn't even know how to prepare the most basic meal. The assassin counted the amount of heads that need to roll through his eyepiece and exhaled, rainwater dripping down his pursed lips. He wanted to get this over with quickly and go back home.

Sliding from the tiled rooftop down onto a nearby balcony Daud transversed around the dimly lit alley until he found a good enough vantage point from which he would take down the bastard with the music box that was now scrambling his brain like eggs. He had to be precise and grit his teeth through the pain though because it will do neither him nor his Whaler any good if they'd both end up captured or dead, all because of this idiot cranking a cog wheel. Daud decided to take a direct approach instead of a stealthy one. Maybe it was impatience and irritation that drove him this time but he got the job done regardless, coming up behind the Overseer with the box and effortlessly snapping his neck before the others even managed to draw their swords. Once the box ceased emitting its headsplitting chime Daud had quickly cut through the remaining Overseers with a few transversals and swift hands.

He didn't waste too much time getting to free his captured underling, merely muttering some chastising words and ordering the man back home. He'll deal with this mishap later. All he knew for now is that the Overseers were dead and he could breathe easy, if only for a moment.

Teague was watching from the shadows as the Knife of Dunwall cut through the Overseers moments after the mind-numbing music ceased in its play.

From the very beginning, he's told the men to keep guard and interrogate the assassin quickly, but if you wanted something done right, you cannot trust anyone to do it but yourself. At the same time, Teague needed not answers from a mere assassin when Daud was there right in front of his eyes. His mismatching hues didn't detach from the older man when Snow shifted in his position, ready to pounce.

Every muscle in his body was tense and ready to act just like the wolfhound by his side. No other Overseer would have the chance to take Daud down. It had to be him. And he had to have some questions answered now. There wouldn't be another perfect opportunity as such.

Go for the masked one. Teague ordered, and Snow dashed for his target, while he was to draw his sword and sprint at the red-coated Whaler.

All it took is a fraction of a second for Daud to turn sharply and face the oncoming threat. The rain obscured their assailant's footsteps and he had hoped the Overseers' wolfhounds would have a harder time tracking his scent in this weather, but one was charging right at them, white as snow, with its owner right behind him.

Daud's body acted on instinct. He stepped right in front of the wolfhound's maw and shielded the Whaler with his gloved arm, allowing the hound to latch onto him instead. Not a particularly wise move considering he momentarily compromised his sword arm while there was another person sprinting towards the Knife with his own sword drawn, but seeing as his left hand was free, Daud raised it and time stopped altogether, raindrops suspended in the air surrounding them.

But that was about all he managed to stop besides the hound. The other man was still moving in his direction with all intent to strike. All Daud managed to do was buy himself a few extra seconds to free his right arm from the hound's clutches and ready himself for whoever this bastard was.

One of Teague's suspicions was confirmed. With it, was another.

The first one being if the Knife was truly marked by the Outsider just as he, the other that he was capable of playing with time. It was a silly speculation in a sense, as there was no other way a man would decapitate, butcher so many people and disappear from the scene before any of the bodies would hit the ground.

With his very own mark on the back of his hand, it was barely any inconvenience. However the moment Teague noticed Snow was affected, he's reached out to him with his left hand - the purple mark glowing brightly against the dull scene and in the blink of an eye the two switched their positions. Snow was now mid-air as he was when Daud shoved him off and Teague in his place up close with the Big Knife, slashing their blades together.

Daud was caught completely off guard when the dog and its owner switched places in the blink of an eye. Daud reacted fast, albeit staggering in place a bit and briefly losing his footing, by blocking the other's sword with his own, the sound of metal clashing with metal piercing his ears like gunfire. It forced him to refocus on what was happening.

They both had someone to lose in this fight, and Teague had no intention of having his companion and friend hurt just as Daud wouldn't let him land a blow on his assassin.

It was fine, he figured. Daud was the one he wanted anyway.

His body already felt weird in this time-capsule, without the voice of Snow in his head, without his ever-present companion by his side. The only times they were obscured from each other so were when the music boxes grit in their ears.

No, he wouldn't aim for the assassin. He would pay him no mind. Snow would take care of him if he'd dare try anything; he knew. This would be a fair fight.

This man was an Overseer, no doubt. He had the Abbey's insignia plastered all over him and carried their assortment of weapons. But he was also marked, and dressed way different than his brethren. Was he truly on the Abbey's beck and call? Or was this a mockery of their doctrine, a facade worn by a mercenary to tease and humiliate?

Daud grit his teeth and glared directly into the supposed Overseer's mismatching eyes, one as black as the void itself and the other a contrasting violet. He planted both feet firmly onto the cobblestone floor and pushed the man back just as time resumed and with it the roaring rainfall and the hound's pained cry.

The Whaler quickly got up on his feet and drew his sword despite his confusion. Daud ordered him home, but it was before they were assaulted; he figured Daud would forgive some slight misdemeanor if it was for a good cause. They were both on the same exact boat though.

Neither knew who this man was or why he wanted Daud's head on a stake so badly.

Teague took three steps back after being repelled, protecting Snow with his body while the wolfhound landed behind him and snarled. His fur was heavy from the rainwater like the fabric of Teague's trimmed uniform. His sword was raised on his shoulder level, tilted sideways while his left hand was on his hip's level, the glowing mark turned to face the two heretics.

Snow?

I'm alright...

The wolfhound licked at his bared teeth and gave a shake to his coat, though he got soaked once again almost immediately. The rain was loud, almost louder than Teague's heart beating in his ears as he scanned Daud with a quick glance.

He was taller than him, and possibly heavier too. But Teague was flexible, and a sword wasn't his favorite tool for battle - so he was more than ready to engage with just his body at the Knife. Sucking in the cold morning's air, the marked Overseer bent his knees ever so slightly, similarly to his tense wolfhound. His mark had a dim glow to it, and so did Snow's purple eye.

"You look a little shocked, my dear Daud."

Daud retained the same position as the Overseer did; ready, tense, defensive, but most importantly viciously protective of the Whaler behind him, similarly to how the Overseer shielded his hound with his body. Neither was willing to sacrifice their companion, human or not. Daud obviously didn't give it much thought at the moment and he probably wouldn't at all, but the Whaler was thankful. His Master - as calculating as he may be - often resorted to the bare fight-or-flight response comprised purely of instinct, and like a wolf, one of those instincts was to protect his pack.

The Whaler composed himself and glanced at his Master, tilting his head slightly while attempting to decypher Daud's expression. He did not dare speak, and simply waited to be given orders. For now, though, while the Knife remained silent, the Whaler stood still.

Daud on the other hand had his eyes transfixed onto the Overseer, hardly even acknowledging the hound. He studied the other's features, body language, attire; wracking his brain for the best assessment he could make at the moment in an attempt to understand what he was up against. The Overseer was slimmer and lighter in weight but he was agile. He worked in perfect coordination with his canine companion which Daud found to be bizarre; no matter how well you bonded with an animal it was still an animal, unable to understand you beyond some trained vocal cues. Daud had to acknowledge the hound now as a threat equal to the Overseer if they were so well-synchronized.

At long last the assassin spoke, tightening his grip on the hilt of his sword. "Who are you? I would have hoped to hear of a Void-touched Overseer before I got to meet him face to face."

Teague chuckled, but his expression remained unchanged. It almost appeared as the wolfhound by his side made a similar sound in reaction to Daud's words, before he was to shake his coat a second time and snarl.

The Abbey of the Everyman was trying to keep him hidden from the public eye for reasons quite obvious. It was not in their wish to flaunt with the weapon they have in their hands. Approved by the High Overseer or not, a heretic was a heretic and they didn't want to give anyone the wrong idea.

Back in Morley, his fellow Overseers have gotten used to him, Snow, and their complicated relationship. But here in Dunwall things were a little different - what with the rat plague, everyone was on edge more than the usual. In a way, he couldn't wait to be finished here and return to the place he could call home, along the people he could call family.

Those Overseers in Dunwall were twisted by something.

Maybe it was because of their closeness with the High Overseer...

"I like to keep to myself, unlike you. You're Daud, the Knife of Dunwall who no one else would survive an encounter with to tell the tale. It is quite the name you've made for yourself; I would like knowing I made this place safer once you perish and return to the black-eyed bastard."

Daud sneered and scoffed in response to the Overseer's taunts. Sure, he may be marked, but Daud was confident that he'll be the one leaving back home in one piece. He did so for decades after all. How would a marked Overseer be any different from his contracts? He was simply a target that could put up a fight, but a fight Daud would win. Or at least that's what he hoped for.

"Having a reputation helps, sometimes. Most people understand fear better than they'd understand respect." Daud didn't remove his gaze from the Overseer and kept glaring daggers at him as he spoke. "The Abbey of the Everyman is no different from me in that regard."

"Their time too will come." Teague immediately replied, twirling the blade in his hand. The Abbey and the High Overseer will be dealt with eventually, he knew. If not by him; then by the Spymaster and the Empress. Coming from Morley he heard his fair share of talk about Jessamine Kaldwin, and the first-ever official Spymaster on her side.

He might have been resentful for the Kaldwin family, but she was no fool. If the High Overseer was truly suspicious; she and her "Royals" would sniff him out eventually. Teague only had only one purpose currently, and it was to find the cause for the rat plague and eliminate it.

The man who held the city trembling in its place with a chain of faceless assassins would be a good gamble to begin with.

"If you were to assist me in my mission, I would perhaps look the other way - just today." He remained still and tense. "I've heard enough about you to know you're always hungry for knowledge."

"Oh, am I now." Daud made sure the cynicism in his voice was apparent and clear. The Whaler behind him had to muster all of his willpower to stifle his laughter. He only made a faint noise barely audible through the pouring rain, biting his lip beneath the mask. Daud only spared a fraction of a glance at his direction before refocusing on the Overseer.

If Daud understood correctly, he thought, then the strange man was the Abbey's secret weapon against people such as himself. Witches and heretics that were being publicly persecuted, sometimes through baseless accusations and mere cruelty or boredom. If the Abbey employed a so called heretic to flush out the others then they really were desperate. It made sense given the state Dunwall was in, but Daud couldn't help but wonder if the decision to fight fire with fire was made by the Empress herself or by the High Overseer, independently of Jessamine Kaldwin's decrees. Her so called Royal Spymaster could also have been involved in this.

What a disaster.

"You should have also heard, then, that I'm not exactly the Abbey's best friend." Daud added to his previous remark with a slight frown. "Why should I assist you or them? What's the catch?"

"I want to leave this wretched city and return and return to the place where I belong. Luckily for the both of us; that place isn't Gristol."

Teague didn't have an accent to him, and the Void altered his apperance enough to make him almost appear Tyvian, but in reality he didn't care if the Knife of Dunwall knew where he was from. He just needed to know that it's far.

What he didn't need to know, is that Teague planned on eliminating him whether he was tied to this mess. Just not now. The rat plague was killing more than Daud would, and unlike the Big Knife; the plague wasn't selective.

The plague took the good and the poor before it took the rich and cunning. It needed to be eliminated first.

"The sooner matters are taken care of, the earlier my departure would be - and so also your trouble with me. I cannot speak for the Abbey however, those fanatics are a hivemind as you probably know; I would truly hate to be responsible for them." He hissed, then clicked his tongue. "I know you have a rich taste for coin but I have none. Maybe knowing that your precious gentlemen won't drop like flies to the plague would be enough?"

"I'll take my chances." Daud snapped back at the Overseer almost as soon as he uttered the last syllable to his response. "If there will be no nobles left to kill in Dunwall then we will simply migrate elsewhere. There isn't a shortage of them - or coin - in places beyond this wretched city." The Knife's answer was definite and left no room for negotiation; he did not trust the Overseer no matter how much he cursed the Abbey. It might as well have been a script, or a bluff, that he rehearsed or made up on the spot to win Daud over. But it'll take much more than pretty words to convince him to work alongside an Overseer. Some of his men were former Overseers gone rogue, sure. But it took them way longer to earn Daud's trust than it took the rest.

As Daud was preparing himself for either battle or retreat, the Whaler behind him broke his silence for the first time in this conversation. He cleared his throat, as if to be polite, and crossed his hands behind his back. "I think it's worth considering his offer, Master. We're running short on medicine and food as it is, and the rat plague isn't making it any easier for us to find work, or even merchants to sell us those supplies, since they've been- well- dying one by one."

The Whaler spoke monotonously and didn't exhibit much emotion if any in his voice, but that jab at the end made Daud turn his glare onto his own disciple next. In a sense he was correct; they have been struggling to stay afloat ever since the plague hit, especially when their turf was now being swarmed with the afflicted- Weepers they called them- as well as infected rats and insects. Business wasn't exactly booming and it wouldn't be the first time he overheard his men complaining about his decision to remain rooted in Dunwall. This one simply did it directly.

Daud took a deep breath and filled his lungs with cold air, running his tongue over his teeth in slight irritation, but reconsidering his answer nonetheless. He looked back at the Overseer and rolled his shoulders restlessly, forming a tight fist with his marked hand before relaxing his muscles and opening it back up. He had to swallow at least some of his pride in order to give in, albeit only partially.

"Fine." Daud almost groaned his answer as if it physically pained him to speak it. "But I think we're both aware that you can't fully guarantee my men's safety, let alone their health."

Daud lowered his weapon but didn't sheath it. He wanted to show that he's willing to cease his hostility but not lower his guard.

"There are other ways you could repay me. Like stealing from the Abbey you claim to hate so much, perhaps." Daud shrugged. "Surely you wouldn't mind handing me coin that isn't necessarily yours, correct? You would be doing good by robbing them of their gold."

Teague, as if mimicking the taller man's behavior, slowly was too lowering his armed hand, the tip of his blade still pointed at Daud's chest. The dim glow coming from his mark ceased as he raised it to smooth his wet hair back, the mismatchcing eyes refusing to look away from the two targets.

"Of course, this would be a lovely idea. I'll consider it once I figure out where Campbell stashes his treasures." He was sarcastic, but also bitter. The High Overseer was supposed to be an example, and live as he preached. Instead he was pampered and treated like the Lord Protector himself; that was nothing the Abbey believed in. "But wouldn't they like to blame the heretic once things start disappearing?"

Teague tilted his head back to sweep his hair one more time, and then idly swayed his hip. The wet fabric only got tighter around his body with the weight of the rain, sticking to his inner thighs and exposing shiny pale skin.

His eyes turned momentarily to the Whaler mask before they were to return to Daud, and then to his side towards the music box resting on the still chest of his fellow Overseer. He stepped towards the horrible machine and raised a boot to step on it, to crush that thing to ensure it would neve be singing again.

"There's other things that could benefit you but coin, Daud. Stopping the plague seems like a hassle, but it could save you expenses, manpower, and eventually -" He grunted. That scrap metal was sturdy. "- We can talk about material goods as well."

Daud stepped away from the Overseer and the music box, wary of both. The Whaler followed suit, but he was admittedly less tense than his Master was. He didn't really care if he'd die of the plague or not; he would rather live, of course, but if he had to die while serving his Master, then he wouldn't put up resistance. He lowered his head and stared at the wet cobblestone paving the street. He hoped he didn't just get them in more trouble than they were already in.

When he was at a comfortable enough distance from the Overseer and his hound, Daud allowed himself to sheath his sword, and with his now free hands he crossed his arms over his chest. "I would take a day or two to reconsider whose side I should be on if I were you. I'm sure you know the Abbey only sees you as a tool. A means to an end." Daud spoke matter-of-factly but with no real concern for the Overseer's fate or wellbeing. Just because they were both marked didn't make them friends.

"All I'm saying's that I'd put my wages elsewhere."

It took some effort, but after having crushed the music box into the ground through the crushed ribs and spine of the Overseer below it Teague could be sure it wouldn't be used again. He turned his head to glance at Snow - which sat attached to his grounded leg - and turned to face Daud once again. His eyes went back to the Whaler moments later.

"I was born to be a tool to men, and so will I leave this world. I am a toy for the black-eyed boy, an object and weapon for the Abbey, and a sack of coin for the Knife of Dunwall." He snarled, almost if he were the dog inbetween the duo. "I'm not on their side. Blind, lunatic mutts, that's what they are - the Abbey long forgotten what it truly stood for and worshipped -" Teague cut himself off in the middle, scoffing. "But you don't care."

He shook his head and inhaled, the cold air soothing him.

"You're busy blindly following a dead boy, with blind followers of your own." He sneered. "Let's just stick to business and not try converting me."

Daud listened to the Overseer's rant stonefaced but he had to admit that he did feel sorry for the man. It seemed like he was completely aware of his predicament but accepted that he's powerless to do anything to change it, or, alternatively, figured that fighting back would be worse than simply gritting his teeth and letting things go as they do. Judging by the Overseer's clothes Daud could only imagine what other "uses" this man had and what other nuances the word "toy" carried. It made him nauseous. A good portion of his own men used to serve as slaves for such depravity until Daud either freed them or they begged to be taken in. But none of it showed on his features. He remained as still and stoic as before.

"The life my men were granted is far better than the one they had before joining my ranks." Daud said flatly. "You're free to criticize me all you want. Really, go ahead." He gestured at the Overseer with a theatrical wave of his hand. "But whatever it is you think you know about me better be laid to rest. You don't know jack shit."

Daud spat that last bit with venom in his voice. It made the Whaler raise his head and look at him once more. He was concerned, but knew better than to step in front of his Master's temper. He tensed up a little but still stood quiet.

"If this is how it's going to be then we really are better off just sticking to business." Daud turned on his heel to leave, and his Whaler remained rooted in place for a moment, stunned, but quickly followed after regaining his composure.

"I'll send one of my own to meet with you tomorrow and take you to a comfortable rendezvous point of my choosing. And for your sake I hope I'll see you both and not just one."

With that, Daud transversed out of the Overseer's sight, as did his Whaler. He had a feeling that tomorrow's going to be an even longer day endured on only a couple hours of fitful sleep.

#Dishonored #Daud

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scifrey · 5 years

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My Very Spoilery Endgame Review - What I Liked, What Annoyed Me, and Two Questions I Am Left With

I was very satisfied and enjoyed it very much. The theater burst into applause in several instances and it was great to celebrate the end of an era with fellow fans.

Now for the spoilery critiques and praise.

My favorite moments were:

Thor reconciling his self-image and self-worth with his mother

“I’m still worthy.”

Loki escaping and (hopefully) living in at least one timeline - because if Steve went back to “trim the branches” then this means he returned the Tesseract to 1970. Which means the branch where Loki snagged the Tesseract and was not imprisoned on Asgard may have endured*.

Ken Jeong’s cameo.

Stan Lee’s cameo.

Banner coming to terms with who and what he is and living comfortably with the Hulk.

Basically everyone really leaning into the self-love and self-value by the end of the film.

“That is America’s Ass”.

“I could do this all day.” “Yeah, I know.”

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

“Ha! I knew it!”

“I am Iron Man.”

Scott finding Cassie alive.

Wong’s exasperated reply to Strange’s “Is that everyone?”

Nebula’s redemption. This is a princess (as Squidward calls Thanos “sire”) who saves her own damn self.

How the thing that gave the game away to Thanos was actually really clever and well executed; this wasn’t a “heroes are just stupid this one time” (like how Quill screwed the pooch in Infinity War when they had the damn glove). It was something that I genuinely hadn’t thought of, and I assume no one, not even Nebula, would have thought of. It worked. And it worked well.

All the ladies supporting Carol in the final battle - which was awesome but also felt a bit like the moment was added only so the Russos could check it off a “don’t piss off the feminists” list.

How the final battle set it up well for the next phase - I liked how the Glove Relay was from an OG Avenger (Hawkeye) to the new Avengers - Black Panther, Spider-man, and Captain Marvel.

“I love you 3000″.

Falcon!Cap - finally! Yay!

The sound of the armor that started it all being forged as the endcap of the credits.

However.

I wish Bucky and Steve had also had a meaningful moment at the end, like Steve and Sam, something that made it clear that even though Steve was older now, he was no less Bucky’s best pal.

I'm very, very annoyed that they Fridged Natasha. I mean, I get it. Someone had to die. And we all knew Hawkeye was going to go back to his family, so it wouldn’t be him. And I do love how they did the death, how Nat and Clint fought with one another to the be the one to make the sacrifice. And her death would have been especially cheap if Bruce had just Snapped her Back. I get it.

And if there wasn’t a long history of Fridging female character to ensure the male ones have enough Man-Pain to have a character arc and impetus to be a hero, then you know what? This would have been a really moving sacrifice. It would have really worked.

But there is. And in light of that, it’s left me... itchy. Uncomfortable. Because in the context of the film alone it was a great death. But in the context of the history of comic book narratives, it sucked.

Also, what does this mean for the Black Widow movie? Will it actually be a prequel? Will it be Budapest? And if it is Budapest, will they use the same actors, or cast new, younger ones?

I also don't understand the narrative reason why they had to make so many fat jokes around Thor.

I mean, yeah, it makes sense he was depressed and stopped taking care of his heath, and self-medicated with booze and food. This was a strong and meaningful narrative and I really liked that he was given the opportunity to mourn, to question his purpose, to become more than just muscles and a hammer in terms of character construction. That he could grieve and struggle, and be filled with crippling regret that kept him indoors and hiding, and filled self-loathing.

As a character choice it made sense. And I liked that he was still a powerful warrior while chubby, and that he didn’t magically become slim again when he suited up. It was wonderful to see him be no less powerful, dangerous, dedicated, and no less kick ass while sporting a keg instead of a sixpack.

But they leaned awfully hard on that “fat joke” button and by the time Rhodey said “Cheez Whiz?” I was over it. Its got tedious and frankly a bit insulting.

Teasing someone for suffering because he lost literally everyone he loved is not cool. The jokes fell flat, for good reason. They were cruel.

And when the Russos announced that they had included the MCU's first openly gay character I was hoping that it would be a main character, not some rando dude in a talk therapy meeting. I wanted Bucky and Sam to confess feelings, or Bucky to Steve even if Steve couldn’t return them, or Valkyrie to at least have a wife in New Asgard, or something.

But TBH it didn't surprise me that they made it some nameless dude in group support. Like J.K. Rowling, the Russos are happy to queerbait but too cowardly to commit, and they always have been. I’d be annoyed but it’s not worth the energy.

At least when the guy mentioned his boyfriend it was a “no big deal” mention, and nobody made a “are you cool with this, Cap?” thing to really point out that ooooo, this dude is queer.

But those are my only gripes. The rest of it was thoroughly enjoyable and satisfying.

Especially all the little call backs. The "I am Iron Man" and “I could do this all day” stuff - it felt like little gifts to the fandom.

However, I have two questions.

1) When people were Snapped Back, were they Snapped to their previous exact geographical location? Because if so, what about people who had been in transit? Did people who were Snapped Away while in a plane just... appear mid-sky and plummet to their deaths? Were people on spaceships Snapped Back into the void of cold space? We saw in Infinity War that helicopters crashed into city streets - the pilot, that means, was Snapped Away. When that pilot came back, where did he come back? Did Bruce think to Snap them all into safe places? (I mean, I assume the Stones accounted for Spacial Drift and the location of planets in orbit... maybe it accounted for people who would have Snapped Back into deadly situations?)

2) I do love that Steve and Peggy got their life together At that point Pegs would have been like... at least 10 years older than Steve? Maybe 15? What would her neighbors think of Sugar Momma Peggy Carter and her Very Much Younger (Looking) Husband?

Did she introduce him to anyone? Did they have neighborhood BBQs? At that point everyone would have known who Captain America/Steve Rogers was so did no one recognize him? What did they say? (Did we get Beardy Steve back???) They had kids, canonically, so was Steve able to attend their T-BAll games and school plays?

One assumes that Sugar Baby Steve would have been the House Husband, because Pegs was running Shield and Steve was out of the game. He’d never be able to show his face at SHIELD because Howard would recognize him, and so would Arnim Zola, so HYDRA would have known that Captain America survived and I imagine they would have given anything to get him into the Chair.

It makes me think that Sugar Baby House Husband Steve would have been very isolated and possibly lonely. Maybe he had a few neighbor friends, but can you image how torturous it must have been to live so privately? To know that Bucky was out there suffering and being tortured and brainwashed and that he couldn’t do anything about it? He couldn’t go save his best pal?

That Peggy could never bring him to the SHIELD Christmas party, to visit her new baby godson Anthony, never attend anything with him.

And it makes me think Steve had to vanish from her life right when his earlier self entered it so like... as soon as she started getting sick enough with Alzheimer's he had to leave.

Because that’s when younger Steve came into her life, and started visiting her in the nursing home.

But he had to abandon her when she needed him most, and that is very tragic. How did Steve reconcile that with himself? Especially with returning to a future where she was dead and his friends were alive and he didn’t need to be the Secret Sugar Baby House Husband any more?

All in all, it was very enjoyable and I will watch it again.

And I look forward to the FanFic.

* This means that Loki in that branch also likely did not participate in the battle against the Dark Elves. His character growth in that moment was likely delayed, but I believe he ultimately would have processed his extreme confusion, self-loathing, and hatred of his betrayal by his “family” Thor enough to join forces with him against the destruction of the universe when it mattered. Perhaps having the extra time to do so might have even served him better. I don’t know if this means Odin chose to die and Hela was released, thus triggering the destruction of Asgard. I don’t know what this would have meant for Ragnarock - possibly with Odin as the King when he died the defenses would have been better (though I argue the culture and peace of Asgard thrived under Loki, especially with his dismantling of the Empire and the valuing of the Arts) and they would have saved Asgard or at least not lost so many.

And if Asgard had not survived, perhaps in this version something different may have happened, and Loki wouldn’t on the survivor ship. Perhaps he was on a different ship. Perhaps he wasn’t present for the battle at all and in a completely different part of the universe.

If he was elsewhere this means

a) The Asgardian survivors would have lived because Thanos wouldn’t have targeted the ship, and Thor would have been less self-loathing.

b) When Thanos found Loki with the Tesseract in this branch, it’s likely Loki was able to ingratiate himself to Thanos and gave the Stone to him without Thor there to tip his hand toward an immediate betrayal murder attempt. I subscribe to the theory that Loki was just as mind-controlled during The Avengers and the Battle of New York as Barton (though I wouldn’t call Loki totally innocent in everything) and that he had been suffering from extreme mental health issues following his unsuccessful attempted suicide. In this case, he would be willing to play the long game to get his revenge on his abuser Thanos. Then, later, hopefully, he joins Thor’s side to save the universe against Thanos (as he did against the Dark Elves)- betraying Thanos and perhaps stopping the Snap before it happened in that timeline. Or if not stopping the Snap, perhaps being a part of the new Avengers if he survived it, or joining in the final battle if he was Snapped Away.

Anyway - I have lots of Loki Thoughts. Feel free to adopt any Plot Bunnies this may have generated in reading this.

#Avengers: Endgame #Review #spoilters #Endgame #Avengers #Storytelling #Loki #Endgame Loki #head cannon #theories #loki theory

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