Breathe In With Hunger

Originally posted September 13, 2020

Summary: Obi-Wan had spent his whole life keeping his species a secret, until the Clone Wars made that impossible.

Details: Sithspawn Stewjoni AU.

xxxxxx

Obi-Wan hadn't known what to expect from the clone medical staff--he'd seen how efficient the troopers were, he almost hoped that he'd be able to get in and out of medical without any fuss.

That, however, was not to be.

"General," the medic, who had finally introduced himself as Sleep, seemed baffled by something and Obi-Wan braced himself. "Your medical records require Council authorization."

"Ah."

His casual acknowledgement called more notice to them than he'd thought it would, the focused attention of so many similar people clawing at him in the Force.

It also didn't help Sleep's attitude and, from the bags under his eyes and the tell-tale sign of stim-caused tremors, Obi-Wan was beginning to understand the name was possibly an in-joke. "General, I can't treat you if I don't know even the basics about you. It's the entire file except your name and birth date! Even your gender is redacted!"

He shifted, glancing around them. Only clones.

Whatever that meant. As he still wasn't sure how he felt about Jango Fett creating a supposed army for the Republic.

Alpha-17 was there, shifting closer to them with his tell-tale scowl. Beyond him, a few other troopers lingered, ones that had been on the recent mission with them, back-up when no other Jedi, not even his Padawan, were available.

Thus, too, why Obi-Wan wasn't being seen by a Jedi healer who already knew about him.

They all felt safe. Alpha had certainly proven himself time and time again to Obi-Wan.

And if the war continued on as it was going, they would all find out sooner than later, regardless of how careful Obi-Wan was. Perhaps an early warning would garner him the troopers' help in hiding himself in plain sight.

"Do you know what a Stewjoni is?"

Sleep blinked at him, like a droid that had just rebooted, and then startled. "You...but...." His fingers flew across the datapad in his hand, most likely at whatever medical information he'd been able to collect from their own databases. "That would explain the copper levels," he finally allowed, seeming to fumble over his words.

Beside them, Alpha-17 let out a low string of curses in Mando'a, a few that even Obi-Wan didn't know. "That would have been good to know, General," he bit out the title, condescending. "Especially with how the Sith are always all over you."

"I apologize for the oversight, Alpha. It has never been necessary information for those who temporarily worked with me, before."

Obi-Wan needed the distraction from thinking about the Sith--the feel of them against his senses, the smooth Darkness that flowed out of them. His instincts were dulled by over three decades with the Jedi and still they were so, so hard to resist when he was injured and someone like Ventress was right there.

He still remembered the taste of the Sith on Naboo, his instincts tearing through him after watching the killing blow delivered to Qui-Gon, feeling their bond start to come undone. It had just been the slightest amount, enough that he'd come out of the encounter with not even a bruise, but it had made his food taste like ash for months after.

"What do I need to know, sir?" Sleep dragged his attention back from places he really shouldn't let it go.

With a sigh, he motioned for the datapad and reluctantly logged into his own medical profile, watching as two lines became a short lifetime of information. "This is full access, trooper. I expect you to be discreet."

Sleep nodded and, distracted as he was, barely said anything when Obi-Wan slipped from the room. It wasn't as though he had gone alone, Alpha-17 was at his back the whole walk to his own temporary bunk in Tipoca City.

"If you're looking for another apology, Alpha, I'm afraid one isn't coming."

That just earned him a snort, Alpha-17 closing the door behind him and standing in the private room like he was a common fixture and not a new oddity in Obi-Wan's life.

"Your blood was blue."

"Excuse me?"

"After Ohma D'un. I thought it was some trick of the weapon you'd been exposed to."

Obi-Wan licked his lips, glancing down at his wrists where carefully crafted tattoos gave the impression of near-human blood vessels under his light toned skin. "I have an implant," he said, finally, "that helps make my blood look red, or close enough. It had failed by the end." The added iron often made him feel sickly and he'd been almost glad that it wasn't working, with how much damage his body had taken.

"Do you need...accommodations?" When his answer was a raised eyebrow, Alpha-17 glowered and continued, "Like General Koon or General Fisto need. Environmental? Special rations?"

"Have I given any indication that I do?" Now it was Alpha-17's turn to give him a look. "It's not...you must understand, my people were manufactured. We're quite capable of living in very diverse environments and, when our preferred food is scarce, living off of nearly anything." He gave a wry grin. "Though, despite it all, I'll never be as fond of live insects as my Padawan is."

Alpha-17 grimaced, remembering a few particularly harsh campaigns where Anakin had become creative with additions to their GAR-issued rations. He remained silent for a few moments, clearly working through something serious, and Obi-Wan took the time to prepare some tea for them. The ritual of it, adopted from his own Master (who adopted it from Dooku, though Obi-Wan tried not to think of that), was comforting.

As much as he'd deny it, this was a nerve-wracking evening. The last time he'd revealed himself had been when he'd taken Anakin as his Padawan, needing the boy to understand the idiosyncrasies he might notice and the difference in emotions that would flow down their bond. Anakin had already been facing so many changes, and had such a unique perspective compared to the Core and Mid-Rim peoples that Obi-Wan normally encountered, that it had gone easily.

He wasn't sure how the clones would actually take the information, when they had time to process it. Obi-Wan was aware that how human he looked could often be unsettling to those who knew the truth. That his whole being could come across as a lie in itself.

"Are you holding back?" Alpha-17 asked into the silence, after Obi-Wan served him tea in a delicate cup, as if sensing his thought process.

"What do you mean?"

"During our fights. Are you holding back because you're...hiding."

Obi-Wan stroked his beard with one hand, the fingers of the other tapping against his cup. "I suppose, if you wanted to be fully accurate, I am. But it's not because I worried you would find out," he hurried to add, "it is because if I were to stop...it would be very difficult to come back from that."

"What does that mean? You would...go feral?"

He coughed out his sip of tea, trying not to laugh. "No, Force, what sort of odd fictions are you troopers reading?" Alpha-17 had the good grace to look embarrassed. "I could far more easily take on someone like Ventress or even Dooku himself if I used my...natural abilities. However, I do not know if I could stop myself from...feeding from their essences. Which in turn would kickstart a healing process in my body that could very well reverse all the very extensive, and expensive, surgeries I have had over the years and possibly get the Order in trouble for harboring such a dangerous creature as I."

"Right. Because...you don't really look like this."

"Is that a problem, trooper?"

Alpha-17 regarded him and Obi-Wan was confused by the weight of the hurt settling within him at the hesitation. "No, General. I can't say I'm not curious about what you'd really look like, but it's no problem from me." He scowled. "I'm not some longneck who is going to judge you for not being exactly what I was expecting."

***

Sleep died in an explosion four months later. Alpha-17 disappeared into Tipoca City to train ARC troopers after severe injuries towards the end of the first year of the war. The others who new were picked off here and there, the rate of survival for the troopers worryingly low.

Obi-Wan told the medics of the 212th, when he was finally assigned to them, but he did not tell anyone else. The longer he went without doing so, the less he felt like he could.

It was Ventress who told Cody, taking great delight in stroking the scars along Obi-Wan's exposed back as his vulnerable Commander struggled against his bonds. She had a thing for stripping clones that Obi-Wan didn't like, anymore than he liked how she kept chaining him up whenever she caught him.

"He's a pretty thing, isn't he?" she cooed at Cody, carding a hand through Obi-Wan's sweaty hair. "But...why? Isn't it odd, Commander, how he seems to be nearly everyone's type?" Her smirk was self-satisfied and Obi-Wan wanted to kick it off her face. "As if he were...made...to appeal to people, regardless of their species."

Cody just seemed confused, at least at first. What he might have said was lost behind the gag that Obi-Wan found himself more and more thankful for as Ventress continued, pointing out the marks of his surgeries. Where his spines down to their very base had been dug out, where his eyes had been capped over with lenses, where his ears had been cut down and reshaped.

When she stripped down his lower body and gave Cody a view, the anger and distress coming from the clone had sharpened into rage.

As soon as they were free, it was all Obi-Wan could do to keep Cody from beating Ventress to death with his bare hands. Which was...more flattering than he wanted to admit.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Commander," he said, as they settled into the command center of the ship they were now alone on and waited for their rescue.

Cody stared at him. "Sir, that's private information. As long as the medics knew, that's all that I would expect from you."

"Truly? You're not...unnerved?"

The answer was a shrug and what might have been the beginnings of a blush, Cody's shields once more impeccable enough that Obi-Wan couldn't actually tell his feelings in the Force. "I admit it...answered a few questions I had...but it's none of my business."

"Questions about my attractiveness?" he supplied, remembering Ventress using that as a starting point.

"You do, uh, seem to garner a lot of...cross-species interest, General."

Obi-Wan gave a gentle smile, an expression he'd practiced as a youth after noticing how the humans around him responded to it from others.

"My people weren't originally created by the Sith, like every other species of what are called 'Sithspawn' they took us and twisted us to their purposes. Sith Flesh Alchemy allows for otherwise incompatible species to breed, so that they can adopt attributes the Alchemists thought would be useful." His smile turned wry, an expression that felt more natural on his face these days. "I am attractive to so many species because I was genetically engineered to be so. The closest translation into Basic for 'Stewjoni' is 'Siren,' if you know any old Aldeeranian myths."

That got Cody's attention. "You had me read those. I thought it was just...entertainment."

"Ah, you've caught me, my dear. They're not accurate per se--as you can tell, my people no longer spend much time in the water--but they serve as warnings."

"You thought we needed a warning about you? Sir, we know you would never--"

He held up a hand, stopping whatever Cody was about to say. "When Sith are involved, Cody, when they've created you, in a way, you can never be fully trustworthy. There's always the chance that somehow, someway, they still have their grip on you."

His kind weren't prone to nightmares, but everyone he'd had since the war had started was the same--Dooku's shadowy Master finding a way to turn him on his people, on his troops, with little more than the properly worded phrase.

Cody watched him, sadness seeping out from his shields. "General...Obi-Wan...just because those demagolka changed your people somehow...that doesn't mean you're monsters."

"Not just monsters, perhaps."

***

Obi-Wan was not capable of hate, not in the way most species felt it. He knew what it was, knew what it felt like rubbing against him in the Force like a tamed tooka, what it tasted like flooding him as he sipped from a Sith opponent, but he didn't feel it.

If he could, he was almost certain that he would have fallen sometime between being shot at by his suddenly blank-feeling troopers, hearing from Yoda of how most of the Council had confronted Palpatine--Sidious, and having to watch the recording of Anakin slaughtering his way through the Temple.

"You went hunting a Sith without me?" the hiss in his words was the only sign of his emotional turmoil and he tightened his hands and tried to get himself together.

How many of his colleagues--his friends--would still be alive if they had waited?

“Important, it was, to strike quickly.” Yoda’s ears were tucked closely to his head, his shoulders slumped, but Obi-Wan had little sympathy. “The Will of the Force, to act.”

“To act without thinking, to rush headlong against a Sith powerful enough to hide from all of us,” he shot back.

Obi-Wan had known--had accepted--that a war against the Sith would mean exposing himself fully by the end. He’d even imagined that it might end up being against the hidden Sith Master, had looked into ways of reversing some of the procedures he’d gone through--at the very least for claws and teeth, and venom--and none of that mattered, apparently.

He didn’t think he could take Sidious by himself, not when the man would be prepared for attacks and surely knew what he was.

If they’d waited until Obi-Wan had returned, he could have given them the upperhand. “I sincerely doubt the ‘Will of the Force’ wanted the Jedi slaughtered,” he muttered, finally, starting off into the catacombs they hid in.

“Go to face Sidious, do you?”

“No, I’m going to find Anakin. There’s nothing we can do against Sidious, not right now.”

***

The first place he thought to look was with Padme. How many times had he and she played a game of pretending he didn’t know Anakin had spent the night there? How many times had he taken up the role of possible illicit paramore to draw attention from her closeness with Anakin?

She was near-panic, clouding the Force with her strong emotions, but she understood what they needed to do. If Anakin was caught in a torrent of the Darkside, they’d need to be very careful in talking him down.

“If we can’t reach him...will you kill him?” Her hands clutched her rounded belly, as though the children within could understand the conversation and needed comfort.

Obi-Wan took long breaths, staring down at Mustafar as the ship approached. The whole planet was rife with the Dark, making his instincts claw at the back of his mind. But it was Anakin he felt most strongly, the blazing sun of his Force present nothing but rage and fear, now.

“If we can’t reach him, that means it’s not Anakin anymore. We don’t know what Sidious did to him to get him to this point.” His hands clenched, imagining some of the stories his people shared of Sith crimes. “There might just...be nothing left of him.”

He was upsetting her, perhaps unnecessarily, but he needed her to know. Needed her to be prepared.

“Your children must be your priority, Padme. It’s what he would have thought, too.” They stared into each other’s eyes, her trying hard not to flinch away from him.

Outside, the volcanic air was harsh enough that Obi-Wan worried for her health--and Anakin's. The Force could do much, but if he wasn't careful, Anakin would ruin his lungs. He'd always been so reckless with his own body.

xxxxxx

A/N: This got a little too long to just be shoved in my drabble collection (where you'll find some other stuff using the same headcanons) so I decided to make it it's own work, even though I rewrote the ending like six times over the last few weeks. 

This post has everything so far about my headcanon, but in short: Stewjoni were originally sentient predators that fed off of Force users in particular and when the fallen Jedi alchemists met up with the Sith and found out about them, they experimented on them and made them into basically Sith hunting pets.

The very original idea was because I really can't stand Stewjoni (considering it was a joke that Lucas refused to back down on) and "Stewjon is Space Scotland," and there's this Scottish legend called a "baobhan sith" that's like a siren.

Sleep is one of my clone OCs.

Mysteries and Memories

Summary:  Other Yugi is curious about his past, and Ryou is interested in both the history of the Items and the fact that he’s a ghost. They decide to talk.

Would you believe I’ve been floating around an idea like this for more than a year? And then I just wrote it out in like an hour at 2am last night and edited it up now. Just go for it, kids. I really like how this came out- I feel actually pretty confident about the characterization, which is nice.

Comments/reblogs//replies/tags are super appreciated!

AO3 Link

Wordcount: 1903

Warnings: None

Ship: Light Other Yugi/Ryou.

“Hello?”

Ryou straightened up as he heard a voice.

“Yugi?”

“It’s… me.”

“Oh, other Yugi then.” Ryou hurried over to unlock the door. “So you wanted to take my offer?”

When he was flustered and glancing away, it was remarkable how little you one could tell him and Yugi apart. They shared a body, of course, but usually Ryou had seen him in duels- confident, ramrod straight, with a barking voice and a confident smirk. Now, he didn’t seem to know what to do. Other than a slight correction of the slouch Yugi always had (really, didn’t he hate being seen as short, why would he slouch, Ryou wondered) the only difference was the way his bangs stuck up like static electricity and how the Puzzle hummed like static from a TV.

“Yes, I… if there’s anything you can do to help, it would be appreciated.”

“Come on in.” Ryou nudged the house slippers towards him with his toe. “I left the Ring in my closet- he didn’t like you being here, but as long as you don’t rob me blind, he’ll just have to deal.”

“I would never-!”

Ryou waved a hand. “Joking, joking. I made some tea so we can talk.” Other Yugi just blinked at that.

“…Okay.” He untied his shoes, then slid the slippers on, plodding into Ryou’s apartment. “It’s kind of a mess in here.”

“I’d say it usually isn’t like this, but it is. It’s livable.” Ryou shrugged. “He doesn’t exactly care about keeping tidy, but as long as he doesn’t cause any more trouble, I’ll let a few dirty dishes slide. Didn’t he help Yugi the other day, when I woke up at the Black Clown?”

“The experience is… fuzzy, but he did.” Other Yugi confirmed.

“See? He’s getting better.” Ryou poured the tea into two glasses. “Sugar?”

“I’ll have one.” Other Yugi sat down, and Ryou plopped a little cube into his drink, before adding two to his own, stirring it around.

“So. You want answers.”

“The Spirit of the Ring seems to have some and I… we don’t exactly get along.” He said slowly.

“I’ve noticed.” Ryou said dryly. “But that puts us on the same playing field- I keep wearing the Ring both because he’s starting to be a bit less of an ass after I helped beat him in the Monster World game, and because I want answers. About who you two are, where the Items came from, anything either of you can give me. If I help you find out who and what you are, then I get what I want.” He leaned forward across the table. “So. Is there anything you remember? Anything at all?”

“I thought I was Yugi for… six months, was it? There was always an itching feeling in the back of my neck that something was off, but he called me out in moments of stress, so all I wanted to do was solve the problem. I had access to his memories, and I assumed any confusion was just due to the fact that I was close to being hurt or something was hurting my friends.” He fiddled with the chain of the Puzzle, links clicking against each other.

“I’m pretty sure he mine knew he was different- he seemed to know you existed, anyways.” Ryou said. “He was trying to impress me, in some weird way. I would have preferred chocolates instead of people in comas, but eh. Live and learn.” Ryou cleared his throat.

“So, he had some idea that he was a separate consciousness, a different soul. He still hasn’t given me a name to call him, though, so although he pretends he’s just holding it back, he doesn’t remember everything either.” He took a sip of his tea. “Let’s lay out what we know. The Items are from Egypt. He’s said he was a robber, stealing valuables like them, and that you were… some kind of protector of them, maybe?”

“That would make sense, but Shadi seems to have that part covered.” He Other Yugi stirred the cubes of sugar, watching them dissolve as heat radiated from the tea. “Sometimes, when the light hit my hands wrong, Yugi’s bracelets and pale skin looked wrong off , like I was wearing a costume. I’m fairly certain I had dark skin.”

Ryou pulled out a small notepad and scribbled that down. “Is there anything else?”

He drummed the nail of his index finger against the table in a sharp staccato. “If there is anything, it’s as if it disappears as soon as I’m aware of it. My soul room is a giant maze, and if I ever find anything, it’s locked away the next time I turn around. It’s frustrating, to say the least.”

“I can imagine.” Ryou said, scratching his pen against the paper. It was something, at least- he’d never seen any soul rooms besides his own. Were they all different or was that something to do with being inside of an Item? Goodness knew that he’d never gotten past the black hole that was the Ring Spirit’s front door, and he’d lost more than a few pieces of soul room that he’d prodded at it with trying. “Your room’s a maze- have you ever tried changing it?”

He nodded. “A few times, but it’s stubborn. I’m in a Puzzle, after all, and it doesn’t like trying to change the rules. What little I can do is always set back once Yugi and I switch, and it’s never more than the entrance.”

“All right, I’m going to try something.” Ryou stood up, walking over to his room and nudging a tall basket full of laundry with his hip on the way. Other Yugi sipped at his tea, looking around the apartment.

Ryou had a video game system set up, as well as notebooks open everywhere. From what he could see, they all had either writings or drawings, probably of Monster World campaigns. He still had the transparent glass cube that had all of them together in it, with Other Yugi holding up a die.

Huh. Either Ryou had fought to keep it or the Ring spirit didn’t care to throw it away. Either one was probably a good sign.

“Found it!” Ryou came out waving a small device that looked sort of like a remote control. It had some colors on the top, set up like piano keys.

“What’s that?”

“An EMF detector. Really, this is more for curiosity’s sake than anything- it helps detect electromagnetic field radiation.”

He just stared blankly at him.

“You can use it to sense a lot of stuff, but right now, it’s useful because it can sense ghosts. I’m just curious how strongly it will detect you, since you’re technically a ghost possessing Yugi right now. The Ring makes it go off even when I’m not wearing it.”

“Huh.” He tilted his head as Ryou approached, and he heard a crackling noise.

“Yep, it’s going to yellow, it can definitely- oh.” He was right in front of Other Yugi now, and the needle strained at red, making an angry buzzing noise. “Huh. I guess it’s stronger when it’s an active possession.”

“I’m not possessing- ”

“I know, I know, you both consented and all that. Still, it was at the edge of pink with the Ring, it’s definitely deep in the red with you. I’ve never tried it when the Ring was on. Maybe this thing isn’t used to active shadow magic?” Ryou hit the side of it, and it started smoking. “Oh. Guess so.” He started walking backwards, and nearly tripped over a chunk of solid foam. Other Yugi jumped up, moving to grab him, when Ryou backed up. “I’m fine! I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I do really need to clean up in here one of these days…” He blew up at his bangs , to get them out of his eyes, turning to walk a few steps and then tossing the EMF meter onto his bed. “Is Yugi watching? I usually don’t,   the Ring spirit gets prickly sometimes if I get in on his time.”

“Not today, but usually.” Other Yugi said. “He said he’d like me to have my space about this.”

“Oh. Well, that was nice of him.” Ryou looked around. “I don’t exactly have much else to offer… want to play a round of duel monsters? No death games or anything, but I didn’t get to play at all during Duelist Kingdom.”

Other Yugi felt around in his pockets. “Let me- ah!” He pulled out his deck. “Yugi usually keeps it in his jacket.”

“Dork.” Ryou said, as if he wasn’t grinning and two feet away from a half-built scale model of a medieval castle.

As it turned out, Ryou was just as ruthless in gaming as the Ring Spirit- if his reckless bravery during the Monster World incident hadn’t convinced Other Yugi of it, this would have done it. He played innocent at first, but used Dark Necrofear to turn his Dark Magician against him. That caused another twinge in his chest, but he wasn’t quite sure why.

“And with dark magic burning, I take out the rest of your life points.” He grinned, shifting the Dark Magician card with the pad of his thumb.

“That was well-played.”

“Well, I got lucky- you had a bad hand at the end there. But yeah, I did pretty well.” He beamed, clearly proud. “Did you get a time limit?”

He glanced at his watch. “Yugi said just be back at the shop by dinner.”

“You should probably go, then.” Ryou handed back the Dark Magician and started collecting his cards.

“I noticed something. When you took the Dark Magician, I… I felt something. I think there’s something with that card.”

Ryou nodded. “I’ll add it to my notes. Just tell me if you come up with anything.” He sighed. “He has a card like that too. Whatever I know, he’ll know, but I don’t think there’s anything you told me that he’d really be able to get much use out of.”

“I appreciate your help anyhow.” He bowed his head, and Ryou reciprocated. “Besides, it was… nice, to not have to deal with life-or-death situations.”

“Don’t I know the feeling. Tell Yugi that either of you are welcome, as long as you call first.” Ryou said, sliding his deck back into its case.

He smiled, setting his own deck back into place. “I’ll be sure to pass it along.”

Ryou rubbed the back of his neck. “And… it was kind of nice, hanging out. After everything with people falling into comas, I kind of backed down on casual friends. This wasn’t as bad as it could have been.”

Other Yugi laughed at that. “I’ll take ‘not a disaster’. We’ll see you at school.”

Ryou smiled, and it was a little crooked but a lot charming. Somehow, in the back of his mind, he saw how girls flocked to him. He had a kind of effortless charm that he buried under a quick dark wit and a tendency to get lost in his own head, if the times he’d showed up late for class due to ‘campaign planning’ was any indication. “See you.”

Other Yugi was caught up in thought enough that he almost forgot his sneakers at the door and left in the slippers, which made Ryou laugh.

He liked the sound.

Destiny 2: Faction Rallies, Forsaken and Disasters in 3, Oh My...

Saturday, June 9th 2018

Written by: A Curious Wednesday

When it comes to Destiny 2, growing pains have become expected.  In a game with more potential than a designated hitter can swing at, this is ultimately very frustrating.  With the arrival of Season 3 of D2 and the announcement of Forsaken, the trend of uneasiness continues.  In a previous post, I talked about my concerns for Warmind, something that any narrative driven player can relate to.

To briefly recap:  the story aspects of Warmind are abysmal at best.  You get 5 story missions that introduce you to a new NPC and two new villains.  We (wrongfully) assumed that the new host of characters would be properly developed.  Ana Bray, for instance, is a legendary guardian who’d been MIA since Crota and Luna, I believe.  During that pitched battle, she fired her golden gun with such focused power and will that the light from it lingers still.  That battle was supposed to have happened centuries ago. She also has connections to Clovis Bray and is, perhaps, the premiere Gunslinger.  Even better than Cayde-6, whom like her, is an original Risen. Now, this is never really conveyed in those 5 missions. None of her legendary feats are ever really mentioned.  She’s essentially relegated to a throw-away NPC and Vendor.

Compiling this problem, Zavala, the leader of the Vanguard and Consensus is not developed any further.  Instead, he continues to be pigeon-holed as “Den Mother” to all guardians. All you need to do to confirm this, is speak with any of Destiny’s fanbase.  Most, if not all, will agree that Zavala is everyone’s overprotective mommy.

When it comes to the two new characters, both are abused and mistreated.  Nokris has soo much story potential.  He is the exiled son of Oryx and the runt of his brood.  He’s the smart one. A necromancer (possibly a male wizard), which is a rarity amongst the Hive/Krill.  He attempted to usurp his father’s power and place as king and failed. His co-conspirator, Xol (a worm god, a being of unimaginable power, eternal life and knowledge) is essentially defeated as a strike boss, which is an insult and disservice to Xol and the grandeur that is supposed to be the “Worm Gods”.  In fact, both are ultimately just strike bosses. Beating either during the campaign is unfulfilling. Being sent to the Deep by Xol is a joke and possibly the greatest offense for me.

So, with things on the narrative side of the spectrum so weak and lacking, you’d hope that Bungie would make the new season’s Faction Rally topnotch.  Personally, I don’t mind the “Renown” mechanic in principle. During the grind to faction rank 50, it adds to the challenge. However, the vehicle for this delivery is problematic.  By skewing each firefight in favor of the AI whenever a player has active “Renown” it has ended up making every open-world activity more difficult than it should be. With the arrival of Escalation Protocol, this oversight becomes glaringly apparent.  Escalation Protocol is a new feature and endgame mode where you join up with other guardians to take on wave after wave of Hive opponents in increasing difficulty. Ideally, 3 level-capped. 385 light-level guardians should be able to complete all waves if they can communicate and work together.

In practice, it’s usually one fireteam that sparks it once they notice 3 or more random guardians patrolling the Hellas Basin.  Since all guardians need to complete Escalation Protocol waves (a least once), any available guardian generally comes running when EP is activated.  Currently, this means that 1 team ends up trying to complete an EP with underpowered guardians, culminating in failure and frustration.  With the arrival of the first Faction Rally this season and the release of “Renown” its made an already challenging open-world event more difficult, by further handicapping the player in favor of the AI-controlled enemy.

The trend of handicapping the player to up the difficulty is nothing new.  Its an established procedure carried over from Destiny.  Any time you enter a darkness zone (iow “Boss fight”), for instance, you are effectively de-buffed, weakened by the overwhelming presence of Darkness and cut-off from the Traveler’s Light. You’re left with your own strength and light to see you and your team through.  Why does this happen?  Perhaps, each of these areas are influenced by the taint of Darkness to such an extent that it manifests physically.  At least, that is how I like to think of it. As it adds a narrative reason for the game mechanic. 

However, by further handicapping the player, it ultimately diminishes the feeling of grandeur and heroicness that you’d normally experienced as a maxed-out, veteran guardian (player).  Destiny did a good job of preserving that feeling of being a walking, talking badass.  You were/are the prophesied guardian. The one Saint-14 looked up to, perhaps even idolized.  You were the one that did what no other guardian could do. And, if you were capable and competent, you did it alone.

Destiny 2 does a great job of stripping you of that feeling, making the overall experience occasionally frustrating and lackluster.  The grind to rank-level 50 is long enough and made worse by the fact that some of us have limited time to invest in D2′s grind.  Now, here’s where the two schools of thought diverge. School 1) everyone should have access to and the ability to get everything, so you must level the playing field; School 2) only the dedicated should get everything since they put in the time, effort and hardwork.  I, myself, fall into the second camp or a variation of it.

I believe the unexpected problem that is “Renown” could be fixed by tying the effect to a faction’s emblem, class item or both and enabling factions to recruit and have relevance all year around, like they were in Destiny.  Thereby, turning Faction Rallies into something special and unique.  Something on par with Crimson Days, Festival of the Lost, Sparrow Racing League and the Winter Solstice event.  Perhaps, each faction, dependent upon their beliefs structure needs to accomplish something significant.   Perhaps, its a month long competition for bragging rights and something else.  Something more.  Something like supremacy or even, just something as simple as which faction gets the lion’s share of funding for the rest of the fiscal quarter. 

In Destiny, factions were always relevant.  As soon as you reached level 20, you were allowed your choice of which faction to pledge to, and you could, after a week, decide to pledge your loyalty to a different faction.  Rank progress was limited and constricted. You had to work to progress through the rank levels in Destiny.  You had to represent your chosen faction on your guardian.  As the benefits of pledging to a faction were only available when you, the player, equipped a faction-specific class item and/or emblem.

Once you did that, it was an uphill slog to those coveted exotic items.  Uphill, but worthwhile. Like many of the more obscure features of Destiny, you were rewarded for the time you put into it.  It wasn’t gifted to you; you earned it. There was no time limit.  Thus negating the feeling of artificial pressure. It didn’t matter how long it took you to get those coveted items as long as you were willing to put in the work to get them.  It took me 2 years or so to get Dead Orbit’s exotic cloak.  I didn’t mind the wait.  I also didn’t stick with Dead Orbit exclusively.  A more dedicated player would have gotten that item and others much faster.

In Destiny 2, this psychological/societal feature is not present.  It’s almost as if the Vanguard took pity on those surviving guardians of the Red War.  As if they became Oprah during her final season of her talk show: “you get an exotic! You get an exotic!”  “You get raid gear!” “You get trial gear!” This analogy can be and has been applied to Hawthorne.  I imagine this is what Hawthorne would shout in her best Oprah impression as she tossed out specially encrypted engrams to the throngs of clamoring guardians with their hands out.

Of course, I know better than to believe that fantasy.  There’s no narrative reason for these decisions. There’s no real narrative pull for participating in the Faction Rallies to begin with.  There is for Strikes, the Crucible and the Iron Banner. Strikes, from a narrative perspective are high-level, precision operations that makes assassins out of you.  In order to protect the remnants of humanity from Darkness. The Crucible, on the other hand, is a way to hone your skills and abilities; to sharpen you. It also serves as a way to resolve grievances.  Nothing like a sanctioned fight to the death, to prove your point.  “Fight me for what you believe!” The Iron Banner honors the fallen Iron Lords thru glorious gladiatorial combat and serves to further hone your abilities and skills. Of course, the Iron Banner is also not what it used to be.  Now that level-advantage is disabled, it's no different from the Crucible. This is too bad, because the added difficulty made participating in previous iterations of the IB savoring. It gave rise to water-cooler moments and bragging rights.

The concept of Faction Rallies overall is neat.  However, in practice there’s nothing special about them.  The weapons you can claim are ultimately reskinned versions of likely superior Vanguard and Crucible weapons.  There is no meaningful choice behind siding with a particular faction. Arach Jalaal of Dead Orbit raves about escaping a defined end and little else.  Lakshmi-2 of Future War Cult raves about the inescapability of war and how we all need to prepare for it. Executor Hideo of New Monarchy is obsessed with protecting and preserving humanity’s cradle, Earth.  Beyond some ambient dialogue you might chance upon by standing before each vendor, there is no way to know what each faction stands for or why you should care. The experience has devolved into a loot-grab for the shiniest prizes.  Oftentimes, this means that New Monarchy wins each faction rally because their armor, vehicles and weapons are the most appealing.

For those of us who know what each faction stands for, this is a deathknell of sorts.  I, myself, am a Dead Orbit loyalist. I could be accused of being a fatalist, but by that notion, so too are the Fallen/Eliksni.  They abandoned their homeworld after the Whirlwind, just like Dead Orbit and Arach Jalaal want to do. That is something I agree with.  In Destiny, it was why all three of my guardians sided with DO.  I’ve always distrusted the Traveler. It brought ultimate war and destruction to our doorstep.  Through the usage of the former grimoires I learned that it did similarly to the Fallen and Cabal.  When those two species/peoples could no longer protect it, the Traveler fled. Abandoned those people to their fates.  Dead Orbit believes the Traveler will do that to us, should the time come. I agree. So, they’ve prepared a fleet of ships and supplies.  They fund scouts to search out our galaxy for a home untouched by the Darkness and Traveler. And while, each faction acts with the best interest of humanity in mind, DO is the only one pragmatic enough to plan long-term and realize the survival of our species.

Future War Cult are, in some ways, battle-crazed zealots.  Fanatics that believe crushing their enemies here, now and in the future is the only guarantee for victory.  I consider that to be short-sighted, but still a noble cause. They don’t wish to abandon earth any more than New Monarchy does, but they are willing to if it means our survival.  They also have ties to the Vex and some misunderstood, wonky machine monikered, “The Device” that allows individuals to glimpse future, alternate timelines.  It’s how they prepare for the wars to come. They prepare, though, which is a key difference. They don’t try to avoid those future conflicts.

New Monarchy, on the other hand is the most obstinate.  They are not interested in entertaining a future where humanity no longer resides on earth or in the Sol system.  They are not interested in a governing council. They are not interested in exploration, but rather, reclamation. Their shtick is reclaiming what was lost.  Reclaim the Earth and Luna. Reclaim the Golden Age. Reclaim Earth’s dominance. Sire tons of children to build up our population numbers. They are interested in the absolute power, authority and rule of one individual.  Executor Hideo is a zealot. A diehard. It’s the only way to become an Executor.

Again, without having prior experience, how many of you would know all of this about each faction?  All you’d readily know is that NM offers armor reminiscent of medieval regalia and bold colors of red, gold, brown and teal-green.  DO offers armor reminiscent to what you’d scavenge in the wild. Something homemade. Its weathered, worn. It’s got miles on it. History.  Their colors are black, white and brown. FWC provides modern, mass-produced armor that strikes a balance between full-plate protection and padding (think “kevlar”).  Theirs is a further balance between the grandiose of New Monarchy and the practicality of Dead Orbit. FWC believes in standing out. Therefore, their colors are white, purple/blue and gold/orange.  This all means that when choosing who to represent, its really a matter of what look you’re going for with your barbie. Maybe, just maybe, one faction has a weapon that is superior to the rest.  And that influences your decision.

I’m all for glamorizing my guardian on occasion or when the mood strikes me, but overall, I’m driven by the narrative.  Wherever I can find it.  It’s why I originally sided with Dead Orbit 4 years ago. It’s why I’m so crestfallen about the state of Destiny 2.  Why I’m so apprehensive about Forsaken.  If you logically think about it, Bungie has likely already finished working on Forsaken.  They’d already finished Warmind by the time they called their “summit”.  Which meant that there was no fixing Warmind, further exacerbating the underlying issues plaguing Destiny 2.  Issues that many have already brought up via Youtube channel hosts.  The likes of My Name is Byf, Mylien Games, Darkside Royalty Lore have all articulated similar points better than I could have.  

Forsaken, undoubtedly, will probably be better than everything prior to it.  The Taken King elevated Destiny to a new level.  It delivered on some of the promises that had until then been cast aside.  Therefore, its an educated leap that the same will be true of Forsaken. Nevertheless, if the underlying narrative problems aren’t rectified, it’ll ultimately be a hollow victory.  Again, take this season’s Faction Rally as an indication. The “Renown” mechanic sounds like a good idea. It could have been a good idea. The Good Idea Fairy would agree. This, is, however, why we don’t acknowledge “good ideas”.  In order for a good idea to be implemented properly, it needs to be tested and tested and measured and reigned in by the physicalities of the circumstances. This is why you only deliver on things you can promise.

By stripping D2 bare in the 11th hour and starting anew, they threw away too much to make way for a different direction.  A disastrous direction that they are now scrambling to retract. All the features that Forsaken is adding back in, should never have been removed in the first place.  To charge for it is narcissistic at best. If you have doubts, look to this month’s Faction Rally and last month’s Iron Banner (the one about that emote.).  Exotic ornaments and catalysts are available dependent upon which faction you choose to pledge to. However, you can only pledge to one. Meaning, if you want them all, you must grind to 50 in each faction ranking system before the Rally event ends.  The decision isn’t based upon a narrative reason. It isn’t based upon which faction best suites you. Its based upon the loot offered. If you’ve got a busy life and can only hop into Destiny late at night or on the weekends, you’re s.o.l. Bungie attempted to fix this by making loot rewards from all activities available to all, regardless if said player contributed or not.  That didn’t work out well. The playerbase decried this practice. So it was rescinded in the form of a compromise: instead of getting high-level engrams from anywhere, you’re now only rewarded high-level engrams from either the Vanguard or Crucible engram pool.

Previous iterations of the Faction Rally had systems similar to this rally’s “Renown”, skewing combat in the the favor of the enemy and penalizing idiotic player practices.  Those proved unsuccessful as well, which is why they were removed. Like the Dodo, “Renown” will likely disappear as well. It will be replaced with some other, newer good idea that will ultimately not pan out as intended and the cycle will continue.  Until Destiny 3, where Bungie gives up on their plans of creating a new sub-genre: MMORPG-based FPS and settles on a Call of Duty clone/knockoff/lesser version.  Except instead of the “good” CoDs, it’ll be Black Ops IV with no narrative or campaign, entirely multiplayer and group-content driven.  Does anyone remember Shadownrun?  How can I predict this? Bad things happen in 3s. We’ll experience some other, new Faction Rally system and gimmick before Bungie gives up on that and attempts to circle back to D1 standards for factions, by which point it may be too late.

A Hairball of a Homebrew

Hi guys! Here’s a terribly long post of that short story I had to do for my Creative Writing class! Please comment any suggestions or edits! It’d be greatly appreciated! It’s supposed to be 2000 words long at the most, but this is 2600. Oops. So I’m sorry if it feels rushed, I needed to keep it as concise as possible.

A Hairball of a Homebrew

Garth slouched in his seat; his party eyeing him with wide eyes and anticipation. His eyes wandered over to the window as he pondered what he should do.

“Come on, Garth! The hitpoints on this giant are slim to none. Do your job, cleric! Make magic!” Freda, the elven ranger of the party, said as she slapped her hands on the table, making the dice rumble.

“Try out that new spell you got from leveling up last time.” Maximus crossed his arms awaiting his friend’s decision.

Garth did just that, “Alright guys, I cast spell of Active Endangerment.”

“And what does that do?” Ted, a friend the party had made at a convention recently, asked. Ted was just your ordinary nerd, lover of games, especially old games and game systems, and overall mysterious guy. This was actually Garth, Freda, and Maximus’s second time playing with Ted as the dungeon master. So far he was a pretty exciting guy, full of life really.

“Any player within a ten foot radius emerges from the active danger zone and transports to a less harmful destination. So basically it’s just going to teleport us away from this beast.”

“Alright, guys. I think you’ll like this spell; I came up with it on a whim, but it’s actually super neat. Do me a favor and roll this d20 for me. Just curious how powerful this spell will be…” Ted handed Garth a twenty-sided die that sparkled against the setting sun’s glare on their table.

Garth kissed the die hopefully and tossed it along the tabletop, allowing it to skip and frolic across and into the middle, landing for a natural 20.

The party roared in excitement as Ted looked to Garth and wiggled his fingers, “Any words you’d like to say while casting it?”

“Sayonara asshole!” Garth shot his hands in the air like a child at the top of a ferris wheel.

Within seconds the tabletop shook and the d20 glowed an earthly green, beams of light shooting into the room before crystallizing Garth, Freda, and Maximus. A sharp light burst from the dice and all three fractured to dust and sparkles.

The next thing the party knew they were flying from the sky and tumbling in a pile of hay. A cow leaned down and stuck up its nose at Maximus before giving him a good lick up the face.

“Back you beast! Back!” He waved his arms frantically, rolling about as his stout dwarf figure had trouble getting to its feet. His eyes squinted and jaw dropped as the environment he was now in looked nothing like Ted’s grouchy mother’s basement.

As the three stood up and looked around they could see a vast array of hills full of green grass, crops and livestock, mountains in the distant with snow dusting their peaks, and a town that awaited them, busy with merchants yelling and children running about with chickens. It was as if they were back in time to a place much simpler than their own modern era.

“Well I’ve got to say, I’ve seen lots o’ things in my nine lives, but this has got to be the best.” A furry orange tabby locked eyes with the three adventurers, and let out a friendly chirrup.

Freda stepped back and nearly fell over a haystack behind her and onto another cow. “Did that cat just talk?” She held her head and shook it frantically.

“Welcome to the next puzzle, friends.” The cat hopped onto a larger stack of hay to be at eye level with them. “I know you might be frightened, but let’s take a minute to gather ourselves, shall we?”

The three quizzically looked at each other and their surroundings. An understanding nod was evoked from them as they all knew absolutely nothing of how they had gotten here or what to do next. As far as they knew this talking tabby was the only clue as to what to do.

“Follow me, I’ll be your guide. Don’t get lost or you might never find a way back.” With that being said the tabby hopped from the hay and walked along a dirt path into the town.

The three followed with nothing more than a questioning glance towards each other and a hunger for adventure. Could this be their game?

Garth walked with the others and spoke his thoughts out loud, “I think-I think we’re playing our campaign?”

“Don’t rustle yourselves up too much with all the questions. I’ll answer them shortly. I’m Lester by the way. I’m the farmer’s cat.” Lester waddled along and finally led the party up a flight of dirt steps to a room with three small beds and a low table. The table held a wooden box, a key, a dirty piece of paper, and a quill with a red tip to it. Lester found himself a nice spot on the back of the table so he could explain what was in front of him. “Before I go on it would be best if we all rested up. You’ve got canteens in your bags and some flatbread. I’m sure that will help restore the hitpoints you lost from the giant.”

Freda gave Lester a concerned look, her brow furrowing as far as it could and her lips pursed in frustration. “Where are we? What’s going on? Who are you? How did we get here? How do you know about the giant? Where’s Ted’s basement?!” Her voice shook with fear and misunderstanding. Questions swarmed her head, but most importantly she wondered if she was going insane; after all, she was talking to a cat.

Maximus gave a glare up to Freda, if she scared the cat away they would be lost. All they had was this cat and without him they would be nowhere. “Let him speak, he may have good information. We’ll get out of this Freda.” He added the ending for a little sake of empathy. He wanted to know what was going on too, but it wouldn’t help any of them if they rushed this.

Garth sat down on one of the cots and rummaged through his bag. “This has all the stuff we’ve gathered throughout our game. I have my staff and my spellbook and everything.” His tone was hopeful.

“Indeed,” Lester answered calmly, licking his paw and letting it glide over the top of his head. His ears pushed back some almost like he was slicking his hair. “I’ve got a mission for you in exchange for your freedom.”

“Our freedom?” Freda panicked.

“Well, if you’d like to get back to your homeland I might know the way…” Lester purred persuasively. “I’ll just need a signature from all of you on this here document and then the puzzle you may persist.”

“What’s in the box?” Maximus glanced towards it suspiciously.

“It could be your reward or your demise.” Lester laid down letting himself clean as the three humanoids discussed amongst themselves.

“This has got to be a joke. Did Ted spike our drink? What if I’m just dreaming?” Freda worried and clutched her elven bow subconsciously.

“I don’t think so,” Maximus would punch Garth, sending him flying over to the nearest wall. Garth would let out a grunt and dust himself off. “What the hell, Max?!”

“We’re our characters. And this is most definitely not a dream. Besides, he would have woken up when I hit him.” Maximus grinned.

“That’s not how this works, Max. You pinch yourself.” Freda laughed watching Garth limp over. “We need to rest. We were all low on health. Let’s just sign the damn contract and get out of here. I like D&D, but not enough to want to live it.” Garth rubbed his cloaked arms.

“So if this is just like the game can’t we roll an intimidation check or persuade Lester to give us the way back?” Freda would whisper to them.

Garth nodded, looking over to Lester, and giving their more intimidating dwarf fighter a push forward. Maximus gruffly walked towards Lester, crossing his arms and grumpily speaking, “I roll for intimidation.” He would say.

Lester looked up from his grooming, his head cocking to the side in question towards the action, but a curve could hardly be seen on his lips. “Um, is there anything you’d like to say to add to it?”

“You’re gonna tell us how to get home or I’ll beat you straight, puss!” The dwarf stomped forward as Garth and Freda backed him up.

Lester paused, standing up and walking to the edge of the table to meet the dwarf’s glare. “Oh no, I’ve been intimidated, whatever shall I do?” Lester rolled his eyes, clicking them shut and then narrowed them at Maximus. “You thick-skulled dwarf, that doesn’t work here!”

Maximus shyed back, embarrassingly turning red from his failed effort.

“One might call that a critical miss. It’s either you get me what I want or I don’t help you.” Lester protested their groans. “Finish Ted’s puzzle and you get home, that easy.”

“So you know Ted?” Garth asked.

“I’m one of his NPC’s.” Lester responded. “I’m here to forward the adventure and if you don’t comply you might as well just go get drunk in the tavern for all I care.” Lester grumpily growled and hopped away towards the door. “Sign the contract. You’ll be rewarded well and sent home. I’ll be back tomorrow morning. Rest up.” And with those final words Lester left the room to the three of them.

The rest of the night blurred together as the three drank their water and feasted on flatbread. They bickered over whether to sign the contract or not but ultimately ended up signing. An adventure was an adventure and if it was the only way out then so be it; they would begrudgingly accept. It wasn’t a very restful night, but it was enough to get them back to a healthy amount of hit points. At the break of dawn, a rooster could be heard back where they had originally spawned into the game.

Freda was the first to make a move as she got up and made sure she was equipped for the day. She stared at their contract as if it was a nuisance. What could possibly go wrong? She thought to herself and awoke her friends for the day.

Soon enough Lester was elegantly making his way back into their small dormitory. He sat back down on the table to be at a more convenient height. His eyes glanced at the contract to which he let out a light purr of contentment at the sight of. “I’m glad you decided to abide by the rules.” Lester sat with his feet together and his back arched upward. “You’ll be pleasantly surprised to hear that the answer to all your problems is a simple spell.”

Garth rose an eyebrow and sat at the table with Freda and Maximus at opposite ends.

“Is this some sort of sick joke?” Garth frowned, not understanding.

“It’s a puzzle I’m sure you can figure out. The rules are simple really. I’ll give you a hint, you must cheat.” Lester purred and curled his lips into a devious smile, “You could even say it has the power to help you in many realms other than this one.”

Garth contemplated how he could possibly cheat his way out of this world? A spell that got them into it could also get them out, but how? He got his spellbook out and flipped through it. There was nothing new other than the standard spells. Garth sighed, sitting there at a loss for what felt like hours until he lifted his head and stared at Lester.

“This is stupid! What kind of puzzle is this, Ted?” Maximus would raise his fist to the sky. “I’m done playing games. Sitting here solving riddles isn’t going to get us home! There has to be some man we talk to or a dungeon in the depths of a cave that holds the spell! Give me something to smash!” He nearly lunged himself at Lester in aggravation.

Garth winced as his friend roared in dismay while Freda was preoccupied with keeping Maximus at bay.

“If it’s Ted’s game we’re playing then we’ve got to think like Ted.” Garth ran his hands through his hair, grasping at it like straws.

Freda patted Maximus down beside her. “What could be a universal cheat that would work in our world?”

Maximus grumbled with his short temper, “After this I’m going back to old school games. Those are easy. You don’t ever see this type of shit happening with Spyro or Mortal Kombat.”

“I mean, the only cheat code I can think of is-” Freda tried to speak but was interrupted.

“The Konami code!” Maximus pounded his fist on the table. “Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A!”

Garth slapped his hands down and grinned. “That’s it Maximus!”

Freda slumped over relieved. “Now let’s figure out how to cast it.”

“You’ll need not only the help of your cleric, Garth, but a tool…” Lester would eye the box and swat it to them. “Figure out how to open it.”

Freda would take no time at all but carelessly swipe up the key on the table and jam it into the box, twisting it. The box rumbled, letting a black thick ink ooze out of the keyhole, the ink consuming her hand and crawling up her arm. She let out a loud shriek and shook her arm about as the box flew around, still connected to her hand.

Garth almost let out a laugh, seeing the sight of this small elven woman with a box attached to her hand being waved around like a bee was near her. Garth snapped back to his new reality and pinned her down. “Get the box open!”

“Get it off! Get if off, hurry!” Freda struggled, still in shock that her arm was slowly becoming one with this black ooze.

“Hold still!” Maximus brought up his large dwarven hammer and crashed it down overtop the box as fast as he could. He almost didn’t have time to react to his action before the box split open and splinters soared through the air. Freda pushed Garth off her and shook her hand once more as the box was no more and the ooze crept back into nothingness. Freda and Garth watched in fear at the disaster before them.

“I hate cursed objects!” Freda yelled and shriveled back into the corner of the small room.

Maximus threw his hammer to the side and pushed through the rubble of wood and found a single jeweled die, the same one that Ted had given Garth to roll. “I’m gonna kick that guy’s ass when we get back.” He tossed the die to Garth.

Freda sighed, staring at the die in Garth’s hands. “We’ll be back…I know we will.”

Garth sighed, “I cast the Konami Code.” He juggled his hands letting the die dance between his palms and then let it go. The die fumbled along the table and rested on a 12.

“Is there anything you’d like to say while casting it?” Lester smirked.

“Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A.” He hoped that was enough, but it all seemed too easy now.

Seconds later Garth felt the bottom of his seat beneath him and the earthly green die sat in his grasp. He looked across the familiar old coffee table to where Ted was. He frowned and looked to his sides and only saw Maximus, “Where is Freda?”

“I’m afraid she won’t be joining us in this puzzle. After all, you only rolled a 12.” A light purr laced in his speech.

My first almost D&D but Not DND session!

Soo way back when, my dad gave me a book - a AD&D DMG from a market stall. And it was soo intriguing - but completely almost incomprehensible. A DMG made some sense - but all the numbers & mechanics were weird alien concepts that followed no simple path (some went up, others went down - and there was all these weird changes to add or subtract everywhere! AD&D was a chaotic book to say the least). Later, I’d discover my school had an original D&D players guide (ok, it was actually just the D&D book. There was only meant to be one. It was the very first book every made & meant to be a all in one concept). Suddenly things made sense - and we even had 2 modules. D&D could be had! Sooo I went to a friends house & he loved the concept. He also loved elves - no really, you have to understand he worshipped elves soooo much his ears gear almost 2 inches longer & pointy when he was leaving highschool. it was OMG scary. No surgery, no fakes - just straight up brain power misspent to reshape his body after his favorite image. He was already kinda tall & thin. And a pale skinned gaming geek naturally... So all he needed was to grow out his hair & grow pointy ears. Sooo he did... Kinda freaky... Kinda explains a lot about being human - and yeah, ‘Worshipped tolkieen type elves’ is the best description I have. But otherwise a nerdy nice guy. Annyyywayyy, I went over (pre-elf state) & asked about D&D. And he produced a rulebook - for Lord of the Rings. I didn’t care, we’re doing this. So we rolled up some characters. He had a Warrior or a Paladin I think. And I had a rogue - were-tiger. The LOTR RPG was a point buy system similar to white wolf games. You buy advantages and flaws to gain talents/powers/magic/skills & flaws. I found some for balance, jumping & damage resistance. And something like claws/teeth. Add in some rogue skills & movement skills & I was set! Now my friend was the by the book type - which I thankfully cured immediately by suggesting we do a ‘By the seat of our story pants’ session - we just started. Soon we were running atop rooves of the city doing a chase scene - totally awesome for a thief. And the paladin was running below trying hard to keep up. Rogues are totally awesome! Ooohhh yes! Anyway - we dived into this brave new RPG world. We had lots of fun. At some point we decided our setting was Faerun’s Waterdeep - we’d read a D&D novel about it & that was all the inspiration we needed. We also grew our party to like 3-4 people, maybe 5? And we were working for the political movers & shakers of Waterdeep. But we started with 2 characters chasing a thief across rooftops... Using a completely alien system that had almost no magic what so ever - improvising everything from rules to dice. We knew D&D needed d20s, so we rolled d20s plus our skills. That worked well. Damage was a d6 or 2d6 for something big. Life was soo simple - then we got loot! And we had a DMG for that! OMG, but my mate surpassed me here. Suddenly we had a gnomish inventor with a self moving carriage. It was steam powered.. ish... Magic steam I think... And we ended up with a self shooting crossbow on top at somepoint. That was actually scary - it shoot anyone & everyone, sometimes even us! I remember leaping from the rooftop of our carriage as it steamed it’s way over snowtopped fields, leaping for our opponent’s horses & chariots. I had to make so many agility checks (or was it balance?) - and aced them all. I was a were-cat & I knew where to specialise. Movement skills! Later our paladin died - and we wanted him back. So we planehopped over to the elvish heavens to steal his soul back (we’re adventurers after all! We know we’re here to loot the place!) So the GM distracted us with various scenes of heaven. I was really tempted to try and open this ornate obsidian door that seemed to glow with red runes everywhere. It was chained up with heavy mithril chains & magic locks - and omg it was so tempting... But the party managed to guess it might actually be a portal to the Nine Hells & dragged their curious kitty away... Then the GM tried to distract another player with a beautiful glade. However it was the Kitty who ended up wandering inside & being all curious. There was an elf there & we talked a lot. We kinda got into a debate about religion - and realized we had the same goals, but completely opposite perspectives on how to achieve it. We laughed a lot as everyone else realized the GM & I we’re arguing the same points from the opposite side of the lens. After that, I decided I liked this god - and well our campaign was slowly getting a VS Evil Hell Demons vibe. So believing in a particular god was appropriate. We did a lot of the ‘I pay homage to each different deity when I do something related to their portfolio’ type of prayers - partly as jokes & partly just to be characterful. So having one God was kinda cool. Anyway this elf asked if I wanted to start on the path as a cleric. Sure I said - now the other players had noticed when the GM said this god was forgotten on our world (it was a grey hawk god I think? Some other setting besides Faerun either way). And we’re pretty powerful folk now. We dance with the city’s politicians, royalty & gentry. We go to fancy parties & hang out with the royal poisoner, do work for the head Assassin sometimes & we even helped out the temple of helm so much we have a writ from the High Priest of Helm - allowing us shelter, food, aid & even a few coins from any temple of Helm. Amazing right? Well imagine my surprise when someone introduced me as a cleric of ‘Long Forgotten God’ when we finally retrieved our Paladin’s soul, avoided accidentally opening the door to hell a second time (It glowed and everything! I mean spoilt sports!) and we went to a royal ball to our success & our Paladin’s resurrection! Cleric’s were kinda a rare thing - we had lots of priests. But they could do no more than light healing (cure wounds & disease, produce food & water kinda magic. Very limited- because the system was also kinda limited in regards to magic) but clerics could open portals, summon angels & do real magics. Of course, I had 1 spell (*cough I had just enough exp to buy 1 ability cough*) - and slightly elfin features. There was the promise of an elven lifespan if I was a dutiful cleric though. So almost immortality was a pretty cool boon for a were-kitty... Now you’re wondering what the catch was - because there was one. I was just a cleric of this god. The only cleric actually. I’d been charged with spreading the word & given a cool title. Cleric! And then someone finally completed the sentence - we walked into the Royal Ball - and I was announced as the High Priest of ‘Long forgotten Elven God’... High priest... Yeah... The GM saddled me with ‘promote my faith’ & ‘High Priest’ in a political campaign... Now the GM was cool - the royal folk gave me a plot of land to cultivate into a druid glave with an underground cave/temple space. Which was cool. I even got a gold grant to help transplant soil & plants to the space. And it was near the Temple of Helm. The High Grand Temple of Helm... Where we have that lovely writ of aid... Soooo I maybe started preaching on the steps to the Temple of Helm... About my new god. And that made the High Priest of Helm just a little mad... Then we summoned a angel. The GM read about this spell where you could trade goods & gold to gain the service of angels. And they were anime angels that could build cities in days instead of months. Or nuke cities filled with undead and such... Sooo we traded some stuff from our stash & roll a d100 like all good gamers asking for a miracle. Got a 99 or was it a 100? That called forth some angels, saved our city in a big climatic battle & then sponsored a massive party - and our Angels turned DJs & Dancers and we jammed all night long! I mean we literally had them in our service for 2 days, so we just jammed & partied, then cleaned up the city some the next morning.  Amazingly, given how rare Clerics with real magic were, this had an impact on the populace... Preventing the Devil Apocalypse, Summoning Angels & Jamming with the rarest of planar beings after kicking all the BBEG’s collective butts! Yes we made an impression... Now prior to this I had established a kitty theme for loving high places. I always liked to sleep atop these massive columns that adorned the Temple of Helm. 20 to 30m tall columns that were under an even taller roof - so I could nap up there or watch the city flow below me like ants... it was awesome! Which meant I was now awoken by crowds of faithful, flocking to the temple of helm, to wake my charrie up with shouts for wisdom & sermons. I’d tell stories on the front steps (just so I was taller than the crowds. They had a bunch of statues to climb over and leap atop too!) & it was sooo fun! Anddd the GM was secretly making rolls to see if the High Priest would finally snap & do something evil against me... Even turn to the devils just to ‘silence’ this menace to their god... I totally stole so many of their followers... I mean the GM saddled me with being a High Priest... So I lied, tricked & teased my way into becoming the most popular cleric in the city. You let the rogue make a faith after all. This is totally before we ever read Terry Pratchett btw - So you can’t think I’d ever read Going Postal or Making Money. All original madness I’m afraid :) - And yeah... I nearly broke apart the campaign world in my childish teasing of Helm’s chosen... Heeh... Still almost no remorse there :P Sooo that was my role in our first campaign. I mean, we fought wars, assassinated assassins trying to kill us in our supposed sleep, raced steam chariots & besieged armies! We stole artifacts, invented flawed intelligent items like repeating crossbows (we had a sciencey type player who got on well with the mad gnomish inventors guild) and ended up nearly killing the party 3 times with our own repeating crossbow (twice we luckily ran out of arrows, the third time we had to throw a boulder onto our carriage - and boy was that expensive to fix...)  And don’t get me started on the politics... It literally flew over my teenage head... I was so clueless then. I even was tricked into being a high priest... Seriously, our party laughed me out of the room when I realized my easy-street lazy rogue was now saddled with actually working & promoting something, raising funds & even having to preach to get followers... And then people worked out I was actually a really good talker & on state debate teams... I just really enjoyed being lazy, stealing & leaping my way through problems... Anyway... long rambling stories... Probably not that interesting - but OMG my fondest memory is just that beginning - we rolled up characters & started playing before we read the mechanics. We invented everything we needed in 5 minutes & learnt some real rules later - which we half ignored as we tried to recreate the spirit of DND with d20s & Lord of the Rings Character Sheets. Still have that sheet too! If you ever want to start a game - just take whatever books you have and go for it. Don’t stress about the rules, make stuff up. Borrow the Advantage/Disadvantage system from fifth Ed - and just go with the flow. If it feels like success, tell the player. If it doesn’t, describe the player's misfortune...

12 Ways to Promote Your “Boring” Brand or Product on Social Media

Are you feeling a little blue because your product is perceived as unexciting?

Don’t cry.

Just because it’s not a red Ferrari, the latest home brew, or a speeding, Blue Origin spacecraft doesn’t mean your brand voice has to be something people ignore.

Not. Even. Close.

For whatever you have to sell, promote, or market on social media… there’s always a backstory. Or think of your contributions to the local community. How about your company culture?

Whatever it is, there’s people running around the company, excited to create, sell, and talk about your products.

That’s often a great place to find the ways-and-means to excite your social media fans and followers.

The 12 ways to go from “ho-hum” to “hell yeah” on social

“The most boring thing in the world? Silence.” (Ah, okay, thanks for that Justin Timberlake)

So don’t be. Silent, that is.

Instead… speak, show, tell, entertain, mesmerize, and share.

For how your products help improve people’s lives. Social media is built for this, for your ‘boring’ toilets, paper clips, shower caps, white-out, insurance policies, and light bulbs.

There’s a voice and vibe for everything.

Let’s look at 12 ways.

1. Educate your audience

Or at least make them chuckle.

3M Canada did.

They’re the mastermind behind all things sticky. But what’s so exciting about Post-Its, Scotch tape, and Nexcare bandages?

Not much.

But when you’re recognized as an industry giant, with a wealth of information, you can set the rules.

3M Canada uploads entertaining and informative videos to its YouTube channel. Constantly.

Here’s one. You’ll snicker.

Q: What can you do to educate, inspire, or tell the backstory for your products or brand?

You’ve got it there, somewhere. Find the right people, with the right energy, tales, and perspectives to help your social followers give a darn.

2. Use what’s already popular

And ‘who’, too.

UNICEF did.

They paired up with super-futbol-star David Beckham for the ‘Violence Marks Forever’ YouTube, video campaign.

Beckham’s cameo was a hit— generating 190,000 responses on UNICEF’s social platform.

Quite a contrast from UNICEF’s previous ads for selling dirty water and its Likes don’t save lives campaign. Mix it up. Variety excites.

Don’t have deep pockets for a high-octane celebrity?

Fine. Hire a local influencer, with a small and dedicated audience.

You see this all the time where you live. On TV, buses, billboards, and buildings. Because it works. Same for social media.

3. Tell a story

Because everyone wants to fall in love, be the hero, villain, or curious bystander.

PayPal did.

By going from faceless to friendly.

They used photos of real people to combat their image as the faceless financial provider.

It worked. A 327 percent increase in engagement.

Popularized by Humans of New York, PayPal combined the visual with a thought-provoking story. For PayPal’s version, people share how they use the service to improve their personal life.

You getting inspired so far? Nice. Let’s keep going…

4. Be human

Sometimes, by just saying ‘gracias’.

Wikipedia does.

As you probably know, Wikipedia depends on charitable donations.

They regularly thank their Twitter followers for donations.

Q: Do ever you thank your spouse for some needed words of encouragement? A co-worker for getting back to you on time? The shopping clerk for cashing you out?

Of course you do. Why not show up the same way online?

Social media + asking for nothing = a human touch for your business.

I know, sometimes it’s just so simple. Yet we forget and neglect.

5. Be memorable

Because you really do have a personality. No matter what the others say.

Merriam-Webster does.

They’ve brought life to their brand on social media by sounding edgy and sassy.

Sassy gets attention. Here’s 13 sassy brands (wonder how I can break into this list?). Quick wits and humor will get you far on social media, by making a lasting impression. Squabbles, can work, too.

How will you unleash your inner sassy?

6. Promote your company culture

Because your product is just a slice of the whole.

Hootsuite does.

Funeral caskets. Now that’s something difficult to get excited about.

So then, do some ninja, hocus-pocus, end-around to drive attention elsewhere.

Show and tell something great about your work environment, your employees, or a proud and completed project. How about showing a slice of life at the office?

You could create a culture hashtag, like this one #HootsuiteLife.

View this post on Instagram

Happy Halloween from all of us at @Hootsuite! ???? #hootsuitelife #HootHalloween ????: @brooke.milne

A post shared by Hootsuite (@hootsuite) on Oct 31, 2016 at 1:13pm PDT

7. Be useful

By sharing content that’s relevant to readers.

1-800-GOT-JUNK does.

The junk removal franchise publishes blog posts about how life in the home is better with less clutter.

Need help fitting your home office into your bedroom space? Check out our newest blog post for tips: https://t.co/SADGGhgs2W pic.twitter.com/StWNh04JoN

— 1-800-GOT-JUNK? (@1800GOTJUNK) November 28, 2016

Readers can learn how about home decor, maintenance, and renovation how-to’s. All relevant topics for getting rid of old things, to make room for new things.

Consider this an opportunity to position your business as an industry expert.

Blog posts aren’t social media posts, but so what. It’s all about doing the heavy lifting, so your readers don’t have to.

Dig deep, to help your audience understand the real value of your goods.

8. Create a series

And make it epic.

Blendtec does.

They made a boring blender a cultural icon with the Will it Blend? video series.

They’ve got videos of blenders munching on toilet flushers, yard rakes, video cameras, magnets, and Justin Bieber. All hosted by a zany, mad scientist.

Watch this iPhone get demolished!

Surely, if they can create a prince from such a frog, you can, too.

Schedule a meeting, show this video series, brainstorm your way to brand stardom.

The more boring your product, the better it will look when you dress it up just right.

9. Be a show off

So people can see your goods in action.

General Electric did.

GE makes jet engines for 747s (yeah, that GE, the appliance manufacturer).

They showed off how their engine powers the world’s fastest ferry on their portal. Sixty-seven MPH, carrying 1,000 passengers, and 150 cars.

The made a YouTube video, too.

That’s some serious vrooooom.

And worthy of some social attention.

10. Run a poll

Charmin did.

Here’s a couple of them.

Lunch didn't set well and your safety bathroom is occupied. Do you?#TweetFromTheSeat

— Charmin (@Charmin) March 2, 2018

Who judges your gym based on locker room TP? #ExercisePoops #AskingForAFriend

— Charmin (@Charmin) April 5, 2017

Anything more boring than toilet paper?

But add some creative scenarios, questions, and hashtags and you’ve got yourself a winner.

In other words…

Dream big while on the seat (#TweetFromTheSeat)

Charmin sure does.

11. Don’t take yourself so seriously

The Gainesville Police Department doesn’t.

Police departments aren’t known as the most captivating of personalities.

Far from it. They’re, serious, official, to-the-point. Makes sense when there to protect and serve.

But whoever runs Gainesville Police Department’s social media missed that point. They use humor and jokes to penetrate people’s hearts.

12. Convert tragic to magic

To go from serious to meritorious.

The Worldwide Breast Cancer Organization (WBCO) did.

Fundraising is hard. You’re not actually selling anything. Plus, some topics are just difficult for people to think about.

Yet some succeed anyway. Beautifully.

The WBCO did with their #KnowYourLemons campaign on Twitter and Facebook, spreading awareness for breast cancer symptoms and fundraising.

Bet that hashtag and visual caught your attention.

Along with this one, too, by staying active on social media.

It sure did for the WBCO’s audience.

They exceeded their fundraising target by 317 percent. While saving lives and spreading awareness.

And… encouraging women to check their “lemons.” Regularly

Don’t be a bore-snore with your products.

As you can see, there’s always room for sassy, witty, truth, depth, lightness, and other back stories for your boring product.

Make the most of your brand story using Hootsuite. Schedule posts, engage with followers, and measure the success of your efforts. Try it free today.

Sign Up

The post 12 Ways to Promote Your “Boring” Brand or Product on Social Media appeared first on Hootsuite Social Media Management.

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How I Shot the Falcon 9 Rocket Launch from an Airline Cockpit

“Oakland Center are you talking to that traffic at our 9 o’clock position? We got a yellow light out there and it’s coming up pretty fast.” This unusual radio transmission to Air Traffic Control from a Southwest Airlines jet caught our attention on an otherwise routine flight between New Orleans and San Francisco.

It was the edge of night and we were cruising at 38,000 feet through a sleepy section of airspace above Nevada. The faintest glow of red dusk light remained along the western horizon but the rest of the sky had fallen into darkness.

“Better get ready to take a video,” I joked to my first officer. “We’re in the middle of UFO country, right near Area 51, maybe we’ll get…”

“Hey, I think I see it,” he cut me off while pointing out our left front window.

A small, but intense, yellow light was streaking up through the desert sky.

“Holy crap!”

The streak of yellow was a good 50 miles away and it appeared to be moving parallel to us but in the opposite direction.

I instinctively reached down to grab my camera. I always keep a Canon DSLR and an assortment of lenses close at hand for moments just like this one. Every airliner has a little cubby hole next to the pilot seats where we formerly stored our chart kits filled maps and company manuals. These days we store all those documents on an iPad and the vacant chart cubby is the perfect place to stash a camera bag.

The moment I pulled out my camera the mysterious, fast-moving light disappeared.

Air Traffic control came over the radio responding to the curious Southwest pilots, “Yeah, Southwest they said there’s a Falcon 9 launching out of Vandenberg. That’s probably what you’re seeing.”

And then the yellow streak reappeared, but now it was significantly higher. It was at or above our altitude and accelerating rapidly.

I had no idea how long the rocket would stay visible and my camera was still set up for the street photography I had been doing earlier in New Orleans. The flight deck was too dark to read camera dials without wasting valuable seconds turning on the interior lights. I made a snap decision to just go for a shot, better to try and fail than miss the opportunity while messing with camera settings.

I knew I had left my camera in aperture priority mode, so I cranked hard on the thumb dial to open my lens to f/2.8 while lifting my camera to my eye. Then I set the ISO to 3200 and exposure compensation to -3 EV while composing a photo through the viewfinder. The autofocus struggled to latch onto the tiny light from the distant rocket but it eventually caught and I fired off a few photos.

Those first photos were garbage, all motion blur and camera shake. Auto modes weren’t going to work. If I was going to get a usable photo I would have to slow down and set the camera up properly. I turned on my reading light, set the camera to manual mode and dialed in my tried and tested settings for night aerial photos: ISO 3200, f2.8, and 1/20 second shutter speed.

“Oh my god dude! I think the rocket might’ve just exploded or something,” my first officer said.

I glanced out the side window to see the rocket’s exhaust illuminated like a planet-destroying comet approaching the upper reaches of the atmosphere. The rocket had come out from behind the earth’s shadow and the exhaust trail was glowing in the same way the moon glows in the night sky.

I had one last step to get my camera ready: switch to manual focus and focus to infinity.

When the Falcon 9 first broke out of Earth’s shadow the exhaust cloud scattered the sunlight forming a rainbow. Camera settings: ISO 3200, f/2.8, shutter 1/20 second.

With the camera set up, I took some shots, chimped, adjusted, and took more shots. I wanted to capture both the dusk light on the horizon and the rocket exhaust cloud. The settings pushed both my camera and my ability to shoot hand-held. My current camera is a Canon 5D Mark III. I trust the sensor up to ISO 3200, but if I go above that things start to fall apart. At first I could use ISO 3200 and 1/20th second, but as the rocket got further away I had to dial the ISO up to 6400 and dial the shutter speed back to ⅛ second. Those aren’t ideal settings for taking photos while flying at Mach 0.78.

In this photo you can see one of the rocket boosters relighting to slow its descent to the surface. SpaceX famously lands and reuses their solid rocket boosters, unlike most rockets where the boosters fall back to the surface. Camera Settings: ISO 4000, f2.8, shutter ⅛ second

With a few good photos in the bag I paused to make an announcement to the passengers: “Folks, if you take a look out the left side of the aircraft…”

The rocket event started at 7:25 and was over by 7:35. I’ve been flying airliners for 19 years, watching that rocket escape Earth’s atmosphere was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever witnessed while airborne. Part of me wonders if SpaceX scheduled the launch purposely for the lighting effects presented at dusk and free publicity from putting on the largest fireworks show possible, illuminating the sky over several large cities.

As the rocket accelerated it appeared to arch over the planet to the south. In this photo you can see the lights of Fresno in California’s Central Valley. Shortly after taking this photo the rocket disappeared from sight. Camera settings: ISO 6400, f2.8, shutter ⅛ second.

If they had launched in full daylight the rocket’s trail wouldn’t have been as visible. Or, if they’d waited till later at night, the rocket wouldn’t have climbed into the sun above the dark planet, the entire launch would’ve been in darkness. This launch was timed perfectly in the early evening. The rocket’s exhaust was perfectly highlighted creating maximum visual effect against the dark sky. I’m guessing millions of people across the Western United States saw it.

About the author: David Raboin is an airline captain with 24 years flying experience. He has taken a DSLR along on every trip he’s flown since 2004. All photos taken while flying are done in accordance with federal aviation regulations. Along with aerial images David enjoys street photography, landscape photography, and documenting his growing family. David has licensed his work for publication thousands of times through iStockphoto and Getty Images. His photos have been published in magazines, on the Internet, and used in ad campaigns. You can see more of his work on Instagram.

source https://petapixel.com/2018/10/12/how-i-shot-the-falcon-9-rocket-launch-from-an-airline-cockpit/

How I Shot the Falcon 9 Rocket Launch from an Airline Cockpit

“Oakland Center are you talking to that traffic at our 9 o’clock position? We got a yellow light out there and it’s coming up pretty fast.” This unusual radio transmission to Air Traffic Control from a Southwest Airlines jet caught our attention on an otherwise routine flight between New Orleans and San Francisco.

It was the edge of night and we were cruising at 38,000 feet through a sleepy section of airspace above Nevada. The faintest glow of red dusk light remained along the western horizon but the rest of the sky had fallen into darkness.

“Better get ready to take a video,” I joked to my first officer. “We’re in the middle of UFO country, right near Area 51, maybe we’ll get…”

“Hey, I think I see it,” he cut me off while pointing out our left front window.

A small, but intense, yellow light was streaking up through the desert sky.

“Holy crap!”

The streak of yellow was a good 50 miles away and it appeared to be moving parallel to us but in the opposite direction.

I instinctively reached down to grab my camera. I always keep a Canon DSLR and an assortment of lenses close at hand for moments just like this one. Every airliner has a little cubby hole next to the pilot seats where we formerly stored our chart kits filled maps and company manuals. These days we store all those documents on an iPad and the vacant chart cubby is the perfect place to stash a camera bag.

The moment I pulled out my camera the mysterious, fast-moving light disappeared.

Air Traffic control came over the radio responding to the curious Southwest pilots, “Yeah, Southwest they said there’s a Falcon 9 launching out of Vandenberg. That’s probably what you’re seeing.”

And then the yellow streak reappeared, but now it was significantly higher. It was at or above our altitude and accelerating rapidly.

I had no idea how long the rocket would stay visible and my camera was still set up for the street photography I had been doing earlier in New Orleans. The flight deck was too dark to read camera dials without wasting valuable seconds turning on the interior lights. I made a snap decision to just go for a shot, better to try and fail than miss the opportunity while messing with camera settings.

I knew I had left my camera in aperture priority mode, so I cranked hard on the thumb dial to open my lens to f/2.8 while lifting my camera to my eye. Then I set the ISO to 3200 and exposure compensation to -3 EV while composing a photo through the viewfinder. The autofocus struggled to latch onto the tiny light from the distant rocket but it eventually caught and I fired off a few photos.

Those first photos were garbage, all motion blur and camera shake. Auto modes weren’t going to work. If I was going to get a usable photo I would have to slow down and set the camera up properly. I turned on my reading light, set the camera to manual mode and dialed in my tried and tested settings for night aerial photos: ISO 3200, f2.8, and 1/20 second shutter speed.

“Oh my god dude! I think the rocket might’ve just exploded or something,” my first officer said.

I glanced out the side window to see the rocket’s exhaust illuminated like a planet-destroying comet approaching the upper reaches of the atmosphere. The rocket had come out from behind the earth’s shadow and the exhaust trail was glowing in the same way the moon glows in the night sky.

I had one last step to get my camera ready: switch to manual focus and focus to infinity.

When the Falcon 9 first broke out of Earth’s shadow the exhaust cloud scattered the sunlight forming a rainbow. Camera settings: ISO 3200, f/2.8, shutter 1/20 second.

With the camera set up, I took some shots, chimped, adjusted, and took more shots. I wanted to capture both the dusk light on the horizon and the rocket exhaust cloud. The settings pushed both my camera and my ability to shoot hand-held. My current camera is a Canon 5D Mark III. I trust the sensor up to ISO 3200, but if I go above that things start to fall apart. At first I could use ISO 3200 and 1/20th second, but as the rocket got further away I had to dial the ISO up to 6400 and dial the shutter speed back to ⅛ second. Those aren’t ideal settings for taking photos while flying at Mach 0.78.

In this photo you can see one of the rocket boosters relighting to slow its descent to the surface. SpaceX famously lands and reuses their solid rocket boosters, unlike most rockets where the boosters fall back to the surface. Camera Settings: ISO 4000, f2.8, shutter ⅛ second

With a few good photos in the bag I paused to make an announcement to the passengers: “Folks, if you take a look out the left side of the aircraft…”

The rocket event started at 7:25 and was over by 7:35. I’ve been flying airliners for 19 years, watching that rocket escape Earth’s atmosphere was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever witnessed while airborne. Part of me wonders if SpaceX scheduled the launch purposely for the lighting effects presented at dusk and free publicity from putting on the largest fireworks show possible, illuminating the sky over several large cities.

As the rocket accelerated it appeared to arch over the planet to the south. In this photo you can see the lights of Fresno in California’s Central Valley. Shortly after taking this photo the rocket disappeared from sight. Camera settings: ISO 6400, f2.8, shutter ⅛ second.

If they had launched in full daylight the rocket’s trail wouldn’t have been as visible. Or, if they’d waited till later at night, the rocket wouldn’t have climbed into the sun above the dark planet, the entire launch would’ve been in darkness. This launch was timed perfectly in the early evening. The rocket’s exhaust was perfectly highlighted creating maximum visual effect against the dark sky. I’m guessing millions of people across the Western United States saw it.

About the author: David Raboin is an airline captain with 24 years flying experience. He has taken a DSLR along on every trip he’s flown since 2004. All photos taken while flying are done in accordance with federal aviation regulations. Along with aerial images David enjoys street photography, landscape photography, and documenting his growing family. David has licensed his work for publication thousands of times through iStockphoto and Getty Images. His photos have been published in magazines, on the Internet, and used in ad campaigns. You can see more of his work on Instagram.

from Photography News https://petapixel.com/2018/10/12/how-i-shot-the-falcon-9-rocket-launch-from-an-airline-cockpit/